Face your Fears, Close the Cycle: The most profound trauma in my life I wore on my sleeve for 30 years (actually I bare it as a scar on my leg). It represented a badge of fear, of secrecy, of shame. The secret is out. I no longer sweep things under the rug. Having confronted unbearable abusive violation from someone who should have kept me safe, I shot myself as if to create a sort of closure. Children and victims are disempowered from domain and must often take drastic steps to stimulate change. I understand this now. I understood this better and forgave myself when my own child was 16. Nonetheless I still carried the fear and trauma of that part of my life.
This is the year I learned to shoot a gun not pointed at myself: After a series of baby steps, on my 46th birthday I went to the gun range with my mentor 71 year old Bob Golden, a retired military career badass. He taught me to breathe and he stood right by me. He told me I couldn’t run away from it. “YOU WILL SHOOT,” he said. And when I did it reversed 30 years of gun related trauma. I emerged from the ashes of trauma like a phoenix rising on the eve of the New Moon in Cancer with the Solar eclipse in synergistic opposition to transformational Pluto. A cycle was closed. I now bare a scar as a badge of survival, wisdom. and power.
He was a mentor to me.
“Grief expressed out loud for someone we have lost, or a country or home we have lost, is in itself the greatest praise we could ever give them. Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses.” Martín Prechtel
Unburdening: How do you carry the experiences that you have been through? Do you lug them around outside of you like luggage or do you assimilate them into your core wisdom. Recently I visited several countries in the span of one month hoping to release some of the pain I have carried this year. Ironically my shoulder ached with burden of baggage and I knew it was more than baggage in the literal sense. I carried a broken relationship which I had yet to assimilate and appreciate for all of its gifts. I carried the loss of loved ones (RIP Jim, Sam, Kenny) as a heavy burden. I expressed grief as a lost cause instead of as an expression of praise. I’d been hauling a full cart around the aisles of my life pushing my wounds and the wounds of my ancestors onto my children, onto my loved ones and deeper into myself.
I now have been home for close to a couple of weeks and my shoulder is at ease. And my heart is at ease. Drum and Bass moved through me and and shook loose that which was buried deep, and dusted off that which was lingering on the surface. I knelt before spirit with humility and lay my tears at the foot of the Hill of Crosses, in the cavern of the Sacred Salt Cathedral and at the Gates of Dawn with the Mother of Mercy. I spent days in silence allowing the wounded voice within me to emerge into a sense. That sense was self care. “I can take care of me.”
“Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.” Paul Coelho
Healing wounds of former generations: I met my biological brother this year and I am bonding with 2 new sisters. We do not need to know the how or the why of our parent’s decisions. This belongs to them. But get this. Our willingness to transcend fear of old wounds to pave new relationships healed the past for the future.
The Motherland: I also travelled to Bogota and met my mother and sister there. Mami had not visited Bogota in over 40 years. She finally got to show us around. I got to see the area where my Abuelito used to work as a tailor and my Mami and sister got to journey to my mother’s childhood home. This is full circle healing.
2018 was rough but I am happy to share some of my learnings. Happy New Year. May 2019 be uplifting and meaningful to us all. Love, Junglist Mami
Endings: Goodbye Timo’s House. Congratulations to 7 years of community and local music in the heart of Asheville. Thank you for making me a better person.
The music, the tears, the joy and the laughter I experienced there: The sacred left corner with the buddha deej of deep and dark. The night I won the fully autographed World of Drum and Bass poster. The night that Phlo*em filled the house with pro level rappers and performed in front of a crowd that was way beyond comfort level. The almost fights which evolved into friendship with that overbearing couple. Spraining my ankle but pretending I was fine the night I hung out with Digital. The night Matt brought the bass with the giant sub box. The quality times I have shared there with my own child when they turned 21. Friendship with Klose. New Year’s countdown crying because he had just left for good. ADBC. Kisses by the Jukebox corner with someone special. Working the door and cooking for the crews. Stamping Friction’s hand. The time I vomited there after receiving a hurtful message I couldn’t handle. Being the UU-Ma for Underground Unheard. Biltmore Connect. Dancing with my QUEEN. SUV and Latin infused DnB. That spot on the stairs where I can dance and look over the whole crowd. Kisses at that spot with someone sweet. Watching Grassley’s funky dance moves. Selfies in a graffiti bathroom. The night Phlo*em performed right after the death metal group. The sidewalk. Local hip hop and legendary drum and bass!
Junglist Mami Nomad 
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