Chapter 10
The corrective mechanism is always triggered by the entity to be corrected. Homeostasis — Biology
Love Under the Kola Nut Tree: What city moms didn’t tell you about creating fulfilling relationships
When I was in tenth grade I had a biology teacher I truly loved. He was
an elderly Indian man and we prefixed his last name with “daddy” becausehe truly treated us like his kids. One day during an Anatomy, Physiology,and Hygiene class, Daddy Chandra said, “We are going to be studying homeostasis. Now, homeostasis is the maintenance of equilibrium, or constantconditions, or balance in a biological system of higher animals by means of coordinated automatic mechanisms that counteract influences tending towards
disequilibrium.”
“Please explain,” a student requested.
“Basically, as you are sitting here right now, things are happening in
your body to make sure your internal environment stays constant, like your
temperature or the salt water balance in your body. This ‘fixity of the milieu
interieur’ is essential to the life of higher organisms.”
Hunger was happening to me for sure, and I needed some food to maintain
my internal environment. So I slipped my hand under my desk and pinched
off some French bread I had tucked away. I acted like I was about to wipe my
mouth and I popped the bread in. Now you can talk about homeostasis, Daddy.
When you are young and in boarding school, food is a constant on your
mind as your internal environment won’t let you get away without nourishing
it. We always had a fork in our back pockets because we never knew when and
where we would find some grub.
“You understand me, Mariyah?” Daddy Chandra had eyes all over his
body. He might have been slow and potbellied, but his missed nothing.
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“Now close your books and listen to me. What I’m going to tell you is very,
very important. The corrective mechanism is always triggered by the entity to
be corrected.” He walked around the class as he lectured.
“And that is the law of homeostasis.” He stopped by my desk and looked
at me. The piece of bread was safely in my stomach and I was sure that was the
corrective mechanism I had taken.
“Find that entity and correct it and you are home free.” Amen to that as
my hungry pangs were dispelled. He went on to explain and teach us all about
homeostasis and the different examples in the human body.
That lesson was probably one of the most important and valuable lessons
of my life. I applied Daddy Chandra’s law of homeostasis to so many different
situations of life—biological and non-biological—and have always been able
to solve the problem. The key is the entity that triggered the problem in the
first place. If you can figure this causative entity out, you can figure out the
corrective mechanism. The law of Cause and Effect is always at play; just think
outside the box a little.
Keep digging until you get to the right element that triggered your
relationship issues, as it is not always immediately obvious. Do not treat the
output or symptoms; find the real inputs and correct them, then the right
output will just happen.
Many of us are too lazy or scared to get to the bottom of our issues so
we blame everything and everyone else, knowing deep down we are not being
truthful. I have also found out that many people just enjoy staying in this pity-me-
state to drum up sympathy and attention.
With Julie sitting in limbo, or rather passing out in limbo in my arms,
my instincts kicked in and I knew we would need to apply some relationship
homeostasis if there was any chance of rescuing this relationship. Where
was Maya Sophia when you needed her? What was she still doing in the car
anyway? We could hear Micah coming downstairs.
“Daddy,” he called out.
“Get up before Micah freaks out,” I urged as I pushed against her limp
body. Julie did not move and neither did she care who saw her on the floor.
“Mommy, are you all right?” Micah dragged his cast-bound leg to his
mom’s side.
“Mommy has a headache. Please, Micah, open the door and call grandma
Maya for me,” I asked Micah. He opened the front door, stepped outside and
shouted back, “Maya is not out here.” Even Julie reacted to that. The last thing
any one of us wanted to deal with was looking for a black African grandma in
this neighborhood. Julie lifted herself off of me as if asking me to get out there
and confirm what Micah relayed.
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I got up and looked outside and sure enough, Maya Sophia was not in
Julie’s car.
“I do not have the energy right now to deal with this,” I murmured. I had
to attend to Julie and Micah and now Maya was pulling some crap like this on
me. She had better have a good reason to wander around Bethesda.
“She is not out here,” I told Julie.
“Call James and asked if he saw her in the car when he left.” She tried to
push up off the floor, but her energy failed her and she made herself comfortable
against the wall. Micah crawled into her lap and she reluctantly put her left
hand around him. He wiped her eyes with Kleenex.
“Mama, did someone die?” He was not used to seeing his mother cry.
“James, did you see Maya when you left the house?” I asked when James
answered his cell phone.
“I am alright,” Maya responded. James had immediately passed the cell
phone to her when I asked about her. It was clear he did not want to talk to
me, probably thinking Julie would come on line.
“Where are you, and where are you going?” I asked.
“I asked James to take me home, okay. You all take care now.” I sensed
a little irritation on her part and a ‘don’t ask too many questions’ energy.
She hung up the phone. Now relieved she was okay, my mind flooded with
questions about the situation at hand. What had made James snap and how
could they be brought back together? Therapist, my buddies, and Maya had
not helped. I wondered again about this egg spinning thing that Maya had
done at the hospital when Micah was very sick. Maybe we could spin some
now because we needed either magic or divine intervention to get James to
reconsider his decision. Julie had seriously violated the relationship for sure,
but I thought progress had been made.
What village mom starting teaching us that city mom did not.
When James first stepped out of his house with his suitcase, coat, and hat
in hand, Maya was waiting for him.
“Hi, Maya.” James had a lot of respect for Maya and could not just walk
past her.
One of the things I observed was Maya Sophia’s effect on men. All my
friends’ boyfriends had incredible reverence for her and showed it in subtle
ways. For example, their body language, their tone of voice changed, and they
craved her attention and would do anything for her. They would stay at the
house if she was there, but they didn’t extend such consideration to their own
girlfriends. She had a way with these men that I secretly longed to have. She
did not fuss, raise her voice, or make demands, but men from Dr. Morgan to
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James Walker relaxed completely in her presence. They seemed to derive a type
of grounding from her. I wondered if she knew this or if it was an art that she
could teach me. I could not ask her at first because I did not know what it was
and could not put it in words. Secondly, I did not think I was royal or woman
enough to command such presence. I made a mental note to gather enough
courage to ask her before she went back to Malah.
“Ma Pikin,” she called James ‘my child’ in Pidgin English. Though Maya
never attended school, she could speak English and Pidgin, as the need arose.
She knew what language to use to get what she wanted. After a year of her
presence, she and James could talk and James spoke fluent Pidgin; granted,
he owned a company that did work in developing countries so he was used to
different vernaculars and variations of English. He was a good businessman.
“Mama.” Did he just call this African woman “mother,” he caught himself
wondering.
“Where you di go?” she asked in Pidgin English.
“I am going to the hotel for the night.”
“Take me home, ma pikin.” She still clung to her Rosary. James put his
suitcase and coat in the trunk of his Mercedes.
“Let me tell Mariyah I am taking you home,” he said.
“Don’t worry, let’s go,” Maya responded. James was not in a mood to argue
with her; neither did he want to deal with two sobbing women nor Micah
trying to follow him. So he opened the passenger door and closed it after
Maya got in.
“Don’t take the beltway please,” Maya said as James pulled out. He had
planned to take the beltway, as that would be quicker and he could then be
by himself. I lived in Silver Spring; going through the neighborhood was a
little longer but filled with beautiful early summertime foliage. Maya was not
interested in sightseeing, even if there had been daylight. They drove for a mile
without speaking.
“I see you vex plenty.” Maya was talking more Pidgin English to James
today than during in her whole stay.
