#This is Us – This is Me

Who will tell whether one happy moment of love or the joy of breathing or walking on a bright morning and smelling the fresh air, is not worth all the suffering and effort which life implies…

~Erich Fromm

Last nights episode of This is Us hit me to the core. I have been a fan of the show since it’s inception, not only because the writing is so beautifully woven but I was particularly impressed at how perfectly they captured the personality and stressors of being a gifted black male in a white world. Randall reminds me so much of my own son and although I am not a white woman, as a sole parent, I can relate to her character as as a mother mostly raising her children on her own.

This episode brought back the deep sadness that I felt as the caretaker for my own mother. The hospice nurse coming to let us know that she had 48 hours left with us and the goodbyes we had to say as we stood sobbing by her side. It was the most heart wrenchingly beautiful moments I’ve ever experienced. At the age of 35, in my first trimester, carrying my first born in my womb I wished time would stop in that moment and raise her up just to see me through my pregnancy. I carried so much grief for so long afterwards, not just for myself but for my unborn child who would never know how it felt to have a loving, nurturing grandmother hug and kiss them. So of course my tears flowed during the goodbye scene, both affirming the end of this part of her journey and experiencing the writers vision of a soul’s transition from this life to the spirit world. I saw myself in the only daughter, the last one to say goodbye moments before she took her last breath. I saw my brothers, I saw my Godmother, her best friend letting her know it was okay to go and that she’d take over the nurturing.

I saw the sadness, the pain and the peace.

I saw the joy when Rebecca was finally reunited with her true love.

There was so much that reminded me of my own mother’s transition, yet what hit me the most was how Rebecca questioned if she had done enough as a mother. The what ifs that I often feel especially when my children are struggling with school and life. The questioning and guilt I feel when I leave them alone or with a caregiver because I just need some time away from all of the heavy responsibilities of giving and mothering. I adore my children and I wouldn’t have it any other way -well, maybe I would have a regular housekeeper! – raising them on my own, but I think society places such a burden on the custodial parent regardless of why the other parent is absent from parenting.

I am thankful that I have loved ones who remind me that I am a loving mother, and that I am doing the best I can with my children. I remind myself of how much I’ve sacrificed to provide for and support them. I think one thing the writer didn’t get right is that our loved ones continue to show up for us, care for us, help us and nurture us even after they transitioned. I’m sure I will do the same for my children and loved ones when I transition.

And because I have several decades of healthy life remaining in this lifetime, I am committed to incorporate #rest into my daily living so that I won’t have to wait until my transition to experience true rest.

Love,

Toni

bit.ly/tonilovemerch

Not One – Original poetry

Not One

(For the Million Mothers March)


Not mine son
Not mine
Not my son
Not my brother nephew or current lover
Not my neighbor cousin or future husband
Not mine
Not hers
Not anybody’s
Son
I am not saying no more
I am saying not ONE


We with the millions of ancestors behind us
Forge a force you will feel into centuries
Your generations will not be safe
Your land will not be prosperous
Your wealth will not sustain you
Your privilege will not save you
We are millions today plus millions from centuries before u
Far more than your eyes can see
We gather together seen and unseen
When mothers pray it goes straight to heaven
Rest assured and be forewarned
There will be a price for your descendants to pay
If you ever look at my son in a disrespectful, condescending or threatening way
We collectively are not playing with you today
No more

Not one

Not

One

Son

~ From “Toni’s Room

(c) Toni Love Publishing

The Day I Left God – Performance Poetry with Sistahs Laying Down Hands, Mother’s Day 2018

Mother’s Day is always bittersweet for me. I know as a Mother that there is pressure to smile and gush at the numerous mother’s day wishes, cards and love from my kids, but even after seventeen years, I still awaken with a small void knowing I can only speak the sentiment to my own mom, and seek to hear her respond in soft whispers of the wind.

When I was asked to collaborate with the phenomenal drummers and artists Sistahs Laying Down Hands for Mother’s Day I immediately said yes. Every performance together has been a gift to me and as I tapped into my intuition I knew that I needed to be in that space on that day, I just didn’t know why. I chose to recite a poem I wrote as part of my grief work after my mother transitioned. I was in my first trimester and I thought God to be so cruel to take my mother when I was first becoming a mother. Writing helped me come to terms with the loss and my faith and I recite this poem to help other motherless children feel that it’s okay to speak the pain of grief and release it.

