The Shift

“Can you provide documentation of the hardship the student experienced during the summer session?”

I rolled over, pulling the top of my nightgown over a runaway tit. “Documentation?”

“Yes, the department needs documentation in order to approve the grade change.”

I sighed. It hadn’t been this hard before. Doing basic things to help my students. College was not an easy time. Life still happened. Life still hurt. Sometimes more than it felt good. No amount of jungle juice and MD 20/20 changed heartbreak, pregnancy, sexual assault, death… shit, just being nineteen. Add in an international pandemic that shut down whole nations, completely upending educational systems with a move to a virtual environment – what documentation could cover the possibilities?

“I really don’t understand how I can document an emotionally abusive home environment.”

“Did they have laptop issues? Maybe if they had a hard time connecting to the internet… something like that would be acceptable. You know, even I had internet issues this summer.”

“Oh… okay. Well, thanks Dr. Mghee.”

“Any time, Rae. Remember, be careful with these students. Don’t let them fool you. It sounds horrible, but you can’t trust them.” She laughed, tittering on about the devious natures of our student population.

I hated the trend of calling things ghetto, but, damn, if this wasn’t close. At 30 most of my professional employment had been in colleges and universities, much of which coincided with my own continuing education. Higher ed was <insert heavy sigh> interesting. And I was a student again – dragging myself through an Ed.D program to finally give my grandfather a doctorate degree. It was the only thing he had ever really asked of me and I hated that I struggled to give him something so simple. The work wasn’t necessarily hard. I’m good at school. No arrogance about it. It was what it was. And it was expected that I take advantage of that.

But my heart. My heart wasn’t in it.

The work had become a looming wave, inevitable but with adequate time to either ride that bitch or drown. I was the sort to sit, puff bar pressed to my lips, and watch it come, knowing it was going to hit me in the face like Rick James did Charlie Murphy. I knew and didn’t know why I wouldn’t just hop on the surfboard and ride my way to professional academic success. I cared about education. I enjoyed engaging with my students.

But my heart.

“RAE LEE! Come take the dog out! I’m going to be late!”

“Dammit,” I whispered. When I moved out of my mama’s house, I was not getting a dog.

***

It was crowded. I shuffled the Amazon boxes that now held my handmade body products to get a better grip. I wasn’t great at carrying a lot of things at once most of the time. And I didn’t have packing tape at home. So, per usual, I was balancing open-ended questions on the intersectionality of preparation and talent. I walked carefully to self-service, watching my precarious load as if my eyes were a second set of hands.

Swiiishh.

The whisper of near collision made me jerk, and I apologetically backed away into someone else. Immediately I overcompensated with a step to the left, almost beheading a small child with my sturdy orange wristlet that had taken the place of oversized purses. Anxiety bloomed and I quickly sought the best way out of the way. Packages shifted, the unsteady hold I had on the base box, the foundation of my uncertainty – slipped. Or I let go. Thank God I switched to plastic product jars.

I laughed. There was no point in being upset when I fucked up. It happened often. There was nothing to do but gather my things, step to the side, and get it together. Even so, I was aware of every eye in the room, imagining each one on me – the arrogance of insecurity.

“Excuse me, honey. You dropped something.”

I glanced up. Damn! She was everything chocolate and gold, her locs styled in a beautiful up-do. Total goddess. I giggled, a little awed by her shine. “Girl, I dropped everything!” Looking at what she held, I paused. “Oh! Oh no, that’s not mine.”

She pushed a black notebook towards me. “I’m sure it’s yours. I watched you drop it a long time ago. You were trying not to take up space then too. Don’t lose it again, honey.” She pressed the notebook between my left breast and a box with a shiny mango-colored nail. “Use it well.”

I watched her walk away, a smooth glide led from the hip, easy and confident. That was a badass sunflower printed jumpsuit. Fashion Nova?

