The music had changed again. Now, it was more seductive, more sensual. I lookedover at a small crowd of dancers who all moved in unison. They circled around abeautiful woman with seawater blue eyes. Her hair was pulled up in fancy chiffon andwas adorned with colorful peacock feathers. Gold bracelets were clasps around her wristand a gold plated necklace hung around her neck. The dancers shimmied around her andthen took their places behind her. She glided across the room, manipulating the fabricfrom her multi-layered gown to rise up and flutter like butterfly wings. The dress wasyellow and embedded with white lace embroidery. She executed a full body turn in midair, revealing a pale underskirt. Her dress billowed around her like the petals of a fullyblossomed rose. She fell to her knees and kneeled forward with her dress rippling aroundher. She clapped her hands together and brought them to her chin in prayer position. Shethen peacefully rested on the floor, lying on her side. She gracefully climbed up to herfeet and turned her back to me. I could smell the scent of sweet jasmine.
“You know who I am?” she asked, turning her head.
“Yes, I know all of you. I dreamed about you,” I said staring at her profile.
She turned around and faced me.
“Do you think that you’re dreaming now?” she asked.
I looked at her and realized that I didn’t know. I could no longer tell what was adream and what was real. I just looked at her puzzled. She read my expression andgiggled.
“Off course you’re confused,” she said.
You haven’t allowed your egguns to guide you.” She continued.
“Egguns?”
She walked closer to me and the scent of jasmine got stronger. “Oshún is the Orishathat presides over the rivers. Only, the rivers are symbolic of your blood line, yourlineage,” she said while dancing. She appeared to be floating. I was amazed at howgraceful she was; her movements flowed like water running through a stream.
“Each blood lineage leads back to a collective pool of consciousness, like a riverconnecting to the sea,” she continued as she walked around me.
“When you don’t know your lineage, you can’t tap into its power,” she whispered.
She touched my face and I melted. Her fingers were so soft. I closed my eyes as shebegan to caress my cheek and forehead.
“A single drop of water is powerless, it is only when it connects to the sea, to thesource is when it becomes powerful,” she said inching closer to my face. Her breathsmelled of peppermint. I opened my eyes, and we locked gazes.
“Oshún is the Orisha of unconditional love, she will help you to plug into the pool ofconsciousness, to feel yourself up with love, so you can heal,” she said while pullingloose strands of hair off of my forehead.
“But first, you need to trust your egguns. They will guide you,” she said whilecupping my face. I just shook my head. She stepped away and smiled. Her dancers cameback and twirled around her like ballerinas, waving their scarves in the air. They thenwrapped their scarves around her. She rolled around gracefully, like a moth, allowingherself to be cocooned by the garments. She just stood and looked at me, wrapped inbeautiful fabric. The dancers covered her face last. They circled around her once againand then pulled the scarves off her. They pulled away, and she was gone.
I just stood there, wide eyed. And then it hit me. It all started with just a voice, a lowwhisper.
“Your soul remembers, your Ori remembers,” it said.
I looked around me, aghast. I wondered where the voice had come from. Then Iheard it again.
“You have to clean yourself. Free yourself from bad spirits.” The voice was louder,crisper, clearer than my own thoughts.
“Don’t resist, your body knows what to do. Your soul remembers.”
There was an explosion of fireworks inside of my chest. My body jerked fromsudden bursts of energy. My arms started to swing from side to side and my legs movedin awkward positions. I began to swing my head around like a drunken rock star playingan air guitar. I normally wore my hair in a high ponytail. It imploded around my face. Itook off running around the room, jumping into the air and doing pirouettes. The beats ofthe drums were like surges of energy that ignited my spirit; launching my soul intoanother world.
I kept running. I focused on a giant beam of light. I ran toward it full speed. Thebeam suddenly came alive, and I could see its face, its arms, its torso and neck. I smackedinto it like a linebacker and was knocked down to the floor by its recourse. My brainrattled in my head. I looked up and could barely make out the features of the man. Hekneeled down, and I could see eyes that were so dark they were almost black and clear asa midnight stream. It was Chobo, only now he had smooth chocolate skin with a woolywhite beard and mustache.
He had two white sheets wrapped around him that looked like a tunic and cloak. Hewas holding something in his hand. I struggled to stand up as he thrashed me with iswhisk tail. Something inside me told me that I was supposed to feel pain. But I didn’t.Instead, a wave of pleasure surged through my body. My nerve endings tingled likechimes whistling in the wind.
“I am Obatalá, and I am responsible for darkness and light. I am here to make yourspirit pure,” he said while pointing a large black finger at me.
“Your bloodline has been tainted because you have failed to cleanse negativeenergy,” he said while placing his hand on his hips with the whisk tail dangling from hiswaist.
“When negative ashé is not cleared, it reincarnates over and over again, infectinggenerations after generations,” he said.
“It’s a curse. The lineage curse that you were talking about,” I said.
“You have to go to the heaven that’s inside
