Darice M. Jones and Quinzee the Artist

Quinzee the Artist
Graphic art
Inspiration piece

By Darice M. Jones

I came forth from the deep, dark, cool blue(s), purples, and teals of an asylum orb up in the stars. The orb provided a safe space for beings when they transcended identity on any planet. I emerged today just for a little while, to tell you how I got to my current digs out in the galaxy with others who are transitioning from bodies to interstellar beings. I had lived a life from birth to transition amongst the colorful and insolent people of Earth for a little over 120 years.

I was one of the privileged who lived in relative peace by the time I was 12 decades in, which gave me some space to contemplate my existence and just existence overall. Global societies were seriously messed up on the one hand, controlled and manipulated by people, hoarders, who believed they had not only a right, but an obligation to rule over the masses. They maintained their tenuous position at the top of a very shaky hierarchy through violence alongside the constant threat of violence, through spreading miseducation about both current events and historical ones, and by training people to have loyalty to various religions, countries, pop culture icons/brands, ideas of wealth (or resource hoarding) as an indicator of intellectual strength and overall rightness. Anything but loyalty to each other. Anything but loyalty to life itself. Because of all that, being a person was exhausting, even if you didn’t live in one of the poverty traps or in one of the war-torn places.

On the other hand, there was a global awakening taking place. With all its problems, some technological advances had acted to connect people on the planet like never before. The trifecta of travel, the internet, and the realization in many parts of the world simultaneously that spirituality was more than any one religious practice was having a strong effect. People were realizing that there were many paths to truth and that controlling others was not one of them – nor was being controlled. People were realizing that working together to achieve a higher aim, a greater good, was more important that projecting some supposed superiority or sense of power over another. Beautiful humanity was returning to its knowledge that all things were connected and all life was meant to fully blossom.

On Earth I had many labels. Because of the wildly uncouth social structures, those labels determined many of the opportunities or lack thereof in life. I was a member of many socially disrespected but spiritually powerful groups. I was descended from the first peoples on the big continent who had retained our melanin, my skin was a deep brown, I was Black. I was one of the life givers – a woman. I was one of those sent to bridge philosophical gaps – queer. And the social structures made all those identities mean something in the daily work of staying alive, clothed, housed, fed, and connected to other beings. Simultaneously, everyone on the planet knew there was something more.

What they didn’t know was that often, when people discovered their own ability to totally transcend the forced density of being bound to the details of an incarnation – we would simply leave the earth. That’s what happened to me as I was approaching my 123nd birthday. I was healthier than ever, joyful despite feeling awkward in a job that didn’t hold much meaning, and I was very entrenched in a community of fellow plant parents who traded secrets of growing lush plant babies and delicious, organic, nourishing foods.

My life felt full of learning, family, friendship, connection to the earth, and through a year of consistent meditation – a connection to the ethereal. I had long been comfortable with, even proud of my identities. Then, one day I ran across and listened to a podcast on visualization. It had only a few hundred followers, but as soon as I heard the host’s voice, I felt at home. She sounded very much like my high-school choir leader, Mrs. Jeffries. So much so that I looked up her picture to confirm it wasn’t her. It was a silly thought, considering my age. Even if she were still around, it was unlikely she was podcasting. Anyway, the actual podcaster’s cool tenor voice vibrated with knowing.

She led what I would guess is the most powerful visualization exercises ever enacted anywhere. I should have known it was something different when she started with so many warnings, disclaimers, and rules. For the visualization exercise to be effective she said, we’d need a quiet space, comfortable loose clothing, something from the natural world touching us (like a pebble or even sunrays), and we’d need to be willing to release our attachments. That last one, about attachments, felt way too broad. I chalked it up to her being an amateur podcaster. But, since her voice was both inviting and comforting, I followed all of her directions. Even the one about release to undefined attachments. She asked us to sit with her for 15 seconds in silence, despite the fact that dead air was a big no-no for podcasters, clubhouse chatters, and radio personalities worldwide.