***

I threw my wallet and keys on the nightstand before laying halfway across the bed to admire the notebook. It was nice. Very nice. I considered myself a writer even though I didn’t actively write. I was that way with a lot of things – always beginning. This one looked new and I ran my hand across the smooth cover, appreciating the weight – a soft protector of thoughts, feelings, and secrets. I opened it, curious to see who I would find in the pages.

It was blank. Every page. Blank.

Weird. Truly, curiosity wouldn’t allow me to consider throwing it away. Things happened for a reason. If nothing else, it was a reminder that I needed to make time to write. I still craved it. Like the first kiss that made you tingle. Yes, I needed to write. Message received Universe. Message received. I sighed and I turned over onto my back. My sighs become deep breaths, filling my chest. The smooth skin of the notebook pressed between my right palm and belly. I breathed.

***

“She’s not going to get it. I bet $10,000 ancestor dollars.”

“She might! You are always discounting her, that’s probably why she misses it so much.”

“It’s because she’s blocking herself. Always has since she sang Happy effing Birthday instead of Cum Ba Yah at that audition! Look at her! All these blessings just sitting here with her name on them, and she still hasn’t got it!”

“She was five!”

“I don’t give a damn! You know how much I tried to prepare her for that opportunity. She could’ve been on a yacht with Rihanna right now planning a collab album and international tour!”

“That’s not this reality, so get over it! We have to deal with her in this reality. You know how it works!”

“Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t been disappointed by her lack of just do it.”

“We are here to help guide her in love and understanding…”

“Is that why you helped her drink that whole fifth of Wild Turkey 101 at the class reunion?”

“…….. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, the night she got drunk and had unsatisfying sex with her childhood friend solidifying her realization that she should end her engagement.”

“She was already getting there and that wasn’t even why they broke up.”

“You would know…”

“Dammit, I couldn’t take it anymore! He was draining all of her beautiful sparkle!”

“You both are wasting time. Shut up, and project images of how to use the notebook. Lord knows we have to go hard all night if she’s going to remember in the morning.”

***

I am who I say I am. I am… connected… I am guided… I am my own prosperity. I am all that I need to be. All I need… is within me. Unblock it. Release. I am... Write it. Believe it…. Asé.

Light filled my room as it did every morning and I smiled knowing it made my little jungle possible. I was a plant mom, and since moving back home my plant babies were thriving. So much was better now that I was single. If only I could step into some financial security. I had replaced chasing my ex-fiance’s happiness with chasing money. Attracting money, I corrected myself. Ching, ching, ching, I’m a money tree. Every time I ching money comes to me.

I shifted sleepily onto my stomach, wincing at a sharp poke to my hipbone. I reached down just right to get a solid papercut on my pointer finger. What the hell! I sat up, dropping up the notebook on my lap before inspecting my finger. I held it over the open notebook, looking over to the nightstand for a discarded napkin.

Write it.

I paused. There was a pen on the edge for the nightstand I didn’t remember from the night before.

Write what is.

Money. Sales. My small business was my creative love manifested. It was a chance to live the life I wanted through my heart. I wanted my creativity to be my avenue to financial freedom. I wanted to not want for anything, to live my life happily and full of unlimited creation without sacrificing eyelash extensions, traveling, or freedom.

Write. It. Is. So.

I paused. Honestly, it was about more than the money. It was about being the person I knew I could be. Walking as the deeply connected, in-tune woman who created her own reality. A woman who could call all she desired to her. I picked up the pen and turned to the first page, ignoring the red fingerprints turning to rust. I wrote.

***

Who was blowing up my phone so early in the morning? I assumed the steady, but short notifications were either juicy gossip in the family chat or a stressed tirade from my group members. I wanted nothing to do with either.

Hmmmm. Hmmmm. Hmmmm.

Oh. My. God! I thrust my hand around under the sheets in search of the incessant buzzing and drew back with a curse. Blood welled up on my pointer finger from a small paper cut. The heck? I reached down carefully this time, grabbing the black notebook and letting it fall open on my lap before picking up my phone. I unlocked the screen and saw 77 notifications from Square. What the…? I opened the app.