I didn’t know that at the dawn of Mother’s Day this year I would be admitting my first-born to the hospital after spending hours in the emergency room. Everything in me wanted to cancel the performance but I had committed and my son told me “you should do it Mom, I know you’ll be good”. So with little sleep and a strained voice I sang and performed my poem surrounded by the healing energy of the drum. It was where I needed to be and I am grateful for the opportunity to receive the strength and the spiritual support through art.

My poem is about 5 minutes in, but you will want to watch from the beginning for a wonderful spoken word of remembrance of mothers and of course the powerful hands of the Sistahs Karen Smith and Miriama Koroma! You can search this blog for the words to the poem.

May you be continue to feel the nurturing of a mother’s love in spite of where she may or may not be in your life. Love comes in all forms. ~Toni Love

#loveistheanswer

 

Not One (New original poetry by Toni Love)

 

Mothers of Black Sons and all who support in solidarity are welcome to join us as we stand together United against racial injustice, police brutality and inner city violence. We need your collective voice, wisdom and support to effect change. Please come out Sunday, October 16th at 12noon. We will march from Broad and Cecil B Moore Avenue to 1401 JFK Boulevard, Philadelphia. In addition to being a poet, I am the mother of a young black male. I am honored to be on the program and will recite this piece as well as my poem “Born of Warriors” written after the #PhiladoCastille murder.

MOBS can be contacted via email at : millionmomsphilly@gmail.com. Please also donate as little or as much as you can to MOBS Go Fund Me which will help cover the cost of permits and travel to our state and US capitols. Gathering as one unit is an essential part of the healing process. I hope you come.

~Toni #loveistheanswer

Not One   

Not mine, son
Not mine

Not my son
Not my brother, nephew, uncle or current lover
Not my neighbor cousin or future husband

Not mine, not hers
Not anybody’s
Son

I am not saying “no more”
I am saying “not one”

We with the millions of ancestors behind us
Forge a force you will feel into centuries

Your gated communities will not be safe
Your land will not be prosperous
Your wealth will not sustain you
Your privilege will not save you

We are millions today plus millions from centuries before us
We are far more than your eyes can see

We gather together
Seen and unseen
When mothers pray
The heavens come forth to listen

So rest assured and be forewarned
There will be a price for your descendants to pay
If you ever look at our sons in a disrespectful way

We, collectively are not playing with you today

No more
Not one
Not
One
Son

(c) Toni Love Publishing

 

 

 

Blind Faith;heart lessons at a rest stop

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The kids look forward to our annual beach vacation all year. It’s an opportunity to get away from the day-to-day pressures and routine of school, home-life and chores and simply sleep, eat and play! I look forward to it as well. It’s the only week of the year that we are all home at the same time with no obligations and I am not the only one in the house they can go to for whatever they need. Here they have other adults and older cousins who can drive and are responsible enough to take them to the beach,the local recreation center or keep an eye on them at the house. It’s also a gift to spend quality time with my youngest brother, my god-daughter, nephews and their friends. So much laughter shared among us and I take the opportunity to inject some elder wisdom into our conversations when the subject permits. To have all of this goodness occur at the beach is the icing on the cake!

I plan and save all year. This year, right before our scheduled trip my largest client fell behind considerably on the payment of my monthly retainer. As a precaution I always keep a reserve in my savings but I reserve it for emergencies, and a vacation does not fall under that category. I thought for a minute about cancelling the beach trip but I knew how disappointed the kids would be and I was looking forward to and deserved a break before the school year began. I was angry and frustrated but I moved some money out of my savings, made sure the bills were paid and the fish was fed before I packed up the three of us, and prepared my mind for the six-hour drive ahead of me. Six hours with three anxious and excited kids, and I couldn’t stop worrying that this could be our last trip down here for a while. If my client couldn’t bounce back from their financial problems, could I manage until I found more work? I was supposed to be relaxing but I have to admit I was a little on edge and still wondering if I made the right choice to continue with the vacation.