During that 15 seconds, all we heard was her breathing. It was slow and steady and just as comforting as her voice. For me, that 15 seconds felt as though I had just received the best massage. My whole body relaxed. I felt no tension within myself. I felt no pain. No need to be anywhere or doing anything else. It was really something. Then her beautiful tenor voice returned.

“Close your eyes.
Breath in connection.
Breath out discontent.
Know that you are loved.
Know that you have always been loved.
Remember yourself as a baby.
Allow yourself to be small and naked and new.
See yourself emerging from an inner sanctum.
It does not matter if your mother was able to be healthy while incubating you.
You came from the loving cosmos and your mother held you as best a being could for those months.
Remember yourself as new.
Now, See yourself as a toddler.
Breath in connection.
Breath out discontent.
Know that you are loved.
Know that you have always been loved…”

And she went on like that through the different stages of life all the way up through elderhood. Was I an elder, at 122? I had to laugh at myself. Child! If not now, when. I giggled heartily. Other than that fleeting inside joke moment, I stuck closely with her through the long exercise. Once she’d gone through all the stages of life, she got to the part about release.

“While you can inhabit your body and practice many identities and experiences based on the body you have and how you choose to cultivate it – you are not your body. You are pure consciousness. You are a whole vibe. You are the energy that determines how a thing feels, but you are not the thing.

You are not your hair. You are not your skin,” she said. (I thought briefly of India Arie)

“You are not your size. You are not your physical ability. You are not your mental ability. You are not your attractions. You are not your birth order. You are not your astrological or numerology . You are not your education or income. You are not your job or jobs. You are not your neighborhood. You are not your talents. You are not your diagnoses, physical or emotional. You are not your personality. You are not your addictions. You are not your accomplishments.

I want you to take another few breaths with me. Breathe everybody. Breathe.”

She spoke as if the whole world were listening. I felt as if the whole world were breathing with me at just the pace she’d set. Then, her magical voice returned to us.

“Now, I want you to see yourself.
Visualize your physical body sitting on a deep blue sofa.
Now visualize your spirit sitting next to your physical body.
You may be asking yourself what your spirit looks like. Well,
Remember, you’re a whole vibe, and energy, a feeling.
So your spirit may be multicolored and bodyless and floating vibrations
Or maybe it is a thousand sparks of light dancing around each other in the same little space
Energy moves, so your spirit body is likely swirling with motion, dancing within itself.”

The crazy thing about it was, I could see everything she was saying. And as I looked at my physical body sitting next to my soul body on a deep blue couch in my mind’s eye, I felt more connected to my soul than to my body. I realized that the consciousness that was me was so much more. I found myself suddenly thanking my physical body. Thank you for being tall, dark, brown, curvy, with amazingly stylish naps on our head, and for walking me through the lessons being a daughter, a sister, a friend, a student, a parent, a neighbor, a teacher, a healer, a person sometimes without money, a person sometimes without a place to stay, a queer person, a person who was sometimes sadder than sad, a person who was sometimes more euphoric than happy…

I went on and on like that, thanking my body for all these different elements of my journey, for reasons I couldn’t place. I could barely hear the podcaster that sounded like Mrs. Jeffries anymore. I saw my body blow me the fondest, most thrilling kiss, and then I couldn’t see her anymore either. I couldn’t see my soul body either. I couldn’t see the blue couch. I couldn’t hear anyone breathing. I had what could only be called an emergence.

All I could hear was a whole vibe, an energy, an atmosphere that sparked things into being. I realized that I was somewhere else entirely. And that I couldn’t see the soul body because I was my soul body. And, having been way out here some time now with others like me, I know that I am here for my own safety to continue to release all that doesn’t proliferate the expansion of life in the universe. And I am here to get ready for my greatest adventure yet. I’ll tell you all about that one when I get there.

By Darice M. Jones
In the Year of Toni Morrison ©2023

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