James did not respond. His mind digested all the presumable bad things
Julie had done to him. He was wallowing in his own misery and the more he
thought about the betrayals, the more he did not want to see Julie. He was
not concerned about Micah’s well being. He would work it out; he loved the
boy and would never abandon him. That was his son and the fact he had but
a few weeks ago found out he was not Micah’s real daddy did not change his
love for Micah.
“Ma pikin,” Maya continued. She knew James was too angry to talk. She
got him in the car just where she wanted and he could not run away, so now he
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had to listen. “Men and women issues are very complicated. I stay home all day
when you all go to work and I watch television. Men and women are doing bad
things to each other on television, and then they cry as if they did not know
their actions had consequences,” she continued.
James glanced at her and wondered what was new about that observation.
To him that was the essence of the world he knew and lived in. He had not just
expected his marriage to become like one of those stories on TV. He was now
going to become an element in the statistics.
It was now dark as they drove through the winding East West Highway.
He drove slowly as his mind clouded with misery. It consumed a lot of energy
to pay attention to Maya. He would have loved to be lying down with a stiff
drink. Faintly he heard Maya saying, “Children are not yours. They are only
yours when in the womb. They only come through you to be prepped for the
world. You are a Christian; think what Joseph went through, especially in
those days.”
Poor guy, James thought, but at least he knew from the start he was not Jesus’
dad and he made his peace with that.
“You have been chosen to usher Micah into the world. Of all people, he
chose to come through your home. When you did not know he was not your
son, you were okay. But the minute you knew it you fell apart. Nothing has
changed on the outside world.”
James thought this old woman must be blind; life was not the same since
the discovery. He was not his son’s father. His whole world changed. He kept
driving as they had about five more miles to go.
“You see, ma pikin, what you think about all the time is what you make
happen. Julie did a very bad thing and if she were my daughter, I would have
put her on my knee and whipped her behind myself.” Now you are talking, James
thought, though I should be the only one whipping her behind. Oops, bad thought,
as it sent a tremble of anguish through him. Hmmm, maybe she’s got a point
about this thinking stuff .
“You all have been to those doctors that help married people; what do you
call them?” Maya asked and James was now obligated to talk.
“Relationship Therapist,” James responded.
“Eh heh, therapy—didn’t they help you?”
“They did.”
“Then we talked at Mariyah’s house and I thought things were getting
better. Julie apologized and promised to be responsible. What changed?” Maya
asked.
“Maya, I can’t trust her anymore. I feel she might do it again, but what
really messed me up is the mental image of her and another man. I can’t deal
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with that image. It is driving me crazy.” James’s anger resonated through the
car.
“So that is what you have been thinking about, my son.”
“Yes. I see that man and who knows what other men touching her body
that is supposed to be touched only by me and my stomach hurts. Then she
comes home and loves me and I feel like I’ve been poisoned.” James was so
angry he gripped the steering wheel of his Benz hard. Maya could hear he was
near tears. She did not say a word for the rest of the drive home but simply
meditated on her rosary.
When an eagle cries, the tears bless the earth.
When they arrived in Silver Spring, Maya asked James to stay awhile so
they could talk. She offered James a glass of water and sat down on the couch
while James flopped on a beanbag and leaned back on the couch where she was
sitting. He told her his anger, his frustrations, and all his dashed dreams. At
the age of fifty-four he would have to start all over. Maya sat and listened and
let him pour out his heart. He needed to talk.
While we women had ministered to Julie’s emotions, nobody had
ministered to his from the misconception that men don’t easily get hurt. Maya
put her hand on his shoulder and he started to cry. He placed his head on her
leg and wept like he had never done in his life. The old woman gave him love
and warmth. It was almost as though he could feel his mother’s presence in the
room. He became a boy and he knew Mama would fix it as always. So he let
it out, all his problems from junior high, high school, college, work, and past
relationships. He dug them all out and cried all those tears he stuffed inside.
Maya hummed a tune and rocked and rubbed his shoulders and just let him
cry. She did not try to stop or comfort him verbally. She remained present, and
that was all he needed.
After he stopped crying, Maya gave him another glass of water to drink
and asked him to go wash his face. Like a little boy, he did and once he drank
the water, peace enveloped him.
“What do I do now? I am so afraid of what she could do in the future, but
I am also afraid of walking out and abandoning Micah and Julie, for I do love
them,” James said now that he was more composed.
“Love is not enough reason to stay in a marriage,” Maya quietly replied.
“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to try and make it work,”
James asked, confused by what Maya had just said. If love was not enough
reason to stay in a marriage, he got this all wrong.
“I did not say get a divorce. I mean there are many other things that make
up a marriage. Just love alone is not enough,” Maya reiterated.
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“I know trust is very important. Also respect. Okay, I have my own
company and make lots of money. We can buy whatever we want and travel to
any place in the world.” James took another drink of water.
“With all this material wealth, titles, degrees, and all the help you got, you
all are still crying; you are here and Julie is at your house,” Maya responded.
“Maya, I did not do anything wrong. I did my very best to make sure my
wife and kid had the best home and things money could buy. What else could
a brother have done?” His comprehension was waning.
“Do you want to know what you all could have done to have a stable
relationship?” Maya asked. James wondered why she had to ask for his
permission to tell him when he was stressing so badly.
“Do you think you have a better idea than all that I’ve heard on the past few
weeks?” This village mother had helped make a starting difference with his son,
but marriage was another thing all together. This was not Malah; marriage in
Malah and America were totally different. However, he acknowledged his son
was eating better, sleeping better, and concentrating on tasks more. He had
paid for the best marriage counselors and he was still unhappy, so what could
she do? “I have nothing to lose,” he concluded.
“It is not a better idea, ma pikin. It is the way of the ground, or the earth,
as you all call it here. You can’t change it; whether you go up or come down,
you must always come back to it.”
Okay, I have lots of education; I’ve never heard this before. But I have all night,
so humor me, James mused.
“When you want to know let me know.”
Why does she want me to ask her? James wondered. “Yes, I want to know,”
he finally admitted.
“Good,” Maya had a serious look in her face. “Before I tell you, I want you
to tell me if you want your marriage back. Do you want to be back with your
wife?”
Okay, this old village mom must have lost her mind or she is sick and feeding
off my misery, James speculated as he grew irritated by Maya’s questions. He
wondered why he had to declare his intentions of wanting his wife back.
James was about to say yes when it occurred to him that saying yes would
mean accepting Julie’s infidelity, her past, and the fact Micah was not his son.
Saying yes would mean he would have to work harder to find out what Julie’s
needs were and to satisfy those needs. His mind reeled with responsibilities
and that scared him, but something also happened. He realized there would
also be joyous times ahead. Maya was smart, after all; she was on to something.
Nice trick.
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Chapter 11
If you alter your thoughts and your words, you will alter
your life.
Maya wanted James to state his purpose. By declaring his intentions he was
sending a clear message to the Universe, God, the Cosmic, Vital Force, Being,
the Grand Architect of the Universe, Allah, the Subconscious, the Master
Within, or whatever your Source is. You can call him or her whatever works for
you. To me it is one and the same. I look at it this way: Some people understand
the world through mathematics, some through art, some through music, or
physics, chemistry, history, sports or psychology. It is still the same world. It
is still the same Source; and some will understand him via Christianity, some
via Buddhism, some via Hermetism, or some other thought.
We do not get what we want the way we think we should because we are
not clear about what we want. A lot of people want a good relationship but
they say “nobody is perfect.” Without meaning to, they negate the fact that
there is such an experience as a good relationship. Because they do not have
needlepoint clarity and belief in the possibility of a good relationship or perfect
person, they subconsciously send this message out to their Source.
