Reflections From Back Home
a visual essay on reuniting with self.
© 2024 De’Ja Armstrong / Girl Meets Film
I am writing this essay while sitting in my mother's rocking chair under a crabapple tree in my parents' backyard.
The sunrays are joyously sprinkled across my notebook’s pages. My mother's birthday is tomorrow so she and my dad are out on vacation. I am rich in solitude and reflection while I occupy the home while they are away. The sounds of the neighborhood birds and the deep tranquilizing melody of the wind chimes are keeping me company on this hot summer afternoon. I was seeking serenity these past few weeks and this moment gifts me just that. The constant anxiety and butterflies in my stomach lately have been accompanied by a rollercoaster of emotions. Most days I wish to cry because of my shame. I envy the turtles that have a shell to retreat to.
Returning home always washes away all of my worry. My mother has poured so much love into this home. The peaceful aura of this home is felt right when you arrive to the drive way. If you aren't impressed enough by the trees my mom planted almost 15 years ago, I'm sure you would be sold by the vibrant and playful flowers in the yard, or the hospitable welcome flag by the front door. It's like the birds are always singing. The neighborhood cats even find joy in browsing around the yard.
I admit that sometimes the city life makes me forget about the beauty of the slow and simple life in the country. sitting under my mothers trees, enjoying the fruits of her labor, reminds me of the powerful yet honorable responsibility in tending to your home as a woman. It is a meditation in planting the seeds, nurturing your home, and bearing the fruits. I wish to create a home that overflows with wisdom, patience, and love, just as my mother.
I am convinced that women are the reflection of God, and that he takes great pride in the responsibilities he has given us. It amazes me the power of a woman. My mother and grandmother show me everyday the power of being woman, gentle but strong and undeniable. For them to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, so gracefully, while still finding room to carry me when I needed it, simply gives me chills. The blessings and mercy of a woman is honorable.
Just a few weeks ago, I made a promise that I would be honest with myself, in all areas of my life. I wished to simply start over from a place where i was moving only in a frequency that was truly for me, void of the influence from my peers. My healing, in what felt like immediately, began after this affirmation. God has a humorus way of fufilling our desires. It is never as we “plan” it and most of the time its hard and unfavorable lessons. I learned during this time that completely surrendering to God’s will, will always lead us to a path that’s more suited for us. I remember a great saying that affirms “God will never take something from you, without replacing it with something of equal or greater value.”
In my reflection period, God has surely made his presence known. If I had to describe it, I would explain a deep sense of calm. On the surface things can be seen as overwhelming and it looks as if the devil has won. Deep in my spirit, I can feel the reassurance of God having all my worries under control.
God’s grace is the settling of a racing heart. It is the heaviness being lifted. It is me feeling the kiss of the wind blowing against my skin. God’s grace to me is me sitting in my mothers rocking chair while the birds sing to me, the crickets harmonizing, and the butterflies passing by to say hello to me.
I am ok with being broken down to rebuild myself, I will call it divine reconstruction. God always knows what's best and he will always work in our highest favor.
The moment my healing took place I was brought back to a simple and uncomplicated calmness; back to my authentic hometown southern roots. Here, I am reminded of the power of staying true to myself, to my hometown values, and my true life path. I am also reminded of how rare the wisdom is from my roots really are.
I am committed to never forgetting the beauty of where I come from. No amount of money can replace the healing I wish to also pour into my home.
Superficial materials of this world won't fix a broken heart. It can't offer me the solace of my mother's rocking chair or the power of my grandmother's prayers. I now have a desire to have the heart of my mother, to have the beauty and politeness of the flowers in her yard, and to have the gift of prayer like my grandmother...
These are just my reflections from back home.
