Letter to Africa
About twenty people have sent me this video over the last few months and for whatever reason I haven’t looked at it until now. Why I picked the night that Odette and I went to hear the boys from War/Dance play and Samite Mulondo sing, I don’t know, since you would think two hours of the two of us listening with tears streaming down our faces would be enough for one night, but no. Some people just can’t get enough.
I really don’t know what to do with you, Africa. You are the lining of my heart, the resting place of my soul, my mother, my baby, my long lost friend. I feel completely undone by you and more than a little ashamed that it’s been this long and I can’t even remotely begin to get it together. I have lots of categories for you and rationalizations and God knows endless psycho-babble to explain you to myself, but at the end of the day there are no words, just deep love. For you, for me and so many things about us both that continue to defy explanation.
I want you to know, Africa, that my heart is in your hands. I am trusting your wise women and your young sages, your ancient dreams and your undying faith in the future. I am believing that something greater is holding even you and that I don’t have to be afraid of It or you or all the unknowable things that string like a lifeline between us. I am holding on to Love and giving myself over to the mystery that brought you into my life. I am standing in the place of peace, trusting that there is nothing for me to do but tell us both the truth and tend to my life, one tiny moment at a time.
My heart broke in a million pieces tonight to listen to your songs and to watch your dances, the dances that have been born out of deep pain and even deeper hope. I want you to know I see all the ways you are rich, when I am so very poor. Because of your beauty and your courage, I am learning what it means to be patient. Because of you, I am learning what it means to stand strong with my open hands, not knowing how the story ends. Because of you, I know how to cry again. Because of you, my heart is being made whole. All I can say is thank you.
All my love,
Mukanyemina (the name Odette’s mother gave me which means she is one of our branches–from the beginning)
August 22nd, 2008 at 12:28 am
i read this post again as tears threatened to fall down my face. the love you feel vibrates within these words.
thank you for sharing these pieces of your experience, these pieces of you.
sending you blessings and light and peace…
August 22nd, 2008 at 12:29 am
i find myself practicing your african name often. mukanyemina. mukanyemina. there, i got. love via africa has a firm grip on you, my friend. it is the birthing place of it. the resting place of it. it all matters
xoxo
August 22nd, 2008 at 2:14 am
In the face of such bigness, such love, such honesty… words fail. And yet somehow, you find them, time and time again.
August 22nd, 2008 at 4:15 am
Cut to the heart as I watched this video…Africa. Africa.
August 22nd, 2008 at 6:25 am
Powerful words for the powerful emotions of a woman who is, powerful beyond measure.
Jen Lemen = power
August 22nd, 2008 at 6:46 am
I should have written that this way.
Jen Lemen = POWERFUL!
August 22nd, 2008 at 6:52 am
Yes.
August 22nd, 2008 at 8:01 am
Jen . . . my mother took up residence in Africa after it stole her heart as well!
I understand.
August 22nd, 2008 at 3:26 pm
yes! the name suits you.
August 22nd, 2008 at 11:22 pm
Oh wow. What a beautiful video. I’m glad you saw this. I’m glad I saw this. I’m praying for you.
August 22nd, 2008 at 11:58 pm
So moving and so beautiful. Words fail me.
August 23rd, 2008 at 8:18 am
Your words and spirit are truly beautiful. I wish you much strength and patience as your days unfold.
August 23rd, 2008 at 9:43 am
That’s a great video. I get so tingly inside when others experience Africa the way I did, courageous, rich in beauty, love, and all those other things you can’t buy, faith and hope. I’ve had too much meeting up with well intentioned missionaries and aid workers who thought they were the ones giving Africa something, rather than noticing all that Africa had to give them (and I’ve fallen into this camp too at times, I sure). Even now, when I hear of friends adopting from Ethiopia, I squirm a bit, hoping beyond hope that they’ll ‘get’ even a little part of what Ethiopia has to give to them, rather than what they have to give to Ethiopia. I have so much hope when I read your words. I know, I don’t even ‘get’ half of it, not even a quarter or an eighth … what I do know is that there’s treasure beyond what our physical world is conscious of living out there across the ocean.
Wishing you much sweet tenderness, courage, patience and love on your journey.
August 23rd, 2008 at 12:05 pm
“Your pain has changed me.”
Kind of says it, doesn’t it?
August 23rd, 2008 at 12:47 pm
I can easily imagine Africa writing a similar love letter back to you.
Radio DavidByrne.com is playing African music this month.
http://www.davidbyrne.com/radio/index.php
I’ve been listening to it in the background while working at my computer.
August 23rd, 2008 at 2:03 pm
Beautiful, beautiful words. “… trusting that there is nothing for me to do but tell us both the truth and tend to my life” … Jen, you are allowed to rest. We are neither the beginning nor the end. Your courage inspires us … you carried the flame to us and it will burn on. Rest, love, peace to you, brave sojourner. You fanned the flames as a loving, wise mother … now rest.
August 23rd, 2008 at 7:43 pm
need to add something before I leave for the evening. rushed back in to logon. thoughts floating as I was getting ready … you are allowed MORE than to just rest. You are allowed to be at peace without mending anything. That brought me full circle to something you wrote earlier - you are allowed to “just be.” “Just be” right where you were planted, right where you were meant to be. Right where you are now. And that’s lovely. And magnificent. And amazing. To. be. Jen.
August 24th, 2008 at 4:47 pm
thank you for this post, you touched my soul with your words. The second paragraph is just plain beautiful.
From a child born under African skies…
August 25th, 2008 at 10:09 am
What a love letter, Jen. These kinds of loves are so haunting and beautiful and heart-rending and awful and beautiful… You are traversing this love so well my dear.
August 25th, 2008 at 2:46 pm
Your post reminds me how alive I felt in Africa. Thank you for sharing.
August 25th, 2008 at 7:03 pm
Great video/song/artist - Sara Groves is one of our absolute favorites. My trips to Africa did the same thing to me, and I am empathetic to the feelings of what do I do with you.
Thanks for sharing your heart Jen, follow it.
September 11th, 2008 at 11:48 am
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