When James did not know Micah was not his son, he was happy. When
he found out the betrayal, the bottom of his marriage fell through. Trust had
been violated. This happened because he conjured all sorts of illusions in his
mind. Nothing had changed physically—traffic was still the same, the same
news anchor came on TV, fast food tasted the same, and NASDAQ was going
up and down as usual. All that had changed was what he visualized and dwelt
on. That became his reality.
What you think about is what you will eventually manifest in your life.
If you think you want to eat fried chicken, you will not end up eating fried
plantains. You will structure your day, time, and driving route to get this
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chicken. If you think all day about having a fight with your partner, you will end
up somehow at least with an argument no matter how accommodating your
partner is. We hear about “self fulfilling prophesies” all the time. Prophesy
thus unto thyself and relationships good things! As you do, watch the universe
connive to bring your prophesy into fruition.
Your mind is the garden where seeds are planted and watered by the
thought energy we give to those seeds. Those seeds geminate in the physical
plane. Athletes do this all the time. If unhealthy thoughts produce unhealthy
experiences in our lives, conversely, healthy thoughts should germinate healthy
experiences.
When you plant one grain of corn, you always harvest more than one grain.
Birds migrate and come back at the end of the season in greater numbers.
Thoughts are the same; they are like the grain that we plant and then harvest
at the end of the season, but always in multiple fold. That is a law of nature and
you can use it beneficially to your relationships or to their detriment. The only
way you can live in harmony is to cultivate harmonious thoughts and deeds.
Cultivating harmonious thoughts takes practice but more importantly a
choice to cultivate them. Our experiences in life are a consequence of the choices
that we make daily, hourly, and every minute. Maya wanted James to first make
a choice of whether he wanted a good marriage. This marriage could be with
anybody, as there is no one person branded as your only soul mate. If that were
the case, then searching for your soul might be futile because they might be in
the south while you are in the northwest, or they might already be dead. So the
first thing you have to realize is that you have to make a choice as to what you
want. This sounds very simplistic, but try asking a few friends or the person you
are dating what they really want relationship-wise or career-wise or any wise
for that matter, and you will see a lot of us are not clear on what we want. This
obscurity sends hazy demands to the Cosmic and we get back exactly what we
asked for. Then we think our demands are not being answered.
For example, I have a friend who wants to be in a relationship. When asked
what type of relationship, he is vague about whether he wants a companion for
movies, travel, and sex only, or whether he wants someone to cultivate intimacy
with that could lead to a lasting relationship, or whether he wants to find a
partner with the qualities that could eventually lead to a marriage. One thing
for sure is that he wants sex. So he gets sex all the time but he complains about
meeting the wrong women. He has not aligned his intentions with his thoughts
because he is not clear about what he really intends. So he gets what he thinks
about haphazardly: friendship, sex, movie partner, sex, travel companion, sex,
and more sex, but not a lasting committed relationship. One thing he is very
clear about is the sex, so he gets that most often. He might think his prayers are
not being answered but they are. The Universe will give us the “un-clarity” that
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we ask from it. To us we think it is clear but somewhere deep down in us we are
not being fulfilled. Think about it. This applies to all aspects of our life.
So the first thing we must do is choose what we want, the lifestyle we want
to live, and the way we want to affect the world and those around us daily. A
cat knows what it wants and goes for it, making the necessary demands. A
baby knows what it wants and lives it and makes the necessary demands. An
apple tree is very clear about it’s intentions and demands. A lion knows it is
a lion and never tries to be a tiger; neither does the moon try to be the sun.
Maya let us know that we must first know who we are to make such choices.
Who are you?
The farmer does not wait for the day of planting to cultivate his soil.
When I had talked to Maya Sophia on phone while she was in James’ car,
she had asked me in our dialect to bring Julie over if I did not hear from them
in the next hour. Needless to say, I had to cajole the grieving Julie to make that
happen. In my experience, the best currency you can have is good friends;
friends who would take on your burden if the need arose and you don’t have
to even doubt.
When we arrived at my house, James was sitting on a bean bag at Maya’s
feet and Maya looked to me like an ancient goddess in all her glory. There was
a peaceful feeling yet powerful energy in the room. She motioned for Julie to
sit down and asked me to give her a glass of water after I had put Micah to bed.
What is this thing with her and water? Right now Julie and I need a stiff drink and
James needs a butt whipping. I learned to keep my thoughts to myself, especially
since you are never grown to your parents. I did not want the butt whipping I
wished on James. Maya’s whips may not have been physical, but the pain and
resulting discipline they instilled in me encouraged me to seek out healthy
behavior as her rewards were always very educative.
I put Micah in bed, gave Julie a glass of cold water, and was about to go to
my room when Maya asked me, “Where is your own glass of water?”
“I am not thirsty,”
She clapped her cusped hands, shook her head in a disappointed way, and
said, “You do not feed people in your house without tasting the same food.” I
quietly got a glass of water and as I returned to the living room she said in my
dialect, “Sit down, my daughter, and let me talk to you all. The things you do
and say are no different from that of your friends.”
In ninth grade, my smart girl friend used to say, “Aves of the same specie
flock in close proximity.” Saying “birds of the same feather fl y together”
was beneath her. She had a big word for everything. Maya was now almost
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predicting my future marital woes based on my associates.. The people you
surround yourself with do matter, for sooner or later you pick up some of their
culture and language, especially when you do not have yours defined.
Well, Maya, the only way to get a divorce is to be married, and I am not.
“All relationships are marriages of a certain kind,” Maya declared to us. I
told you this woman seems to be a mind reader. So in a way I was married to
all my close friends…definitely not Solace.
“When in a relationship, an energy is created that surrounds that
relationship whether you see it or not,” Maya added.
Maybe that is why I felt at times so close to my coworkers. I spent more
time with them than I spent at home. I was going to sit here and learn wisdom
from now on. So Maya started little by little teaching, mentoring, and guiding
us like a mother duck guides her little baby ducks.
You see, in the village when a man and woman have issues, they go to
their parents or the elders for counsel. At night around a fireplace war is
fought and peace is made. By daybreak the children and the rest of the family
wake up without a clue of the deliberations that had taken place at night. In
the city, when we have issues we scandalize our own very mates by telling
our friends and the world. The energy put into our relationship issues by the
thought process of those we tell our issues to can either enhance or destroy the
relationship. Thought forms are real and do take on a life-like behavior.
Say, for example, your boyfriend suffers from PE (premature ejaculation).
You tell your friends and they sympathize or laugh about it. Your best friend
tells her best friend who tells her best friend and the “sympathy” or laughter
continues. Now sometimes without realizing it they might either wish you
well or enjoy your dilemma. This they do through their thoughts and, like we
discussed earlier, what you think about is what the Universe gives back to you.
So a friend might think, “Good, he has PE, that braggart.” The Cosmic hears
“PE is good,” so more PE is given to him in multiple fold. Remember, you plant
one seed of corn you get back a whole head of corn with lots of seeds on it. This
concept I’ll explain more in a later chapter. This is also commonly known by
another word called “prayer.”
To make this whole village scenario complete, Maya asked me to light a
candle.
“The problem with you city folks is that you have forgotten your elements,”
Maya admonished.
In the village while mothers cooked over the fireplace, they told fables
and folktales to their kids. Through these stories, the laws of nature, family,
community, manhood, and womanhood were taught to the next generation.
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It was easier for children to understand ethical values and spiritual principles
through a story than when given in a lecture or through punishment.
“Today, you don’t even eat together,” Maya continued.
I knew from reading that fire helped focus the mind, among other benefits,
and that is why most prayers were said with candles. But I was beginning to feel
there was more to this fire principle than I found in books. I made a mental
note to ask Maya more about fire before she went back to Africa.