*222 new orders. $5,550.00 is now waiting to be transferred to bank account on file.*

I dropped the phone, the sound of weight hitting paper making me look down. The notebook. I got blood on it. Damn. Writing on the first page caught my eye. Confused, strangely unsettled, I read.

I am grateful. I am deeply connected to my ancestors, spirit guides, and my highest self. I am a magnet for prosperity. I am powerful. I am she who creates her reality. I am who I say I am. It is so. Asé.

Woah. I was flabbergasted. I looked down at the page again, breath caught high in my chest as I realized was more writing near the bottom of the page. I squinted. Damn, it was small but legible.

P.S. The above being said, I immediately and without delay manifest the monetary funds to assist in the ascension of my highest self. May I overflow with eternal gratitude. It is so. Asé.

***

Surprisingly, the large influx of orders was not an issue. Of course, I’m dramatic af, so I went through several stages of disbelief including crying, screaming, hysterical laughter, and fervent prayer. Still, everything settled into place perfectly. Too perfectly. I found myself slipping deeper into the drama of suspicion. This was weird. 222 orders with an even total of $5,550 – a double triple number sequence – like c’mon. But the math was mathing – all of my product prices were in increments of $5 and the average order was $25.

But still...

The orders were completely covered by my inventory (substantial due to lack of sales) leaving me only a few items for personal use. I didn’t even have to pay for shipping as the post office was running a special for small businesses. Super weird! There was only one order left and it required hand delivery. Erzuli D’Oro. Something about it felt special, like a buzzing sense of anticipation.

I pulled up to #5 Honeybee River at 5:55 pm. While I appreciated the spiritual connection synchronicities represented, it was starting to feel like the freaking Matrix. Including this house. I’d been in Texas a while, so I’d seen some big ass houses, but this was dreamy. The Balinese-style mansion hosted a sizable lake surrounded by trees in the background. Monsteras, various types of palms, and hibiscus seemed to breathe around the stone walkway. It was like a jungle oasis with sunflowers. Wow. I had never seen so many species of sunflowers. Kinda strange with the tropical in Texas vibe, but it worked.

Go.

Snapping out of it, I got out the car bag in hand and stepped onto the walkway. My ears popped painfully, and I stumbled forward. Ouch! The fu--?

“You’re heeeeeeeeerrrrrrrreeeee! Welcome, honey!”

That voice. I looked up and took a step back. Today she wore a couture sunflower bikini –glittering gold chains held together realistic sunflowers over each full breast and at the juncture of her thighs. She was taller than I remembered, a solid warrior goddess the color of rich earth. Her golden-tipped locs were pulled into two space buns, each complete with gold chopsticks and accented by gold hoop earrings bigger than my palm. Sis. Was. Bad. I felt my belly tingle.

Her laughter tinkled like bells, “Oh my gawd, you’re naughty!” She laughed again. “Ah, but what do I expect you are one of mine. Come on up here honey, let's get this party staaaarrtttteeeeedddd! Wooooooo!”

“Party?” I choked out.

“Oh honey, anywhere I am, is a party. Believe that!” She reached out and grabbed my wrist, her short, golden claws encrusted with rhinestones. “Diamonds, little girl. Don’t play me.”

I burst out laughing. She was reading my mind. I was losing it. It wasn’t real. A movie. Yes, I was in a movie because I could not make this up. The interior decor was giving me the earthiness of Tulum/Bali luxury meets Michael Jackson in Dubai.

“Michael does have impeccable taste, that chaise lounge over that is actually from him…”

I pulled back, I couldn’t help it. I don’t care how many fantasy romance novels I’ve lived in over the years, I could not just accept this like nothing was happening. “I’m sorry, excuse me. I just need…”

Just trust.

“SEE!” I yelled.

Lower your voice!

I whispered, “Nah see, there was another voice just now, and there’s only two óf us in here! I’m getting scared. This is happening real fast, so if we could pause, I would be really grateful, please.” A subtle panic filled me, but I had definitely heard that voice tell me to shut the fuck up, I and was going to listen.

