Ayana Young  Welcome to For The Wild Podcast. I'm Ayana Young. You're listening to Deeply Rooted: Grounding Practices to Weather the Winds of Uncertainty, a series devoted to inviting stillness, balance and abundance into our lives during these troubled times. We invite you to slow down, breathe, and connect deeply with your inner self with community and with Earth. 

We've asked friends who are wise stewards of Earth, spirit, community, and bodily wisdom to share grounding practices and coping tools to empower you and to nourish your inner sanctuary. Every Monday morning, you will experience guided meditations, poetry and prose readings, questions for deep inquiry, storytime, music performances, and more. 

Today you'll be hearing something extraordinary from my dear friend, brontë velez.  

brontë’s work and rest is guided by the call that “black wellness is the antithesis to state violence” (Mark Anthony Johnson). as a black-latinx transdisciplinary artist, designer, trickster, and wakeworker, their eco-social art praxis lives at the intersections of black feminist placemaking & prophetic communiy traditions, environmental justice, and death doulaship.  they are currently moved and paused by the questions, “how can we allow as much room for god to flow through and between us as possible? what affirms the god of and between us? what’s in the way? what ways can black feminist placemaking rooted in commemorative justice promote the memory of god, which is to say, love and freedom between us?” they relate to god as the moments of divine spacetime that remind us we are not separate, the moments that re-belong us to the earth.   they embody this commitment of attending to black health/imagination, commemorative justice and hospicing systems of oppression through serving as creative director for Lead to Life design collective, educator for ancestral arts skills and nature-connection school Weaving Earth, and quotidian black queer lifemaking ever-committed to humor & liberation, ever-marked by grief at the distance made between us and all of life.

brontë velez  Hey, hey, hey, it's brontë. I'm thinking of you wherever you are. I just lit a little candle, lit a little candle. I hope this can feel resourcing and fun and thrilling and very black. And I hope that supports you in this season of mystery, that we might go into some black, prophetic, incantatory traditions. Yeah, that bring us into loving the unseen and the shadows. A.K.A. Ima a rap with you, and I pray that this chanting, this incantation is something that can help you support you to dance into the wild of your own breath in your lungs as a practice in grounding into your voice in this time and as a prayer that I'm extending to you as an offering. Rapping for me is also how I'm moving my rage and grief. 

And I encourage you if you can, listen to this outside. I also encourage you to do that if you have that option. I've been thinking about what the black Mary Oliver would do these days. Or what if I was black Mary Oliver? This is my exploration of black Mary Oliverhood. And there's a host of other black nature poets I could reference: Jim Jordan, Alice Walker, Lucille Clifton, Janice Harrington–all in their own right themselves not black Mary Olivers. 

But this is my attempt at Black Mary Olivering and letting the soft animal of my body loves what it loves. So if dancing is a practice for you, if tracking is a practice for you, if witnessing the birds, or twerking or, yeah, moving that ass, drinking water... I just pray that these sounds can encourage you and support you and that you can dance to them. 

First, I'm going to extend opening the incantation and closing the incantation with mantras that we host through the Lead to Life practice. So you can start off grounding yourself through this prayer and then we'll move into the music and then we'll close with that closing mantra.

Thank you, Great Spirit, for this soil, the mountains, the trees, the water, the fire, the air. We honor these elements as the ingredients of our alchemy. May we be in right relationship to these gifts. May we celebrate your abundance. Never take more than we need and give ourselves back to you as a gift. We honor both the ancestors and original peoples of this land where I am, the Coastal Miwok people. And we ask for your permissions and the lands before all else to carry out our work in peace, for peace. May humility step first, so as to let grace walk us down the path. May we decompose violence in ourselves before we ask it of the world. May we learn from the mushrooms what it means to carry death into new life. May we remember freedom is a practice not a destination, one that we must practice every day. May we always be imaginative in the face of violence. May we be willing to reimagine what it means to be secure. May we liberate the sacred trapped inside of all weapons, remembering that the gun has a source. We may, too, surrender to source. May we be diligent and discerning in our work unending until our lands, communities, and minds are liberated from the talons of greed, hatred, and delusion. And still may we liberate our sense of urgency, of productivity, of right and wrong, and call in the spirit that knows this will take time, that knows we cannot solve a problem with the same mind that made it, that knows beauty is not an arrival but the way. Listening to our dreams we remember another way is always possible. Asé.

[Music with beats]

something bout rhyming that feels like an agreement
water, flowing,
mantras, chanting, combat breathing

took my lungs back so i couldn’t get choked by they scheming
as i’m watching them watch me, i trust they never see it,
vision ain’t wide enough to see what we been here dreaming

plottin
since the day you threw paper towels at the ricans

rageful, grieving, blood brimmed with vengeance
but i heard
stay low
maroons move slow and seditious

they can kill your body, but they cain’t take your spirit​ (*4)

today, i lay to rest the spirit of greed
i extend my condolences to white supremacy
i be damned if i let this shit be the death of me

and if they tried to make a death of me
pray my ego resurrects into the web of we
becomes one with the eternal energy
i release my attachments to the entropy

dance through the in-between
announce the unforeseen
sleep, listen to my dreams
pray, tend, breathe in the trees
trust if the spider weaves
can still protect the seeds

separation’s a distraction
isolation, an abstraction

tryna breathe through the contractions
tryna practice and imagine
that rest could look like action
that love could look like fastin
that the work could just be laughing

i could give gifts and not cash in
i could feel whole and not lackin
there’s liberation in the crackin
there’s a baptism in the ashes
i surrender to your compassion
i trust your gifts are everlastin

how you gave us gravity
as the greatest form of mercy
i remember the ground
when the numbness is surrounding me