“My children,” Maya still had her rosary in her hand, “when a man and
a woman come together in a relationship, it is for spiritual growth and not to
amass property. You all have the best property I have seen in my stay here, yet
you cannot feed your spirit.”
James and Julie could not look at each other, and I felt like I should not be
in here making them more embarrassed.
“Look at Mariyah—she has more clothes than is needed by the whole
village, even if each one got two outfits, but she cannot even keep a relationship.”
Maya was now getting into my eighteenth zone and I was ready for war. Like
in soccer, once the opponent crossed into your eighteenth zone, it was war
declared. You had to fight hard or they could score a goal against you. Well,
before I could say I was single by choice she continued without even looking
in my direction.
“You all have become so sensitive that over the very smallest thing you
want to fight, divorce, break up, or sue. Even when you do that, you still run
back to the same situation.”
Her words instigated a repeating dream of going around the beltway
without ever being able to exit. I would see an exit approaching, but by the
time I got there it had changed or someone blocked me or I forgot my intent
of exiting. Yes, I was sensitive, but who wasn’t? I did not think it had kept me
in an endless loop.
“If you find a new partner without understanding how the laws of nature
work in relationships, nothing has really changed except the partner. An old
car with a new paint job does not the engine make.” My respect for Maya was
growing by the minute. So this was what I missed by not growing up or visiting
the village more often: wisdom from elders like Maya.
“You have to focus on yourself and not on your mate. Your partner can
never give you something you do not have within you. You would not be able
to recognize and appreciate it,” Maya told us.
I recalled that a few years after living in America, a lady I worked with
liked me so much she gave me her first diamond engagement ring when she
remarried. She told me how much I meant to her and gave me the ring and
I was very happy with her kind words and love. One day a friend saw the
diamond ring in my jewelry case and got all excited.
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“You have a diamond ring. Whoa. Why don’t you wear it? Diamonds are
special; they are a girl’s best friend.” As a network administrator, data backup
was my best friend. To me, diamonds had no special meaning because when I
grew up the village creeks abounded with beautiful stones. Besides, most of my
friends had family members whose body parts had been amputated because of
diamonds. I saw that stone in a totally different light. I grew up with sparkling
stones, fresh flowers, and gems. They made my friends happy, but to me they
were not enough for me to give up my soul, intimacy, or promises.
I once took an African visitor to Washington D.C. to the Smithsonian
Museum for African Art and they promptly walked out. They asked me what
was so special about looking at the calabash bowls and earthen pots they used
daily in the village or the stools they sat on. It was like taking an American
visitor to an African city to a hamburger or blue jeans museum to entertain
them. Maya was now helping me understand my confused experiences.
“You have to know who you are first and foremost to be able to relate to
others,” Maya said. Knowing who you are helps you make the right choices.
That knowledge will govern your relationships and what you will accept, do,
or not do.
“Know who you are. Who are you?” Maya asked. We just sat there waiting
until her silence instructed us to answer her.
“To go back and make your marriage work, you have to know who you are.
To be in any relationship, you have to know who you are. Who are you?” she
asked again and looked at James. James looked at his glass of water. Julie looked
are her feet and I looked at Maya, but my mind was trying to figure out who I
was. Maya was quiet and James, the leader, spoke out, “I am a black man living
in America trying to put food on the table for my family.”
Deep down I knew that was not what Maya was trying to pull out from us,
but I, too, was at a loss of who I really was. I was a hard working, loving black
woman who was taking care of her job and family. I was happy and could pay
my bills. Now I was sounding like one of those personal ads on the Internet.
I wished I could sneak away and print a good one and tell Maya that was who
I was. The bottom line was I did not know who I was and neither did Julie
or James. We were all successful adults living the American dream but still
unfulfilled. We defined ourselves based on what society defined for people
but not based on core spiritual concepts.
“Maybe it is time you started dreaming your own dreams.” I told you this
woman is a psychic; she always says what is on my mind.
When you do not know who you are, you live the life that is presented to
you by whoever is most convincing. You have to understand that you are a spirit
in a physical cocoon. A cocoon that is very demanding and needs attention
twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That demand is so powerful that
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it overshadows the spirit because the spirit is gentle and calm and all-knowing.
The noise in our lives and the hectic schedule makes it difficult for us to listen
to the silent voice of the spirit. However, we listen to the voice of everyone else
and react to them based on the button or desire in us that is being stimulated
at that time.
My simple mind was beginning to wonder what this had to do with Julie
and James’ marriage, but this was good stuff anyway. Many roads lead to the
same farm.
Knowledge that we are spiritual beings allows us to figure out how to
nurture the spirit. For example, knowledge that you are a physical body allows
you to figure out how to nurture that physical body. We do this by such
things as eating, sleeping, exercise, massage, sex, and entertainment to create
homeostasis in our bodies and relationships. While some of these physical
activities do create balance leading to awareness and receptivity to spiritual
realms, the spirit has its own needs that would create spiritual equilibrium.
Once we recognized the existence of our spirit body, we can now learn how to
attune to it.
Attunement to our spiritual self will consequently lead to more balance,
calmness, clarity of purpose, and a better appreciation of nature. With this
awareness, cleansing and balance of the physical person affects the person
within, which is your inner self.
“Who are you, Julie?” Maya asked. Julie had not spoken for hours, so she
sipped water before answering to quench her parched mouth.
“I am a hard working Christian mother, and…and…” she hesitated, “and
a wife.” She said wife so quietly you had to be listening to hear. She was not
sure if she would be a wife for much longer.
“I am not going to tell you who you should be, but I’ll tell you how you can
begin finding out who you are or who you believe you are. That knowledge will
help you in all you do as you would not do that which you are not and hence can
succeed tremendously in that which you are. You have limited time on earth to
be everything and nothing,” Maya told us.
Know Thyself
When I was about seven or eight years old, I came home from school with
my dress all rolled up and tucked into my panties because I had been playing
handball. I had been so overjoyed when the bell rang to go home that I forgot to
release my dress. In those days, girls were not permitted to wear shorts, so girls
were prone to tearing up the hem of their uniform dresses when running to
catch the ball. So they rolled their hem into their pants. My mom looked at me
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and asked why in goodness’s name I was dressed like that. For the first time my
eyes were opened and I saw my skinny long legs sticking out inappropriately.
Fear of being disciplined overcame me, but fear of the consequences of not
telling the truth overruled, so I told her all the girls at school were doing
that so I did it too. She looked at me sternly and said, “Never come into this
house again and say you did something just because everyone else was doing
it. I will punish you for that only. You have to do what is correct and not
because everybody else is doing it. Think for yourself.” She did not whip my
tiny behind. Sometimes you just wished you were whipped because realizing
you disappointed someone you loved and someone who believed in you could
make you wish for punishment. I do not ever remember her whipping me, but
I remembered that counsel my whole life. That day I started being my own
person and learning how others influenced me.
While sitting with Maya that incident hit my mind and I realized I had
from then on began formulating who I was. I started thinking before following
the persistent crowd and schoolmates, as I had to come home and report to my
vigilant disciplinarian parents.
“What I can tell you is this,” Maya motioned me for more water in her
glass and continued talking, “start by trying to have an idea of the things you
will do or not do, no matter the consequences. It will be like your personal
constitution.”
Every nation or business has a statement defining what they are and
what they do. They try hard to align with this mission statement. A good
relationship should have one also. So then I saw how the statement “I will
not follow the crowd just because everyone else is doing it” was a line on the
“Personal Constitution of Mariyah.”
