Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [107]
Six weeks before my forty-second birthday, I went on a three-day fast, asking Spirit to tell me what to do to break the cycle. What to do to create more love in myself, for myself. On the third day of the fast, the answer magically came to mind: Surround yourself with those who love you. Not until that moment did I realize that I had never celebrated myself. I had never had a birthday celebration.
I have a wonderfully diverse circle of friends and comrades. These women, most of them deeply steeped in spiritual practices and knowledge, have taught me a great deal. They have knowledge of everything from Zen Buddhism to Native American lore. Some of these women are ministers in the most traditional sense. Others are priestesses and sacred-pipe carriers. Some have been my students who have now branched off into other areas of study. Some honor the Goddess, while others pursue more esoteric studies. I made a list of forty-two women, most of them older than me. All had two things in common: they led an intensely spiritual life, and they loved me unconditionally. These were the women I chose to participate in my “rites of passage.”
I rented a tent and decorated everything in my backyard in rich purple-and-gold fabric. My daughter Gemmia, another friend who specializes in vegetarian cuisine, and I prepared every morsel of food with our own hands. I had spent the preceding three days in prayer, asking God, the Goddess, the Holy Spirit, my ancestors from all nations and cultures to cleanse me and guide me in a new direction, away from all past errors. When I wasn’t in active prayer, I was silent. It can be pretty challenging to remain silent while preparing for your first birthday party, but I knew it was something I needed to do in order to get centered. To let my past thoughts and feelings rise to the surface.
The women came from all across the country. As they began to arrive, I could feel a sacred energy rising through my home and around me. It was the presence of love, and it was all focused on me. I had asked each of the women if they would conduct a ceremony on my behalf, based on their own spiritual philosophy. I asked that their gifts, if they chose to give one, be something that was sacred or meaningful to them.
We began with an ancient African ceremony, washing of the head. Each woman over forty years old was asked to pray for me while washing my head with clear, cool water. By the time the third woman came to wash me, the entire circle was in tears. They prayed for my safety, clarity, and health. They blessed me with love and claimed abundance for me. When my daughters Gemmia and Nisa knelt before me to wash my head and pray for me, the entire circle fell to pieces. By then, most of the women were wailing. We made it through to the next ceremony, the consecration of my body.
Women have always bathed together and bathed one another. When women enter the water together, it is a very sacred act. Since we were in a backyard, we thought it best not to have forty-two naked women splashing around in a metal washtub. Instead, the women surrounded me, holding up white sheets while the two oldest women in the group stripped me and cleansed my body with herbs. Of course, those in the circle watching made all sorts of jokes about my body—the things that were lying down, the things that were standing out, trying to be noticed. Most of all, we laughed about the neighbors who were undoubtedly peering out of their windows, trying to figure out what the heck we were doing. When the bath was completed, the women dressed me in a white outfit that my elder daughter, Gemmia, had picked out for me.
Following the bath, one of the women