What’s up y’all, its ya girl Abba Parks. I’m in tha Annex and today I want to talk about the power of thought. 

No not THOT as is ‘that hoe over there’, although I might touch on that in another episode but for now what I really mean is the processes that happens in our mind on the micro and macro level and how they affect us on the daily. 

Thoughts have the power to shape our reality. They are a reflection of our inner world, they can reveal how we cope with the outer world, and if you look even closer they can show you hidden parts of yourself that you’ve probably spent a good chunk of time searching for. 

As a kid I would spend endless hours looking up at the clouds in the park, staring out the window on long drives to some auntie’s house and generally daydreaming any chance I could get. I can’t remember exactly what it was I was dreaming about or what thoughts were holding me but I remember vividly all the times I was violently pulled out of my mental oasis and thrust into a chaotic reality. 

I say chaotic not because it was dysfunctional but because it was different than how I structured my world internally. You see as a kid I had a unique way to organize my mind that made sense to me. I put certain things in specific places and did specific things at certain times. Method to my madness. 

The chaos that surrounded me was due to the fact that I was operating from a completely different system of life that did not make sense to anyone in my everyday life and vice versa. I was a kid growing up in the midst of two very different cultures, I didn’t know how to communicate what was going on so for the most part my family would think I was just being stubborn or ‘Canadian’ and in turn I would receive stricter rules or punishment for my rebellious nature. 

For example: I am a very sensitive person, I mean literally, I have sensitive skin, teeth, sensitive scalp, everything; over the years this sensitivity has allowed me to develop a high pain tolerance which makes is great when getting tattooed but as a kid I was weak when it came to pain. 

I would cry for days over a paper cut so getting my hair done by my mother was like going into battle with a fierce warrior every week. Her only resolve was to tame the beast on my head and she always won.

I’ll be honest though, after a few years I began to dread the weekly battles in this war against my hair that my mother had declared. In my mind, my scalp wanted to be left alone, my hair was happiest just being left to grow as it is. That’s why I would act up when it was overly disrupted and by disrupted I mean having strands of hair pulled out from the roots because the heavy handed person doing my hair did not believe in tender headedness. 

I remember once telling my mom that I didn’t want my hair done because it hurt, that I just wanted it to be left as it is; boy did I get a lecture and a half  and soon after that I found myself sat down in the living room for a few hours to have my scalp once again disrupted from her peace. 

Ok, I thought, this is my life now. I gave in and would prepare myself mentally for the pulling, twisted, greasing, and braiding of the precious cargo atop of my head. 

This didn’t last long, after a while I got tired of giving in to her battles but I was afraid of speaking my mind and expressing my thoughts so true to my rebellious nature, I started looking for different avenues to avoid my mother and hair day all together so I wouldn’t have to sit through another torturous session. 

I was really good at disappearing as a kid, especially when it came to washing dishes or cleaning. A couple of weeks into my hair hiatus and I thought I was in the clear, I thought the message had gotten across and I was home free, no more scalp torture. Wrong. I woke up one beautiful Saturday morning eager to hit the outdoors and hang out with my friends. I didn’t even make it out of the house before my mom got a hold of me sat me down in the living to teach me a lesson, this time with a some clippers instead of a hot comb. 

Yeah, she shaved my head. 

That was the first time I had my heart broken. I felt like a part of me had died. I cried the whole weekend and refused to leave the house. Could you imagine what it was like to have a big tangled fro one day and the nothing there but skin and a few scabs from where she cut too close the next? 

It was brutal. 

I died of embarrassment all weekend and the taunts I got from my siblings didn’t help. By Sunday evening my mind had thought of another way to rebel. If I had no hair, I wouldn’t go to school. If I wasn’t at school no one could make fun of me.

So Monday came along and I took the bus to school like usual, but this time when I got off, I just walked back home. By the time I got there, everyone was gone so I was just hanging out by myself for the day, snoop through my siblings rooms, and make sure to delete the message from the school before my mom would get home so no one would know about my little indiscretion. 

Reclaiming my peace. Or so I thought. I skipped classes for a week before I realized how boring it was and that I was actually hurting myself more because I actually enjoyed school but the fear I had about what other people would think about my hair kept me from going. 

I figured I couldn’t skip another week of classes without my mother knowing and I really didn’t want to. I was surprised I got away with it already but I knew I had to find a way to reconcile my experience and get back to living my life before I got in major trouble.

I came up with a story about why my hair was cut off and by the time I hit classes the next week no one was making fun of me. All my friends were talking about how badass I was for shaving my head and a few boys in the class actually shaved theirs too that week. I was in complete shock as to how the reactions everyone had was completely different than what I had expected but because I came in with confidence it left no room for anyone to mock me. 

Looking back now, I was ahead of my time in elementary school. 

A true visionary, mhmm. 

Long story I know, what I’m trying to get at is this. You are not your thoughts but thoughts can help guide you into the life you want to live. They can help shape your reality for the better but if you give them too much power they will keep you hidden from yourself and living in fear. 

Self Knowledge, Boundaries, Rituals, and Thought are all never ending processes that keep us steady on this journey through life. The journey back to our Selves. 

Thoughts allow you to maintain your boundaries, discover new ones, and  reinforce your self knowledge which will help you build better rituals that in turn help you maintain balance and live life to the fullest. 

So how do you engage with these tools? How do you set boundaries? How do you practice ritual? And how do you manage your thoughts? 

Let me know what you think or not not. Do you and I’ll catch you here next week same time, same place. Until then take it easy and be kind to yourself. Much love.