Along the way in my dating life I had dated a man called Storm who was
like a little boy in a grown man’s body. He gave me a run for my emotional
budget; he threw tantrums, withdrew, then sucked me in and withdrew again.
Times he got me so confused I thought I was drunk and my hair was falling out
without anyone pulling on it. He liked to start arguments and because I was
not given to arguments I was always left confused and bewildered; at times I
ended up not knowing what we were arguing about anymore. So I was always
beaten up in arguments with him, especially because I was always trying to
argue fairly and lovingly.
One day he started another argument and I could not sneak out of it nor
make sense of what he was saying to me. All of a sudden with his constant
badgering, my mind kind of flipped. That was when my secondary school days
kicked in and I found myself back as a member of the prestigious Debating
Club. I started arguing with him but at a level that I knew well and by the
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time we were through, I had belittled this man so much he looked like an idiot
and an efulefu to me. He could not answer basic questions or substantiate his
points, nor make constructive sentences when cornered. I had totally flattened
him. How then could I bear to let an idiot or a stupid man touch or kiss me?
The pedestal I had put him on crumbled. I never argued with him or another
man from that day on. I found other ways to manage my relationships without
stooping or being overbearing. On my Personal Constitution was the fact that
I will not get into deep arguments with the man in my life since I did not have
a handle on the methodology of a “lover’s quarrel,” and the end results were
never healthy even if I won. I could see how Maya’s concept of knowing who
you are made some sense.
“Women are so beautiful. When Mariyah takes me to the mall I see them
everywhere with their long beautiful hair and braids,” Maya was smiling as she
spoke. Oh boy, I wondered, what is she going to say next?
“Just look at the way they dress and the beautiful jewelry adorning every
part of their body. It makes it hard for a man to choose just one woman to be
with.” I was sincerely hoping Maya was not going to say it was okay for Julie to
cheat on her husband just because there are so many handsome and rich men
out there. Julie and I bowed our heads in anticipation of her moral axe.
“There is no way a man is not going to have more than one girlfriend if he
does not have a personal code of ethics to live by,” Maya continued. Whoop,
that was close! I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew it was a good time to be a man
with so many gorgeous women, but I also knew that players were not gender
specific.
“If you just watch the animals on nature channels, you will realize that sex
is as natural as defecating, so it is no big deal to a lot of men. But women are
more spiritual than men because they are the direct co-creators with God, so
sex to them means more than to men.” Now I was getting more interested and
I could see James and Julie were too, by the spark in their eyes.
“Women might not realize it, but they are more in touch with the One
Source because of their invisible connection with Mother Earth. A woman who
is spiritually elevated and has a moral code of ethics or personal constitution
can handle sexual relationships better as she is able to differentiate lust sex,
mating sex, healing sex, creative sex, physical sex, and knowing sex.” Maya
Sophia blew my mind away.
One thing I’ve struggled to have all my life is common sense. My mom
used to look at our errors, shake her head, and say, “All you kids have is book
sense; you do not have common sense, develop common sense.” I could now
say I did not have “sex sense” after listening to Maya. How come nobody told
me all of this before I started dating and having my sweet little heart and
emotions messed up?
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“When you know who you are,” Maya continued, “you do not just indulge
in relationships because the women or the men look good or have money. And
if you do, you understand what you are doing so you do not lose your mind
and energy.”
I wondered if she was speaking from experience. After all, misery loves
company. Being the queen, she must have been the one who broke men’s hearts
anyway.
“But Maya—” Did Julie finally wake up? I was glad she had relaxed
enough to start talking on her own. “How do I know if these rules I am
making are the correct ones? Nobody every talked to me like you are talking.
This is some deep stuff and I doubt my girlfriends and female family members
know all of this.”
“Very good question, ma pikin.” Maya beamed. “I knew sooner or later you
will start seeing what I am trying to say and not just thinking about it.”
“Yes, Maya. I did not know there are so many types of sex out there.” It was
past midnight but I was wired and ready to listen to this village sex theory.
“Mariyah, just because you do not know there is an angel sitting next to
you right now does not mean he is not there.” Maya looked past my head.
“Don’t try to spook me out, Maya. I did not know all this stuff and I
thought angels come only when you need them; they don’t just hang out with
you,” I retorted.
“Then maybe you need one right now,” Maya responded. Either she did not
want to get off her advice track to us or she was just putting me on. I decided
not to argue; I would listen well and then digest all this information later.
“He who has ears will hear what I am saying,” Maya advised. I made a
mental note to add to my personal constitution: “It is more blessed to listen
than to talk.”
“Very good question, Julie.” Maya smiled encouragingly at Julie. “You
have all that knowledge within you; you just need to stimulate and waken it
up and then be conscious of it.” I was already getting exhausted listening to
what I had to do.
“That sounds like a lot of work to me,” James protested.
“It is at first just because you have lost your way in darkness and are now
trying to get back to the light. Even the first contact with light could blind
you. So you have to become a baby again and do it in baby steps. Once you
get the hang of it you will be running around, in fact flying, as it becomes all
so easy.”
“I already have so much work and responsibilities in my company and at
home,” James complained. Me too, I thought.
“This knowledge of self and your values will make all those responsibilities
seamless and joyful. You will find the ‘ joy’ in this ‘ journey’ of life everyday.”
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I mentally listed some of the things I had to do, like work, clean, laundry,
iron, car maintenance, home maintenance, prepare lessons for seminars, take
care of family and friends, and study for my certification classes just to name a
few. The last thing I wanted to do was to start reading more books on all this
knowing myself stuff and developing this personal constitution. As if reading
my thoughts again, Maya said, “You already have that knowledge in you, like
I said. People and books can only try to teach you how to tap into it. You have
to do the work yourself. God can say there is a job downtown for you, but you
have to do the leg work by getting your resume and going to interview for the
job even though the job is already yours. On the spiritual plane, the deed is
already done, but for it to materialize on the physical plane you have to use
your physical body to reach out and take it from God’s hand.
“When you say ‘God willing,’ or by ‘God’s grace this and this is going to
happen,’ and then sit and wait for some benevolent spirit to show up at your
door and pick you up and put you on a desk with a job, or touch you and you
lose tens of pounds, you are doing God an injustice because He promised you
all of that a long, long time ago. Grace and all that are yours but it requires
a partnership; He does not walk around here the way you imagine. You
have to do that for Him to accomplish whatever mission that partnership
is working on at that point in time. It is already yours but you have to reach
out and take it.”
As a kid, my father made me ask for stuff from him. While in boarding
school, he made me defend my budget like the ministers of government did
before the president of the country. He used to cut all my requirements to
sometimes less than half what I had budgeted. I thought that was cruel
because I figured he was supposed to read my mind and do it. Besides, he knew
I needed money for sundries and snacks, so why did I have to ask him? Once I
wanted beignets and the beignets seller was carrying her basin of beignets and
singing “Fine beignets are going by,” just like an ice cream truck will jingle for
kids. I called for dad and he came outside the house, retrieved a quarter from
his pocket, and that would have gotten me two large tasty beignets.
“Call the beignets lady,” I said to him. He asked me to call the beignets
lady myself. I was expecting him to call unto the lady to come by our door; I
thought it was beneath me to shout out to the lady. My father said, “If you want
the beignets, you call the beignets lady. I have the money.”
I wanted him to call on to her and he refused. I anxiously watched the
lady carry the delicious basin of beignets and round the corner and disappear
behind some houses. I busted out into loud crying. My father took a cane and
whopped my behind.
“If you want something, you ask for it,” he said to me.