I never said shut the fuck up, Rae. So dramatic. *eye roll*

“Then how do I know you just rolled your eyes!” Glittering cocoa fingers snapped in my face, splattering me with something thick and oily. I winced, wiping the melting body butter from my cheeks, staring blankly into the deep eyes of the Sunflower Lady.

“Erzuli, honey. Or Oshun to you. Get it together. You over here hollering to yourself looking all crazy. We don’t have time for this. Plus, what you said didn’t even make sense.”

Exactly.

“Hey!” I protested.

“Hush your mouth and listen! Damn, y’all humans be working a nerve sometimes.” I shut my mouth and watched her rub my golden shimmer body butter onto her skin. “Yes, I hear the voice. No, you are not crazy. Yes, I said I am Oshun. No, you are not dreaming. And this is some damn good body butter, girl, yaaassss! The glitter is e-ver-ry-thing, dahling. Make sure you keep some on my altar, so I don’t run out. Oooooooo oooooo!”

***

I sat down on a plush mustard chair and gently set my teacup on a massive aquarium that served as a dining table. Brightly colored fish darted through the vibrant plant life that swayed in the current. I looked up to find Oshun, Oshun?, Oshun had put on a pair of sparkly gold glasses and opened up chrome gold MacBook Air.

“Okay, mija! Let’s get down to business!” Oshun sang.

To defeat… the Huns!

I had to say I was adapting rather quickly. I almost laughed with Oshun and the disembodied voice who had yet to identify itself. Mulan was a classic and I was a 90s baby. What can I say?

That’s how I know you be ignoring my ass.

“I literally just met you today, voice.” Sarcasm dripped heavy and I let it.

I am literally always with you.

“And okay!” Oshun interjected, exasperated. “We will not be wasting Orisha time with trivial matters. I have been patient enough. Now Rae, did you bring the unlimited edition notebook?”

“Unlimited edition…?” I was confused.

“The notebook of unlimited possibilities. From now own you need to keep it on you at all times. Things are about to get CRAZY up in here!”

Up in here!

I managed to ignore the voice. “Um, Ms. Oshun… what do you mean things are about to get crazy?” If I wasn’t numb, I’m sure I’d be having heart palpitations. I’d always been…

A fucking crybaby, scaredy-cat?

“Yes, dammit. My intuition is telling me that something strange is going on here. And honestly, I’m not built to be a soldier in these mystical streets.” I felt tears swell in my throat. Dammit, I wanted to be magical, but a bih was scared.

Now you choose to acknowledge me?

Oshun rolled her big eyes, “Good-ness! Rae that voice is Me’tet. It is your principal spirit guide tasked with staying with you and only you for the duration of your journey to your highest self. You’ll need them a lot, as we have already initiated the jump in realities. Now…” she began clacking on the laptop.

“Jump in realities?”

“Yes, you accepted the black notebook, and you passed the test – make sure to thank your ancestors, I heard they put in mad work to get through to you this time.” She continued to type. “However, you managed to exceed expectations by realizing that you, my dear, are a much stronger manifestation than money or success alone. Therefore, we have jumped several realities and the timeline is in warp speed.”

Buckle up, sis. We ‘bout to go on a ride.

Oshun laughed again, “Yes! It’s going to be so much fun. Now, it is time to reclaim all that power you’ve been giving away all willy-nilly.” She tsked with disappointment. “We don’t have time for you to absorb it through straight shadow work and forgiveness at this point, so…” She lifted her eyes to mine with a creepy smile. “We are channeling Oya and Shakti, honey bee – we’re taking back what’s yours by force.”

The cackle that boomed from the depths of her chest nearly made me pee myself. “Force?”

“Yeeeesssssss!” The maniacal laughter was almost contagious… almost.

Um, she’s a little too excited about this.

“I agree.” I squeaked. “So, uh, how do we go about this?”

The air vibrated around Oshun in a haze of buzzing golden light. “Slap the shit out of every mofo who’s walking around with your power, that’s how.”

Ooooooo niiice!

