on ATRs: choosing your spiritual home

The subject of African Traditional Religions (ATRs) is one that many Black folks across the diaspora have been leaning into. Especially in these times of unrest, upheaval and rediscovery, some of us find ourselves searching for home in the Spirit and isese, ancestral traditions of our forefamilies on the Continent and for some of us in the Caribbean. We look to Ifa, Vodun, Santeria, or even dive deeper into the Blackness of Christianity or Islam. We ask ourselves,"is this mine?" "Can I claim this? Are these my people?" These questions are so often entangled with questions of land, of culture, of identity and connection. For many of us, spiritual traditions are so much more than just guides for morality, behavior, or the world after death. For many of us, our spiritual traditions are the glue that holds together our worldview, our ideas of home, homeland, culture and family. 

As Black folks so torn from these things through trauma, of colonialism, of the Maafa, we can often feel lost without a spiritual home. For a long time, I felt lost without a spiritual home,

as someone who could not swallow the preacher's medicine as faithfully as my grandmother would have wanted. i was an avid reader from a very young age, including of the Bible; I knew the work of a storyteller when I heard it. the ring of fire and brimstone, of unanswered questions, of casual hypocrisy, of bone-deep mysogyny. the ring of bells from temples that were not of God. at least, not of my God. 

Not the God my grandmother showed me. Not the God who answered her faithful prayers behind closed doors. the God who held her through the loss of my Uncle Cliff, or who she spoke to in tongues that dried my tears when I had no clue why I was even crying. the God who enabled her to raise 3 beautiful, strong-willed Black sisters who birthed my generation of brothers and cousins who get to live lives our mothers could never dream for us. 

I knew that God well, but I rarely met Her in church.

I met Her in Granny's lap, in Mommy's hugs, in all the things that made me feel most myself.

I met Her in Harry Potter, where I first learned plants were alive.

I met her in Praise Dance, where music first lifted me higher than any drug.

I met Her in my backyard, lying in the grass and talking to butterflies.

I met Her in the mirror, once I got up the courage to look.

you must know who you are to know who your people are.

What are your beliefs? What are the truths that sit so deep in your soul. you forgot where they came from? What are your 'unshakeables'?  The habits you refuse to give up? Those are the building blocks of your spiritual house, your "must-haves" for the ATR of your "choosing". Those are the values your people must uphold or make space for if they are truly the community to which you belong.

Your spirituality is not meant to be a fight. It should not feel as if you are being forced into a box. It should feel as if you are entering a home, with all your necessities and then some extras you don't know about yet but are excited to find out.

If you must force yourself to believe, then you are not a believer.

and that is just fine.

Spirituality is a tool for our Spirit, but it is our Spirit that we must privilege, in every day in every way. What does your Spirit say? When you ask yourself, ' is this true', what does your Spirit say?
When you ask yourself, 'am I comfortable here', what does your Spirit say? is it a resounding YES!? We shrink ourselves before no one, not even God. So if this space cannot handle all of you, it is not your space. 

If their God cannot accept all of you, then sweetie...that is not your God. 

My God loves every. single. piece of me. Every single Black queer sensitive wild ass piece of me. Does yours?

Does your God love you? Does She lift you up, ride for you? Does She allow you to heal?

Or does She punish you? the way your momma punished you; the way you punish yourself in the mirror?

Damnation is not of God. 

Eternal punishment is not Her work. Nothing is eternal. 

Nothing is forever but Love. Love and Change. the only two things. Octavia Butler said so, and she speaks to my God as well.

We often search for the meaning to life, meaning we are meant to make ourselves, in the words and worlds of ancestors who trusted us to further the culture. Sankofa asks us to go back and fetch it, but we must then bring it to the present to make sense of the thing in its new context. We cannot expect old religion to save us, just as we could not expect our new religions to do so. Which is why we call it spirituality. 

i am not here to tell you which spiritual tradition to follow. or even to weigh out the pros and cons of each. There are plenty of breakdowns of both major and minor spiritual traditions that exist. (links) but whatever it is that you are doing, make sure that it is for you. this is your Spirit. Your Spirituality. Not your mom's, or your granddad's, or anybody else's. Living a lie, especially a spiritual one, pleases no one in the end, not even God.

You are not in this game to save anyone's soul but your own, if you think it needs saving. 

So trust yourself, trust your ancestors, trust your Creator, and surrender to the call of the Spirit. She will lead you home.