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I always remembered this incident as if it happened yesterday and can
almost see the sunshine and hear the lady’s voice. I had wondered why I could
not get it out of my mind. My problem was not the whipping, it was the fact
that I could not ask for myself what I wanted.
I struggled with asking friends and family for anything all my life. Now
Maya reminded me that God had the quarter always ready in His pocket; all
I had to do was call out to the vendors and He will pay for it. “Ask and it will
be given unto you.”
I remembered walking out on relationships because I supposed the
men should have known what I wanted; besides, I thought at their age and
experience they should know the basic needs of a woman. I did not know that
only God can read my mind.
I could see this advice from Maya was not only for Julie and James, the
married couple, but also for me, the single woman, and I was now wishing
Rose, Angie, and Solace were here. When you find something good, you want
to share with your good friends. I made a mental note to explain to them as
best as I could what Maya was sharing with us now.
“You start to awaken that knowledge by making a choice to,” Maya explained.
“You make a conscious decision to awaken your spiritual self, the true you, and
to dwell always on that level.” Here again Maya was reintroducing what I now
called the “choice principle.”
“Be very clear on your intentions. Don’t worry about the details of how
to get to that spiritual level. Remember, it is already yours and your spiritual
partner God knows all the routes to take you there.”
I imagined going home from work to find an accident on the beltway; I
always made sure I knew all the major and back roads to my home. God knows
all the roads to your goals; sometimes the shortest possible route is used.
Sometimes He uses the longest routes. You might sulk when it is taking too
long but in the final analysis you realize it was the right way.
“Setting the intention to do something sends a clear message to the
Universe, the Cosmic, or God that you are ready and the help will come and
someone like me will be talking to you. I believe deep down somewhere one of
you asked for help to understanding your relationship sagas and God sent me
here,” Maya continued.
Once I was doing research on a topic and could not find much information
in the libraries. Then one day I was on the subway train and found a magazine
tucked between the wall and my seat. It had a six page article on the topic. Then
a few days later, I met an old man at a seminar and happened to just be making
conversation while waiting for the seminar to start and before I realized it, we
were discussing this topic and he was telling me things no book could have
taught me just like Maya was now doing. All I know is that I really wanted
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the information badly and I had made a sincere prayer for help. God had the
quarters to pay for the information. I also realized now that I was looking for
information from books and my so-called “reputable sources” were men. God’s
reputable sources were totally different from those of men. So just set the
intentions, or get the vision or goal. Do something. Stimulate this partnership,
call the beignets lady, and get that quarter out of God’s hands.
“You have to learn to be still, and I don’t just mean sitting still like you are
doing right now listening to me. Julie has to listen to the Julie within. James has
to listen to the James within, and Mariyah has to listen to the Mariyah within.
Your inner self does not lie. Th e Master within is your guide. By connecting
to your inner self, you connect to your Source, or God or whatever you call it.
I was brought up to recognize ‘Knew Ngong’ the God of the Universe. He/She
dwells in you. If you cannot listen to yourself, you cannot listen to a man or
woman, husband, wife, child, or God Himself.”
“How do I start to do that?” James asked anxiously. I could feel his need: a
black man in America trying to make it. All else was now obviously vanity. He
had accumulated all this wealth and was still hungry for something else but did
not know what. It is like when you are there with your lover but you still miss
them. Something is missing but you do not know what. Solace dabbled in sex,
food, sculpturing a beautiful body, and men. I dabbled in working long hours
and clothing. Julie dabbled in cheating to get a baby to save her marriage and
material belongings. Angie made babies; Rose wanted more knowledge with
two PhDs, a JD, and certifications galore but none of this hit the spot for us.
It was well into the wee hours of the morning and none of us were ready
for sleep. Just in a few hours of listening to Maya Sophia, I felt a shift in my
consciousness and I was not the same Mariyah who had been eating ice cream
and tearing up with Julie over “ah huga huga.”
“My son, it is now late and we all need sleep, but since I see you are all
interested, we will have to continue this discussion after breakfast. Julie, call
Angie tomorrow and ask her to keep Micah. I do not have long to be with
you so I’ll bless you all before I go back, as you have now asked for a true
blessing.”
“Maya,” I said, “I was hoping to call Angie, Rose, and Solace to share in
this discussion.”
“Mariyah,” she smiled, “bless you, my daughter. Don’t ever lose your giving
spirit. Your wish to share with your friends is honorable. Let them come in the
evening as we are all at different stages of our evolution.”
I was trying to decide who will sleep in which bedroom when Maya said,
“Go bring some comforters; we all shall sleep here.” Maya and Julie each took
a couch and James and I folded on the floor, no questions asked.
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“Let the candle burn itself out,” Maya said to me, “and as you all fall asleep,
focus on your breathing, say your prayers, ask your inner self who you are,
and ask God to help you begin to get in touch with Self so you really begin to
know yourself.”
As I laid down to sleep, for the first time in a long time I felt the aura of a
family. There was love, comfort, joy, peace, and security in that room that night.
I just knew I was alright, everything would be alright. I had the power in me
and could feel it. I think I had wanted this for a long time; my cry was heard
and help was now on the way. I made a promise to myself to listen intently to
Maya and learn all I could. I smiled as I wondered if it was to my inner self
that I had made the promise to. Just like learning to ride a bike, I was going to
keep trying until it became seamless.
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Chapter 12
Rose
Chapter 2
A crab does not know there are two kinds of water until it gets into hot water. (African proverb)
Love Under the Kola Nut Tree: What city moms didn’t tell you about creating fulfilling relationship
“What’s up?” I asked into the receiver after seeing Rose’s number on the caller ID.
“Micah has been hit by a car and he is in surgery at Pierre Memorial
Hospital,” Rose breathlessly responded. I immediately felt the urgency of
her words.
Now, one thing to know about Rose, if she reacts to anything you better
jump. If there is a human being on earth I have met that controls her emotions,
it is my friend and cousin Rose. If there were such a thing, she’d have a PhD in Emotion Control.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Listen, Niet, meet me at the hospital,” and she hung up the phone. I
gasped. An explanation from her would apparently have to wait. My aunt who
happened to be visiting from Africa, aunty Maya Sophia, must have heard the
tension in my voice, for she immediately rushed over to me.
Before I continue, I should set the foundation for you. This story is really
about my aunty Maya Sophia and what she taught my friends and me about
relationships, nature, and energy. If Micah had not been hit by Mrs. Williams’
car, I doubt we would have had a story to tell. But I now know there are no
coincidences.
“If something has happened to a family member back home, just tell me.
If you hide anything from me I’ll die,” Maya Sophia proclaimed to me and
broke into sobs.
Maya might as well have been a psychic. In the eleven months she has
stayed with me, I came to learn there is much about nature that I cannot
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explain. And just because I cannot explain it does not mean that it is not there
or it does not happen. Maya and my father are cousins; however, don’t try to
draw family trees when it comes to Africans, as you don’t have enough paper
width. Cousins are like soapy ropes that go on and on and on. For example,
Rose and I believed we were cousins until I came to America and learned to
be individualistic and trace family trees. I then discovered we were not blood
cousins but grew up together as such. Th at knowledge, however, did not change
the relationship we had established since childhood.
How could I tell Maya Sophia that Micah had been hit by a car? I believed
one of the main reasons she had stayed in the U.S. so long was because she
had Micah, Taylor, and Kellie to hang out with once everyone left for work.
She hated the fact that we closed the door on her and stayed at our jobs all day
and she could not even stroll in the neighborhood for fear of what she saw on
TV. Micah loved her and she loved Micah and doted on him. A grandparent’s
love is different and special, and she knew how to love even though she never
uttered the word love.