“Yall, are violent,” I whined. I had never been in a fight in my life.

Oshun huffed, “The real violence is what you’ve been doing to yourself, little girl. You, a chosen one, walking around giving your energy away for nothing more than imaginary orgasms and heartbreak. It’s like you don’t even love yourself for real. How can you expect to level up like that?”

Facts. *sips tea*

“Okay. I take that. But I’ve been working on it!” I knew it was bad but damn.

“Of course, but now we are in Super Saiyan mode. You must slap the subject hard enough to knock your energy out of them so it can be reabsorbed into your body. There are about 15 on the list here, which I will download to your Me’tet in just a moment…” The clicking on the keyboard paused and a ding sounded out around us.

Received!

“Please be aware there are a few non-slapping assignments on that list. At least two are apologies, as your ass was quite toxic, and a possible sex magic assignment is still waiting on approval.” Oshun continued, “Okay, seems like you’re all set for the D.R. assignment…”

I sat up in my chair, “Dominican Republic?”

Duh.

“Yes, D.R. is on file as a location where a large sum of energy was transferred.” Oshun giggled, “You lil nasty! Too bad it was from an unhealed traumatic space and all that amor you were making is now an energetic debt you have with yourself. No worries, it is just the first location on the list. The team is working out how to factor in your exes, especially your ex-fiancé.”

“Lamont?” I might actually enjoy slapping the shit out of him. I flexed my pimp hand.

“Correct. Your team is in deliberation with his to decide if it is more beneficial to beat his ass or explosive word vomit and tell him all about himself.”

It was my turn to release a psycho laugh. I was feeling better already.

“As karmic partners, you both should receive a level of growth from the interaction, and so we must wait on his evaluation before a decision can be made. I voted for both!” She clapped her hands in excitement.

We are going to D.R.! Wooooooooo! Ya tú sabe!

“Wait, right now?” I asked incredulously.

Oshun rolled her eyes, “Of course, not. You need to book your flight, silly. You received a large sum of money from the Universe for this assignment. I think Dahlia put in that little stipulation at the end, make sure to thank her later.”

It was definitely, Dahlia. Sis stays ahead of the game. *laughter and high fives*

“Who are you high-fiving, Me’tet?” I was getting creeped out by all this action I couldn’t see but knew was happening.

Damn, Oshun. She doesn’t hear Dahlia, yet.

I jumped at a warm caress on my left shoulder.

Oshun clicked on the keyboard, frowing in concentration. “Hmmmm, seems like the ancestor connection block has not fully been lifted. There’s a layer of fear of the unknown that is not going to work for us. Let me see.” She stood up and pranced away to a cupboard I hadn’t noticed before, retrieved a bag, and plopped it down in front of me. Í picked it up and peeked inside.

“Mushrooms!? You’re giving me psychedelics?” I shrilled, secretly excited.

Plant medicine, friends, call them whatever. Don’t act like you’re not excited.

“Yes, dear! I told you we were on a time crunch. Take these tonight so you can fully tap in. All of them, none of that micro-dosing bullshit. We are on a spiritual mission here, mija. Don’t forget to book your flight!”

***

“Whose responsibility was it to remind this child to book her damn flight! We must stay on schedule!”

“I reminded her!”

“You know she’s slow and forgetful, Hattie.”

“And she downed that entire bag of magic mushrooms a solid 45 minutes ago…”

“Fiddlesticks! I’m on it!”

“Hurry! She’s coming into the realm!”

“Hold her off, Randy!”

“You didn’t have to hit her third eye that freaking hard, Randy, geez! We want her to be able to see, damn it!”

“I was just trying to help…”

“Freaking sadist… Dahlia, how are we on the booking?”

“Inputting card info now.”

*Third eye opening in 5… 4… 3…*

“Places everyone, here she comes!”

I felt like someone had punched me in the middle of my forehead. Damn. I blinked a few times, trying to make my eyes adjust to the swirling breathing colors that used to be my room. And then I saw them. Woah. “Uh, hello, everyone.”