Death Archives - E. Nichole

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11.21.2020

sweet 16

10.28.2015

February 25th…

04.08.2014

There’s Something About Crying in the Rain

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“as you come out of the sea, naked,⁣ and retur

“as you come out of the sea, naked,⁣
and return to the world full of salt and sun,⁣
reverberating statue and sword of the sand.”⁣
— pablo neruda⁣
⁣
antigua, you were 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠.

“to live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient f

“to live on a day-to-day basis is insufficient for human beings; we need to transcend, transport, escape; we need meaning, understanding, and explanation; we need to see overall patterns in our lives. we need hope, the sense of a future. and we need freedom (or, at least, the illusion of freedom) to get beyond ourselves, whether with telescopes and microscopes and our ever-burgeoning technology, or in states of mind that allow us to travel to other worlds, to rise above our immediate surroundings.

we may seek, too, a relaxing of inhibitions that makes it easier to bond with each other, or transports that make our consciousness of time and mortality easier to bear. we seek a holiday from our inner and outer restrictions, a more intense sense of the here and now, the beauty and value of the world we live in.”

self-e.

with the full moon on sunday, @_selsss suggested i

with the full moon on sunday, @_selsss suggested i do an offering + release what no longer serves me into the ocean, and so i did, very randomly venturing off into the middle of the caribbean sea to go be among stingrays, who are symbolic of maneuverability + mate specifically during the full moon. did i envision ease as part of my expansion? what did i want to produce in this season? how was i seeing my environment as a classroom to study from?

8 minutes out from land, i thought of how much themes of trust + value have repurposed itself in my life as more of an internal guide than something external to give or be given by someone else. and in my head, i heard a song by toni jones that @melaniesantos.co put her membership community on to from her playlist + affirmed the following, understanding what becomes truth through the tongue:

“currency⁣
streams of income, cash flow, liquid assets⁣
why is money associated with water terms?⁣
well, I’m 80% water;⁣
am i the real money?⁣
my worthiness is inherent⁣
i won’t + don’t have to earn it⁣
i relax myself when i’m being tested⁣
in my initiation into flow + love⁣
I call forth all the blessings that belong to me⁣
from the north, the south, east + west⁣
pull up⁣
it’s all coming out of hiding⁣
so i walk into the very existence of i am⁣
full of opulence, luxury, infinite value⁣
and vibrational drip⁣
my birthright is freedom⁣
i am cash flow⁣
i’m a wave all by myself⁣
i open my mind up to hidden truths⁣
of applying myself, yet surrendering⁣
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞⁣
i want more revelation of this truth in my life⁣
in between my goals,⁣
life invites me to enjoy + live it⁣
on a cellular level, my body is obeying love⁣
i am only here temporarily⁣
i commit my time to live truly⁣
my life is more than one big to-do list⁣
i free myself from the bondage of doing⁣
i normalize rest as productivity in my life⁣
i’m flowing currently⁣.
currentsea.”

“take one pint of water, add a half pound of sug

“take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. strain through a clean napkin.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind. found healing where it did not live. discovered the antidote in your own kit. broke the curse with your own two hands. you passed these instructions down to your daughter who then passed it down to her daughter.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
i had my ups and downs, but i aways find the inner strength to pull myself up.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞.”
— warsan shire’s “redemption” for beyoncé’s ‘lemonade’

sit in the ocean. it is one of the best medicines

sit in the ocean.
it is one of the best medicines
on the planet.
—the water by nayyirah waheed

“you nuh ‘fraid?”⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ one of the em

“you nuh ‘fraid?”⁣⁣
⁣⁣
one of the employees of the resort said i’ve come into his view a few times since being here. when i asked if i stood out because i’m traveling alone, he said no, but that he kept watching me because every pic that i have taken has been one that i’ve captured on my own. he wanted to know why i hadn’t stopped the couples passing by or asked one of the many people working on the property to take my picture. in return, i told him i was far from scared, that i’ve always been the type to ask for help, if necessary, and that my personal goal was to capture me in this next chapter how i saw myself. the benefit of traveling alone is getting your photos how you want without the pressure of annoying another person about the angle not being right, your body not being positioned a certain way, the light not hitting how you want it to. but deeper than that, for far too long, i’ve allowed people’s perception of me infiltrate my system which reprogrammed how i did things that otherwise came naturally. i want to finally see me.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
“be softer because you are ‘too aggressive.’” i heard this when i imposed boundaries. “smile, even if it’s inauthentic, because you look angry.” i rewired myself for “the better” never realizing i had to understand my aggression + appearance for self-awareness + acceptance sake first. it makes the molding process easier when you gain an understanding of your why. ‘why am i like this’ has been an evolving question since turning 30 + the more i discover about myself, the more i am either willing to bend and reshape me to my own liking, or make peace with the reality of what is while releasing myself of the past that birthed that quality. so, no, i am not scared. i am unafraid of taking my own photos over + over because it’s synonymous with the internal rebirth happening. eventually you get the picture.⁣
⁣
self-e.