Hearing Micah was at the hospital was hard enough for me, but telling
Maya Sophia was even harder. I must have looked deeply saddened as she
started that dance that only African mothers can do. She took one step, stood
still, and then started tapping her right foot on the floor while undulating her
torso gently.
“I can’t be in a strange land if someone has died back home,” she pleaded.
I was not ready for this today.
“Maya,” I said, “it is Micah,” but before I could complete my sentence she
screamed.
“He will be okay,” I consoled myself. “He is at the hospital and we have to
meet Rose and his parents there.”
“If something happens to my grandson,” she wept, “you will bury me in
America; you will bury me in America.” She ran into her bedroom, put on her
sandals, changed her head scarf, and charged for the door.
No matter what happened, Maya Sophia could never be buried anywhere
except on a particular plot of land, as she is the queen. She is the female
equivalent to the chief and if you know a little bit about the African culture,
you know how hard it has been for me hosting her. But was her visit really what
she originally told me it was? I was to find out otherwise later.
I would like to tell you I am a cautious driver everyday, but I would be
lying, for on this day I had two eyes, literally. I had one eye on the road ahead
and one eye scanning the rear view mirror and the environs for “crabs” with
red and blue tops.
Love Under the Kola Nut Tree
9
In the emergency room, Angie, Julie, James, and Rose anxiously waited.
Julie would sit down, and then stand up at the sound of any approaching feet,
hoping it was a nurse or doctor with news for them. James came over and put
his arms around his wife and felt her body shake within his hold. They silently
prayed together for their son. James had a very uneasy feeling in his stomach,
a feeling he had learned to recognize after the time his best friend was in a
fatal accident in graduate school. He had that same feeling hours before he
received the phone call about the accident. That loss led him into a two year
depression. The feeling did not come often, but he knew to start praying when
it did. To him it was a sign of tough times ahead. Right now that sickening
feeling haunted him. He knew if he lost Micah he would lose the will to live,
and he certainly couldn’t handle the depression again.
Micah was their only child and it had taken them three years to get
pregnant. At first they were not serious about getting pregnant, but when
they decided to, it was hard for Julie to conceive. They had nearly settled into
the fact that a baby was not in their future when Julie got pregnant. Micah was
their miracle baby.
“Please, God, save my son, my only begotten son,” James prayed. His
prayer interrupted when Dr. Arthur Morgan walked briskly towards him.
Before he could ask how Micah was doing, Dr. Morgan said, “We need another
sample of your blood right away, Mr. Walker.”
“But,” James began, “I just gave some blood a few minutes ago. Is my son
dying? Why does he need so much blood?”
“Yes, I know you just gave blood,” Dr. Morgan answered, “but we just need
another sample to be doubly sure.”
“I am the boy’s dad, for God’s sake! Why do you need to test my blood
before giving it to my bleeding son?” James argued. Pierre Memorial hospital
was one of the best hospitals in the area, so James couldn’t fathom a mistake.
Why would they mess up my fi rst blood sample? James wondered. He hoped they
had not given his son the wrong blood type from another person. He had heard
in the news and read on the Internet that hospitals these days were making lots
of mistakes. If so, this hospital would be hearing from him and his lawyers.
Was Micah going to make it? His heart beat fast, but before he could ask
about his son, Dr. Morgan disappeared back into surgery room 3 and a lab
technician led him away through double doors to prick his vein again.
In the OR, Dr. Morgan discussed the situation with Dr. Pat Naor, Dr.
Moris Genesis, and two residents. Micah’s left leg was broken, his right arm
sprained, and he had a severe concussion. So far he had lost a lot of blood.
“Micah’s blood is type O. The blood type taken from his dad was AB,”
Dr. Morgan reminded them. “Micah is not adopted and from all we learned
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in medical school and practice, we know James Walker cannot possibly be
Micah’s dad.” Dr. Morgan determined.
Since Micah’s blood type was rare, the immediate donors, who were luckily
present, had to be blood-related parents. However, based on the report given
by the lab technicians, James was not a match for Micah’s blood.
“So the lab technicians may have made a mistake, the first they have made
in years. Nevertheless, if it is indeed a mistake, it could cost little Micah his
life, as time is of the essence here,” Dr. Pat Naor stated, checking Micah’s blood
pressure again.
Micah’s blood pressure was dropping while that of his father was rising.
Beads of sweat dampened James’ brow while Julie paced the waiting room
talking to herself. Dr. Morgan had a feeling if he lost the boy, they might have
another emergency room situation with the dad.
“What about the mom?” Dr. Genesis inquired. “What blood type is she?”
“The father was here first, so we sent him to the lab immediately. We
should get the mother’s blood type in a few minutes. We don’t need her blood
anymore anyway, but we need to figure out if this boy belongs to them,” Dr.
Morgan explained. He had already ordered blood from the hospital blood
bank. Memories of his past flashed through his mind. He, too, had a sense of
foreboding.
Nurse Janet had worked by Dr. Morgan’s side for years. She understood
him more than anyone else. Not even Dr. Morgan’s wife had the type of
understanding Nurse Janet had of Dr. Morgan. It was almost like she could
read his mind, eyes, body language, and anticipate his every move. They were
like seasoned poker partners. She could predict all his quirks, down to his
habit of humming under his breath while doing surgery.
Over the years she had come to know the different tunes and what they
meant as far as the difficulty of the emergency surgery they were performing.
He would give instructions, explain the procedure, ask for equipment, and
immediately switch back to a hum. Today he was humming a tune she had
come to realize meant life or death for the patient. But on this day he kept
repeating the chorus over and over and she had a strange feeling the life and
death was not only for this kid who lay unconscious under the skillful tiny
fingers of Dr. Morgan.
Just like MaryAnn, Dr. Morgan’s wife, had noted that his head was
oversized for his body, Nurse Janet had noted that Dr. Arthur Morgan’s
thumbs were oversized compared to his fingers. They were, however, perfectly
suited for medical manipulations. One such example was that time in an
African village where, to stop a woman that had miscarried from bleeding to
death when nothing else would help, he manually massaged her cervix with
Love Under the Kola Nut Tree
11
his tiny hands to initiate clotting. This was not your traditional Western
doctor. In desperate situations he pulled out of his healing hat techniques he
learned in the South American, Asian, African, and Native Indian villages.
He got into trouble many times with the hospital administration for some
of the techniques he used, but he had yet to lose a patient because of those
unconventional methods.
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Chapter 3
Dr. Arthur Morgan
Dr. Arthur Morgan was born in the African village of Malah. His father
was fifty-five years old and his mother forty-five years old at the time of his
birth. He was their retirement baby. His parents were not expecting a child
and when his mother Ruth Morgan got pregnant, they believed he was a gift
from God for their steadfastness and devotion to Him. He was their only child.
His father Dr. Paul Morgan was a Christian missionary who had been sent to
preach the Bible to these so-called poor atheist villagers to whom salvation was
supposedly denied just because they had never heard the name Jesus.
Young Arthur was enrolled in the local daycare and eventually attended
elementary school. He was tutored by his mother and other missionaries.
He got the best education in an environment where there were very little
distractions and progressed way ahead of his grade. He was an exceptionally
gifted student and excelled at all he did. At age eleven when most village kids
went to the mission boarding school, he was quickly sent to study in the United
States where he eventually went to medical school.
By age twenty-four he was already practicing medicine. His vacations to
Africa to see his parents had enabled him to practice medicine in the local
clinics and also learn unorthodox procedures which he from time to time used
now that he was well established in America.