At about the four-hour mark, my bladder insisted I pull over at the rest stop in Virginia. Stuckey’s is famous for their variety of nuts. Anything from fajita almonds to honey salt cashews; most travelers stop for their fresh pecans and peanuts. I walked in and was instantly reminded of my grandfather Jabez (Pop Pop we called him) known to bring a bag of fresh peanuts home every time he went south to visit his Southern Baptist church family. He grew up near Jimmy Carter’s family peanut farm and founded a Southern Baptist Church nearby Bainbridge, Georgia. I grabbed a few cans of cashews to snack on for the remainder of the trip, handed them to my daughter for safekeeping and hurried to the women’s bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom my daughter had both cans and a piece of wood shaped like a heart in her hands. She smiled and began to say as if reading my mind “don’t ask Mommy, just buy it..you have to trust me.” I gave her a look that translated into “what are you up to now, Janai and how much is it going to cost me?” I asked her if she could at least tell me the price. She wasn’t sure and again she said “Mommy, just buy it.” My daughter has such a kind heart. She is always giving or creating something to give to a friend or family member, usually at my expense. I love her compassion but it sometimes comes with a high price tag. I finally gave in figuring it must be important to her and I could always return it if it’s too expensive.

Somehow the woman at the register figured out what she was doing because she didn’t say the name of the item, just the price and smiled behind me at Janai. I had to chuckle and was relieved that it was under three dollars and not another high-priced souvenir. When I turned around to go to the car she ran in front of me saying “just wait a minute Mom, I have to do something, just wait.” and shooed me to the passenger side of the car. I still hadn’t a clue what she was doing until she gave me permission to open my car door and reveal her gift. I saw this beautifully painted heart hanging from my rear view mirror with the words “Mom, you are a blessing”. I had to hold back the tears. It’s a special moment when you feel that your children understand all of the strain, struggle and sacrifice you have to go through to make their lives more joyful and take the time to show you how much you’re appreciated. It’s a rare moment and I had to sit there a moment and take it all in before I grabbed the wheel and continued to drive two more hours to our destination.

Later that evening, as I sat back on the balcony with a glass of wine enjoying the sounds of the crashing waves heard from the nearby beach and children’s laughter coming from the pool below I thought about that moment at the rest stop. Not only was my daughter being her sweet thoughtful self, but maybe she was also being used to send me a message from a higher source. I know that there are often times in my life where I am fearful of taking a step and doing something because I can’t see the outcome and I don’t know what lies ahead for me. I want to know what I’m getting into. I don’t trust what I don’t see. Then I’m reminded of one of my favorite anonymous quotes. “God’s gifts put man’s best dreams to shame”. The blessings I often blindly receive are such a powerful statement of love that I never know they are coming. And they are always much more than I could ever have thought to ask for.

This was yet another reminder to trust the process and have faith that something greater is going to be revealed to me. All I could see in my daughter’s hand was a piece of carved wood, but when she was ready to present me with my gift I found it to be more beautiful than I could have ever imagined!

Encouraging Young Writers in Philadelphia Today

received_10209380157758316My father loved to read and wrote a multitude of songs and essays yet published only one song in his lifetime. Today in his memory I am excited to be hosting a fundraiser for Philly Youth March and Voice4Justice. The event featuring Grammy Nominee Ursula Rucker and the extraordinarily musical Monica McIntyre begins today at 3pm at Alma Mater, 7165 Germantown Avenue in Philadelphia. The suggested donation is $10 and children are free! Please come and encourage our young writers. And prepare to be blown away by the collaborations and energy in the room. 

Check out the Facebook event pageVoices for Justice Event for more details and I hope to see you there!

Peace and blessings and Happy Father’s day!

Toni Love #loveistheanswer

9-11 Emergency – Original Poetry

wpid-img_20150911_081424.jpg9-11 Emergency

This poem was written during a trip to New York City in 2009. As the taxi cab stopped in traffic I looked up and I was right in front of Engine 34. I felt the energy in the building and these words came to me…

Back in New York

and nothing is the same

I know it’s been more than ten years

I expected that a lot had changed

The taxi cab was shiny and new

No familiar ganja or curry scent lingering in the air

No arrogant driver to talk to

Either from fear of a bad review or the thick bulletproof shield

that assured there was no conversation to share

The streets were still dirty, the buildings still grey and stoic

Yet the soul of the City had changed and I almost couldn’t put my finger on it

Until I passed by Ladder 34

This is where the City lost its soul

All of the years I spent walking these streets riding in taxi cabs and liverys I had never passed this place