but these days i’m so heavy with weary
chest eclipsed by crowding my love with theory

like how i'm sposed to open my heart
when the pulse is blocked by dams and prison
how i'm sposed to give what i got
when they hoarding resources, not listenin
how i'm sposed to keep my faith
when they could let it all fall ain't quittin
how i'm sposed to be in my body
when oppression feels like the only tradition

i'm nauseous, it's sickening
devotion, commitment
tryna trust abundance always turns into fulfillment

when i'm achin, when i'm weepin
i forget what to believe in

they obscured the precedence and
evidence for how we dreamin
not errrthang's amnesiac
but there's memory alive in me

ancient body
fugitive conjuring
witches wandering
salmon, teachers
keystone, healers
headed home to freedom

humility’s different from shrinkin
i’m embodying the teachings
the grief moves when i’m breathin
when i’m trustin that my bleedin
is a ceremony inside me
cuz the earth feels what i’m needing

you trust me when i practice reciprocity
when my power is rooted in integrity
i’m showing up, coming out
where love is indigenous

i’m a militant ecologist
i’m an alchemist
i’m rigorous
abolitionist
from a long line of black feminists

bu'here
black ain’t a what, but a where and when
we the universe, we physics, we disciples of listening
we’re infinite
enlist me
to further your work,
in service
i know i’m here for a higher purpose

no more burdens
higher purpose
hella earnest
higher purpose

not nervous
higher purpose
i’m determined
higher purpose

i’m worth it
i deserve it
i exert it
higher purpose
i’m alerted
this a sermon
we unlearning
higher purpose

even the burning
higher purpose
even the burning
even the burning
even the yearning
higher purpose

great turning
higher purpose
great turning
higher purpose
great turning
higher purpose

more discerning
higher purpose
we returning
higher purpose
we earned it
higher purpose

when it’s hurting
higher purpose
it’s emerging
higher purpose
feel uncertain
higher purpose

it’s emerging
higher purpose
it’s emerging
it’s emerging
it’s emerging
higher purpose

it’s emerging
higher purpose

it ain’t the ending
i ain’t pretending
more than transcendin
we unrelenting
these new beginnings
there’ll be more living
i am willing
i am committin
i’m forgiving

we not finished
fuck they business
fuck they system
fuck they bickerin
fuck they ignance

reclaim attention
i work for spirit
i rest for spirit
the earth has limits
i feel their sickness
i am a witness
this was written
this was written
this was written
(repeat x2)

[Music fades]

brontë velez  Leaving this place, may we tend to and nourish our bodies, minds, and spirits knowing that our own healing is bound up and that of our worlds. Knowing it would be selfish to not show up tomorrow in optimal wellness when we arrived to serve again. We take responsibility for that which enters and leaves our bodies and spirits. We choose to let go of that which no longer serves us and we choose to invite in that which sustains joy. If black wellness is the most radical act against state violence may we be so well–a reservoir of joy. May we resource ourselves so as to overflow, filling all places where joy has been stolen with laughter, health, and connection. 

We dedicate this work to our ancestors, our teachers, the long line of gentle stewards of the land and the warriors of love for your guidance, your prayers, and your cosmic companionship in the struggle for justice. And we offer the fruits of our work here today to all those in the city, in this country, in this world who suffer at the hands of violence. Both the perpetrators and the victims may all wake up from the myth of separation and may all come to intimately know the spirit of love that binds us in relationship with this wild web of creation. May we give love. May we receive love. May we be love as we lovingly plant the seeds for trees whose shade we may never feel, whose fruit we may never eat. May we do all of this for the sake of freedom. Asé.

I pray that you are covered and protected. I pray that your mind is covered and protected, that your body and your heart and your spirit are covered and protected during this season. I pray that a peace that surpasses all understanding washes over you. I pray you're supported and loved and held and in the company of people who bless you. I pray that this time provides unimaginable creativity, clarity, and comfort. I'm sending y'all lots of love. I'm thinking of you. I pray you're getting rest and I'm praying you're getting the support that you need.

Ayana Young  Thanks for listening to the first episode of Deeply Rooted: Grounding Practices to Weather the Winds of Uncertainty. I'm Ayana Young. I hope brontë's prayer ignites your creativity and fills up your inner well with a revolutionary love of peace and joy. You can follow brontë's work by visiting leadtolife.org or following them on Instagram using their handles @littlenows or @leadtolife.

The track for the music was produced by Stoic Beats. The Lead to Life mantras were written by brontë velez and Kyle Lemle from Lead to Life. brontë also recommends picking up Loam Magazine and Earth is Ohana’s collaboration on Compassion in Crisis. Follow and support  @mia.mingus for Disability Justice wisdom during this time, and follow @weavingearth for an upcoming Earth intimacy series called Wild Reckoning.

Stay connected with our community on social media and visit our website www.forthewild.world where you can sign up for our newsletter and explore our anthology of episodes. We would be grateful if you consider supporting us on Patreon and giving us a rating on iTunes.

Our theme music for Deeply Rooted is from Pura Fe with their song “Home.” I'd like to thank our incredible podcast production team, Aiden McCray, Andrew Storrs, Carter, Lou McElroy, Erica Ekrem, Eryn Wise, Francesca Glaspell, Hannah Wilton, and Melanie Younger. All right, until next week.

Our theme music is the song "Home" by Pura Fe and you also heard music from Lyla herself. The poem And God is the Water was written and performed by Lyla June. I'd like to thank our podcast production team Aiden McCray, Andrew Storrs, Carter Lou McElroy, Erica Ekrem, Eryn Wise, Francesca Glaspell, Hannah Wilton, and Melanie Younger.