After medical school he joined Doctors on the Move, a non-profit
organization for those in the medical field. They traveled around the world
healing and educating those less privileged. By age thirty-one he was ready to
set up his own practice in the U.S. He opened his office at Pierre Memorial
Hospital where he also worked as an emergency room doctor and taught at the
medical university. That was where Julie, James, and Micah Walker met him
on that preordained fateful day.
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13
One thing that always troubled Dr. Morgan’s mind were some stories his
father told him about his experiences in the village of Malah. One story in
particular had remained on his mind…
“The women in this tribe had all the power in the land.” Dr. Paul Morgan
retold the events to his son. “They could control the winds, the rains, and talk
to the trees and cattle.”
“Dad, as a Christian, you know that is not possible,” young Arthur argued.
“Son, I know what I saw happen in Malah. I wish I could explain in
scientific terms.”
“Maybe you were hallucinating. You know Africa is a hot continent;
Malah, especially, is not far from the equatorial belt, Dad.”
Being a scientist, if things could not be reproduced in the laboratory or a
controlled environment, it was not true to him.
What the Morgans had been too educated to know was that the Malah
Villagers were scientists also. While Dr. Morgan used a man-made office for
his laboratory, the villagers used their natural environment as their laboratory.
While he used rulers, slide rules, and chemicals as his ingredients, the villagers
used all elements of nature—grass, stones, wind, water, earth, fire, and air—as
their ingredients.
The villagers would wake up in the morning and gaze at the rising sun
and give you the weather forecast for the day. They would examine the new
moon and tell you more women than men would die that month. They
would wrap a string around a man’s neck for measurement and give you the
dimensions of the rest of his body parts. They would point at a man’s chest
and know exactly what measure of herbs to give him. They would follow a
dog into the forest, watch the herbs it ate, and study these herbs for medicinal
value. A dog, they said, would only eat grass if it was sick and needed a cure.
They would send out thunder and lightening to warn and destroy and then
safely bring it back to source. They used animal fur to heal serious burns,
leaving no scars.
The beautiful symbiotic relationship the villagers shared with nature was
about to be compromised by “Civilization.” Because Civilization had outgrown
its Source, it also lost its sight. Thus it lost its way back to the Source. But it
did not know that because it believed the world revolved around it.
Civilized Dr. Paul Morgan came to teach the natives the Bible; he came to
teach the natives their very culture.
“The women were powerful but they let the men lead them and be the head
of the household. Then men did something awful and the women, using this
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Esther Lamnyam
strange power they possessed, herded all the men like cattle to prison,” Daddy
Morgan continued. “The king rule, but the queen had all the power.”
He showed his son pictures of the king and the queen. Even from the
pictures Arthur could see that the woman commanded presence and power.
But he also noticed a very loving demeanor about her. He felt like touching
her skin. From time to time he would look at that picture after his father died
and run his finger over the queen’s face.
“Why was he king then, instead of the queen; just sitting on the throne?”
Arthur wanted to know.
“They believed that was the order of things. Man was the cocoon, and the
woman the spirit behind it all. She was the very essence of what man did and
accomplished,” Dr. Paul Morgan went on. “You see the trees, but you never talk
about the earth. Without the earth, there would be no trees.”
“These must have been some weak men to be led to jail by village women,”
Arthur retorted, finding this story by his dad foolish and unbelievable.
“No, the men were strong men. They were warriors and wrestlers. These
men put into today’s world would be envied, for they were well built and
muscular. If you take away the power of the earth, the trees would die a natural
death. There is a lot in the dirt that we don’t see.”
“Were the women carrying weapons?” Arthur pretended to believe his dad
for his father’s sake. Something about the story evoked emotion, but Arthur
fumbled to put the pieces together.
“No, the women were carrying eggs,” Daddy Morgan explained.
“Eggs?” My dad is getting too old and I am sure he is losing his mind. Arthur
made a mental note to have his dad checked at the hospital.
“Yes eggs, and the eggs were spinning in the women’s hands and they were
all chanting.”
“And the men did not break those eggs or eat them?”
“It was at one of the inter-village wrestling matches and all the men were
there. This was like the Super Bowl of wrestling. Wrestling in this village was
everything to the men. These men could control their muscles so well they
could get any muscle in their body to dance for the crowd. You should have
heard the drums. Intoxicating…”
“And what happened? Who won the match?” Arthur reflected on his days
in Malah when wrestling in this village was not only a sport, but was also used
for rituals and initiation of young men into manhood.
From when Malah boys could crawl, they were also taught wrestling
moves. They became so good they even picked up dance moves from animals
like cats, monkeys, tigers, lions, leopards, and snakes. It was amazing how
much one can learn from animals if given respect. For example, before he got
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15
married, Arthur dated so many women his friends were jealous. They could
not understand how a diminutive man like him could get so many women. And
not just any women. These were smart, beautiful, and successful women. He
had a little orange book where he numbered all his conquests, sexual styles,
and positioned used. When asked by his friends what techniques he used to
captivate so many beautiful women, he would jokingly say, “I learned that move
from the rooster; or the grasshopper thought me that.” Of course everyone
thought he was kidding. However, Dr. Arthur Morgan meant what he said,
but a person needed to truly have ears to hear him.
Before Arthur Morgan’s father died, he explained to his son why Arthur
had to get married and the spiritual benefits of marriage. While he learned a
lot from the Bible, Dr. Paul Morgan acknowledged he learned the practical
application of these biblical stories from Malah, which shadowed an Old
Testament-like culture.
“If you want to achieve certain things in life, you have to find the right
woman and marry her. She would bring you all the success you need. Drop her
without merit after you are successful and it is only a matter of time before you
are back to square one,” Reverend Dr. Paul Morgan once warned his son.
“The men of Malah were led to jail and the doors slammed on them,”
Reverend Morgan continued his story about Malah.
“Really?” Arthur asked, again doubting his dad.
“Shortly after that, I left the Malah village, as with the men in jail the
energy seemed to have changed and the women were getting hostile. I learned
things in Malah that no book could teach me.” Daddy Morgan elaborated on
the spiritual practices he learned from the village, thus initiating his son into
the spiritual practices he once experienced.
Dr. Paul Morgan also stole things from Malah which he could not write
in any book. When he figured out how the women wielded power, he broke
his own Christian doctrines to steal this knowledge. He left Malah running.
What he took from Malah destroyed the power that women held and hence
the society, families, and the threads holding relationships together. The
people started walking in darkness. Women became weak and men fathered
kids and abandoned them. Distraught women destroyed men unconsciously
and men destroyed families unconsciously. Men distrusted women and
women distrusted men. Laws made to safeguard the family instead created
increased insecurity, hence more separation. Eventually men swore off
marriage. Women stole kids from their fathers and fathers stole kids from
their wives, all of this legally.
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Esther Lamnyam
This loss of power and binding energy by woman propagated and
replicated around the world. Millions of women were single and millions of
men were single. They were like parallel lines—all going in the same direction,
hardly to meet anywhere. If they did cross paths, the magical threads that
held relationships together had been taken away so these relationships
eventually crumbled. Millions of books and recipes were written to remedy
this breakdown, but families were still breaking up and kids were controlling
adults. Because parents had lost the knowledge of whom they were and
what they knew, they were ready for any new recipe. In desperation, many
well meaning new recipes were made; but the potpourri of ideas ended up
convoluting the relationships more.
Unbeknownst to me, Maya Sophia, the queen of Malah, had come back to
get this power and hand it back to the women. I was to be reeducated. I was
about to get an education on the laws of nature that govern relationships.
This is the story of what my village queen aunt taught me about nature and
relationships that city mothers did not.
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