“your angles don’t matter, if the posture of y

“your angles don’t matter, if the posture of your heart isn’t right.” — andrena sawyer⁣
⁣
self-e.

“i fell back, i had a baby, you know, i did the

“i fell back, i had a baby, you know,
i did the mother thing
i did the wife thing
all that, yeah
but i think it’s quite clear now
you’s need the bad guy.”

i am here alone, but i am not lonely. last night,

i am here alone, but i am not lonely. last night, i facetimed my best friend who realized after some time that i was walking around the cottage fully nude. she asked me if i was concerned about being seen by the locals + tourists on the beach beneath me, but quickly retracted her statement to confirm that i have always been one unafraid to undress in front of the group. it stayed with me for the rest of the evening until i went to bed, lining up my perception of a developing body before + postpartum, to my creativity as a vulnerable writer. sometimes i do not like what i see, what is revealed in the process, but i always respect the realness of what is because it tells of a journey that wouldn’t have existed any other way. my body is no different; battle scars and babies and secrets implanted in the skin, across stretch marks that cocoa butter never erased. some things you just have to live with.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
the conversation spilled over into this morning when i spoke with @savannahtaider about the landscape at the resort here + wanting to experience the natural order of things moving forward in my life. nature exposes you to that in the coconut trees that can only grow in the caribbean or in the water that gives you both clarity + your own reflection. i think about how feminine sexuality is celebrated here as “simply the way people are,” but shunned back home. i think about what my in-laws consume as natives of this island and see such differences in upbringing, thinking + livelihood. i’m eliminating force, no longer able to push + pull what opposes me, unwilling to force what doesn’t fit. anyone that knows me deeply knows that i am controlling, perhaps by nature (or dare i say, trauma). but i see where that gets me + how it leaves no room for release. and so every day i repeat the affirmation: “i release the need to control what the universe is already handling.” if it does not align with the vision, i am not vested in it. i am married to the unexplored versions of myself. i am always stripping myself, uncovering layers to uproot what’s organic. i feel best when bare. where there is nothing to control. when things just are. natural.⁣
⁣
here alone, but not lonely.

take your last vacation in 2016. have a baby. move

take your last vacation in 2016. have a baby. move out-of-state. have your life flipped + turned upside down. work 227 covid shifts at a hospital. see the fragility of life in a new way. get three of your children through virtual learning for 15 months. cry at 3-something in the morning about being burnt out. remember that we have an internal control system in place that allows us to create our realities. remember what happens around us is not 100% ours, but what happens within us must be our making.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
put pen to paper + keep the word ‘expand’ on a post-it note. pray for this to be personified in all areas of your life. add on to your ‘doing things “late”, but right on time’ list by applying for your passport for the first time at 34. book your first international flight for only $300 roundtrip without an actual passport because never forget you bought a car without a license. maybe it’s habit; maybe it’s faith. watch the news report passport delays from 12-18 weeks—get yours in 5 with less than 20 days to spare because fortune favors the brave. because if its meant to be, it will.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
find out that expansion requires exclusion, of loved ones + appreciated things. understand the necessity of quarantine in a global crisis only mirrored the seclusion you would need to evolve. as the universe, so the soul. leave everyone back home to explore a foreign country for two weeks all by yourself. have an eat-pray-love-how-E-got-her-groove-again moment. see isolation as “an unwanted solitude forced on one by circumstances,” but “a freedom to choose solitude, of anything else for that matter, is part of the awakening.” ⁣⁣
⁣⁣
vow not to repeat the first half.⁣
continue that last part.⁣
see you in september, ‘merica.

it was supposed to rain the day of my photoshoot.