The building was so lifeless

The pain, the heartache washed the color from the red paint

The emotion felt just driving by in the cab almost made me faint

I wanted to stop the driver and run to the building to perform CPR

Jump-start the hearts and souls of the firefighters inside waiting for the next emergency

and praying to God that they are not called to another tower

And lose what’s left of the hope they cling to each and every hour

Sadness overwhelms me as I see the fighters from the past

running to get ready to save us from the blast

They never knew what hit us

why the towers were coming down

never thought twice about the danger that awaited them underground

Not knowing who was in danger

They didn’t hesitate to answer the call

All of our brave and dedicated servants showed up for us

I pray for the souls of them all

(c) M Tonita Austin aka Toni Love 3/30/2009

Welcome Home – Original Poetry

http://www.asa100.com/#/far-away-places/africa/africa018
The Massai in their Village. Photo by Scott Stulberg Photography

Welcome Home
                                                                                             written in  Bridgehampton, NY 6.27.15

Gray birds whisper through the trees

Ancestors swaying the leaves

Calling my name in threes

Tonita

Toni

Niiii-taaa
We are HERE
WE are here
We ARE here

and so should you be

here

present

listening

walking

breathing

feeling

touching

writing

connecting with us

We have wisdom to speak into you

Those chirps are a call to action

The leaves of soft swaying trees beckon you to come near

Those are drums in the distance

We are the Lenape, the Massai and Blackfoot

The soil moist beneath your feet is comfort for your journey

We are you

You are we

We are here

When you are here the sun beams and the clouds part because of your presence

This feels like home because you are home

Yemaya we call you

Oshun misses you

There is peace here

Come

Sit

Hear

Embrace

Inhale

Exhale

It is safe here

This is no coincidence

We have called you and you listened

Never forget us

Stay open

We need you to tell our stories

If you take the time to listen

We will always welcome you home

Although you may leave

We do not

We are here

(c) M Tonita Austin aka Toni Love

Thanks for visiting! Love, Toni

Arts and Artists Extravaganza Today! Voorhees NJ

2015 Arts and Artists Extravaganza
http://www.bit.ly/artsandauthors2015

Good Morning! Toni Love will be appearing at the 2015 Arts and Artist Extravaganza at The Mansion in Voorhees, NJ today! The event will take place from 4PM-8PM and there will be a showcase of the area’s finest artists and published authors. I am honored to be invited to share some of my poetry with the attendees. I will also have copies of my new CD “The Restoration” available before it is officially released to the public at my CD Release party on August 22nd. In addition, you can get Toni Love t-shirts and purchase tickets to the show! It’s a family friendly event and FREE for children under 10. Check out the link below for more information. I hope to see you out on this beautiful Sunday!

Click here for more information —->  2015 Arts and Artists Extravaganza

“Grief Waits” – Original Poetry by Toni Love

Grief Waits
Grief Waits

I read this original poem “Grief Waits” at The Collective All Artist Open Mic a few weeks ago at Rose Petals Cafe and Lounge and a few people asked me to post it. This was written a few weeks after my father transitioned, not for sympathy but to support the little girl inside yearning to tell her story. Not sure I’m finished with it, but here it is:

Grief Waits

She cries
Into makeup stained pillows when no one is awake
This single mother of two wants her own daddy back
But no time to be sad with taxi runs to baseball ballet and piano lessons
No chance to cry with the babies watching and counting on her strength
Even peaceful meditation is interrupted by children’s nightmares soaked in sadness
She greets the morning sun holding back the tears
Adorning sunglasses so the suburban moms don’t ask her “what’s wrong?” as she skips her child to school

Gotta make sure her offspring are happy and
Gotta make sure they keep up their grades and
Gotta keep their schedules consistent so they won’t feel the pain
Gotta keep a smile at the job and
Gotta search for the desire to
pay the bills, do the laundry and cook them a healthy meal

Gotta shield them from the rain

But who is taking care of the little girl who just lost her daddy
Who makes sure she eats and keeps the heaviness of her heart from sinking into the pit of her stomach
Who holds back her fear of the journey through life as an orphan and raising strong kids alone while the village is slowly disappearing
No grandfathers, no grandmothers, no great grands, no mother no father
No father

Who holds her at the end of the night when the kids are counting sheep and she can’t find enough energy to weep
Who takes her by the hand and lifts her off her feet to give her burdens a chance to sleep
Who says its gonna be okay and wipes her tears away
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day
Maybe then she’ll feel like going out to play
But not today

Because she’s tossed and turned all night
Living a nightmare until the first ray of daylight
Then its time to dab away the pain and push away the tears
Because its 7:15 and the school bus will soon be here
And no one wants salty tears in their lunchbox

Yet she rises once again meeting the morning with a smile
As grief waits behind every closed door

God Bless the Child

(c) M Tonita Austin aka Toni Love  5/30/2013

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