it was supposed to rain the day of my photoshoot. my best friend traveling down from new york + I tracked this for seven straight days leading up to that saturday + I accepted an outcome of gloomy photos even before the day’s arrival, prior to greeting the photographer with first-time hugs. sometimes, I welcome things without having met it physically because of history, because of what’s already etched in stone as a promise—a neurological response that alleviates any incoming calls from anxiety ahead of time. protection or pessimism? but nature is a lesson + 90% chance of rain still leaves room for other possibilities. the 10% can still outweigh the majority, especially when something, someone, higher is in control.⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
the morning was bright to all of our amazement + for the first time, I reversed positions + let someone capture me in the light—sun + inner. a genuine shot of laughter, a friend + photographer cracked compliments from the sidelines. they were very much a part of the photo, even with them not being present as the subject. Black women affirming a Black woman, extracting energy. an inner g. words you cannot hear, hands that don’t appear that helped pin together a dress + zip boots. I think of this in taking notice of my shadow.⁣
⁣
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰?⁣⁣⁣
⁣⁣⁣
i’ve been in communication with this the last two years, writing out memories, reviving + reliving, interrogating + interviewing the buried what was. remembering tapping into the shadow is the highest form of light work. it eliminates the theory that we live separate versions of ourselves; it embraces a deeper understanding of the “awareness-awakening trajectory”. i hope this gemini season, you integrate the seen + unseen. knowing that even at night, the sun still appears elsewhere. knowing that it is all still part of the Self.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.

“a queen⁣ offers her hand to be kissed,⁣ and

“a queen⁣
offers her hand to be kissed,⁣
and can form it into a fist⁣
while smiling the whole damn time.”⁣
— @acevedowrites
⁣
34.⁣

makeup slay by @titimarie_.

restoration: to bring back to a former position or

restoration: to bring back to a former position or condition; a restoring to an unimpaired or improved condition. it was the year to go home. not to ny, but to the centers of my insides. 33 did just that, turning me inside out + right-side up to get to the core of who I am. crucifying + crossing out what I no longer needed. for higher purposes. a Jesus year indeed.⁣
⁣
Octavia Butler wrote to me through lauren olamina, both 28 years ago + four years from today’s date. it is the only entry for april in parable of the sower. today, I turn 34. the writings of the past + future intersect where Octavia’s words have taken shape + has a body. I worked backwards + wrote a prologue in july. taking 5 months to write + 30 years to heal a secret that showed up traits planted in trauma, I pulled my inner child out of my work, out of my own body. things began to make sense—flaws + fears, speech + spiritual gifts. I gave it a name + identified it for what it is. in uprooting it, I took the parts of me that have become deficient + repotted would could be restored. more than I could see initially, there was plenty to be salvaged. hurt blinds you to that revelation, but when you excavate deep enough, there is still more to explore. hopeful, every experience is a dot that I thread together to make clear my purpose. i do not just construct stories, but i am a breathing book, filled with unfinished sentences started by little E + needing completion with today’s hand—one that could only conclude what was started with the cards God dealt me; chapters that ended with my foremothers + beginning anew and for the first time with me; a book held together by a binding, both sturdy + flexible. Erica at 4; Erica at 34, intrinsically + intimately intersected. ⁣
⁣
my memoir’s titled ‘what binds us together’ + if you’ve been following for a while, you know its origins. 33 revealed what happened as a child that kept me in a bind + this moving forward is what and who I am bound to by way of blood relations + life’s blessings. like ‘bind’, I am more than one definition. no matter the many routes, the journey ended up one place, the end always in. thankfully, I made it back.⁣
⁣
it’s good to be home.

to the quiet one. who still sleeps with his toddle

to the quiet one. who still sleeps with his toddler blanket. that occasionally sneaks in his momma’s bed to cuddle + watch anime on saturday nights, to see who between us can fall asleep under the arms of the other first. i usually win. my number two, but never second. an old soul + highly intuitive child with gifts that expose me to the lives you have lived before this one, evidence of the breadth of your wisdom that extends far beyond this earth. a crystal collector. a gem you are.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
the stand-out kind with a knack for cracking jokes—you get your wit + fast lines from your father, but like a true aries, your punchlines leave no room for comebacks. a creative comic kid with ill storytelling skills you’ve inherited from mom. an exceptional 11th grade reader. we stan a lover of literature. i’ve appreciated your takes on wes moore’s memoir ‘the other wes moore’, interpretations to abstract art, and your gen alpha elucidations to marshmello’s music video to “stars”. i learn so much beside you. because of you. because, you.⁣⁣
⁣⁣
to the brains of the bunch. the 2019 and 2020 recipient of academic achievement by the council of elders of the black community of howard county’s black student achievement program. your accomplishments are your own. flipping the social rejections you faced early in life, you were never one to fit in. we laugh because they follow you now. a nonconformist. a blossoming pianist. ⁣
⁣
my number two, but always first. number two, you are my number one. ⁣⁣
⁣⁣
to the keeper of Kai. right hand to Kae. the monopoly master to dad. the warmest hugger to mom. the class clown. happy 11th birthday, Kamryn Mikhail. you truly are the master teacher.

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