Confessions of an Indigenous Goddess

I spent nearly 20 years running from my Spiritual Healing path… 

A healing mind with action 

First let me say I’ve been healing myself and family since I was awakened to do so in high school back in the late 80s. I’ve maintained a balance of healing throughout my life. I even have a handful or so people who have thanked me for touching, teaching, healing, assisting, inspiring their lives on some level through my own example (teaching). But there is a much deeper level that I have not shared with many people. This is the hidden parts of myself. Some parts of self that I shared for a small time on Facebook that takes healing to a much deeper level. 

Subconscious Healing 

On the surface, there are herbs to take, food recipes to share, facts and wisdom that are both books learned and researched. Some traditions I’ve experienced have been communal and shared among tribes in my community. The much deeper level, however, originates from spirit, from the soul and deep subconscious wisdom one taps into from outer worldly resources. These are also gifts that culminate with knowledge and wisdom. It is befitting during this Gemini time amid great awakening and change on this planet to share and even expose the hidden, shadowy parts of myself. As we are claiming and reclaiming Self, I too, reclaim all of myself back into alignment and into the brightness of this ancient new sun. 

Why the name Indigenous Goddess 


There are reasons why I call myself “Indigenous Goddess.” On a much deeper level the name is a symbol of ancestors and lineage who were annihilated and destroyed. Those who were nearly forgotten but kept alive in my bones in this incarnation. It is my duty to bring light, voice and healing to their names. All the knowing and memory that I coined the “old ways” “the ancient ways” so for all the women in my lineage who were voiceless and suffered horrendous atrocities forced to give up names, rituals, family members, identities, walked across lands, crossed waters, sold, and relabeled. I realize we all have our debts to pay, our cycles to live, our lessons to learn and triumph, but no matter— as a sovereign being you must claim who and what you are, stand tall, and live with purpose. 

Early years — psychic gifts 

The first 10 years of my life I literally “trained” myself through psychic exercises, I remembered from past lives so well that I would ask my sister Genaya to ask me anything, go into a mini trance like void space and tell her things that would happen the next day in her classroom. My mother would always ask me if I dreamed, what it was, and what I thought. I remember her face with clarity so serious and respectful accepting every word coming out of my adolescent mouth. Somehow, I knew how to pierce through the veils and see with my senses; eyes, third 👁 eye, smell, skin, and heightened intuition.    

Lineage of Seers and Shamanistic Gifts 

Many of the women in my family, young and old, shared the gift of seeing “spirits.” Cousins from Guadeloupe 🇬🇵, my mother, nieces, probably grandmothers and aunts long buried and forgotten. Black confederate soldiers, Indigenous chiefs, Victorian women, Ancestors, for me, I’d also see déités and mythological gods. Always with messages or teachings, warnings, or asking for help if souls had been trapped between planes on Earth and in need of safe passage. Often, I would be told the history of that land I slept on like a scene in a movie. If there was a home constructed on property that had some tragic historical event, the dead would show up in the house needing some resolve. In those days, I might view a spirit while my mother and niece would also see the same spirit at other times and rooms. 

In one conversation, sharing a dream I had visiting Arizona, my aunt interrupted saying, “that sounds like something from Carlos Castaneda books!” My experience in Arizona, prior to visiting and returning, had been so mystical I would have not believed it had I not seen the exact same music 🎶 store I had witnessed in my dream and a bus driver smirking “Oh I see you had a vision quest.” Leaving me further shocked, validated and confused with reality.

Forced Assimilation and Rejection of Shamanism 

Still then, my gifts seemed odd and conflicting during decades where such supernatural experiences were ridiculed and hushed. Gifts such as these had been practically erased from our genealogical lineage through painful and desperate assimilation of religion, Catholicism, Christianity, Jehovah’s Witness ideology, let alone, academic and scholastic indoctrination heavily influenced by European psychology and white supremacy. These anti-indigenous views resulted not only in my own personal crisis, but often conflicts in my familial relationships.  If I said I remembered past lives and could “travel” —both Earth through portals and contact outerworldly planetary beings, or “that I was from Spdet because we are stars having a human experience”  I’d get a “what’s wrong with your daughter” comment or “you’re a weird bitch” from my sister. 

The more authentic I was to my Highest Self, the greater the wedge between family grew. It was a heartbreaking paradox. And so, I conformed until I went into utter silence. I cannot place ANY blame, however, on family, because I was so afraid of these gifts, my own power, and their responsibilities that I chose silence as an excuse rather than walking fully in my inheritance on this planet. 

It is through many years in this painful duality that today I fully admit: My purpose here is healer, is helper, is teacher because my Soul (Sol☀️) is “that old” and I come from women who carry these gifts of knowing in their wombs.  

Embarking on Eldership – Auset Wisdom 

At this age, embarking myself, on eldership, at the crone stage, at the Auset stage, and seeing this great shift where others are awakening I can no longer stand by  and pretend to assimilate to a dying dream that was paradoxically illusory (and rotten) from its conception; it’s closer to insanity than the latter. 😀

Conflicts with Recognizing Shamanism 

For some reason, Shamanism was something Blacks just did not talk about or recognize even in most sisterhood communities. I remember being in Queen Afua’s Sacred Women course in 2000 and one exercise from her book 📖was to envision a picture of a hieroglyph. I went into full on dance twirling my body to a drum in my head where I was transported inside a temple. In class, I remember saying how the Earth was my teacher and the animals having sacred messages. Not a single word of shamanism was EVER uttered. 

Identity Shared Among Other Tribal Native Americans 

The only recognizable moment I received was from a Cherokee woman who stated strongly that “we were relatives!” Ironically the sister I had driven with had family records of being from Oklahoma tribes, yet I don’t recall the same kind of greeting that I received that day. I had entered her sweat lodge by first hugging 🤗 what felt to me to be a “giant crystal” literally a mountain she had built her home on. Even then when she called me a relative, saying she knew me, and hugging me I couldn’t fully understand or recognize all she was revealing. I was taught that I was African in school, by Marcus Garvey, Black leaders, and absolutely through repetitive American academic and legal institutional policy. Yet, consciously, I was African, while subconsciously and spiritually, I was following the ways of my indigenous ancestors whom I didn’t even know! Not one family member had spoken of ANY indigenous lineage accept on my mother’s fathers Guadeloupe side. Through early deaths of my grandma and family estrangement these oral histories were lost, forgotten and buried. It wasn’t until I had a dream of an ancestor on my father’s mothers’ side on American soil that showed me that these Autochthonic aboriginal indigenous tribes of people existed long before the later Native Americans crossed the Bering Straits. The vision showed me prior to me researching any YouTube channel or discovering books that would show and prove this vision was fact. 

In another instance, the opening of the Native American Museum in Washington, DC, where many tribes from around the world commenced was one of the most power-filled sacred experiences. Native Americans and Autochthonic Indigenous Americans from North, South and Central America came together on the lawns, dancing, visioning, praying and claiming. These tribes showed up in every color from dark Ethiopian jet black, to various shades of copper colored, to near white, decked in feathers, and paint from their regions. I remember an elder Blackfoot coming to me speaking in Algonquin language. He had a cowboy hat with a bushy afro and spoke to me like a wise elder would speak to his kin. What struck me most during this event was that every so-called race melted into oneness. Everyone acknowledged the other. In that vortex, for that moment the land under our feet felt like ‘home.’ 

Being Called Out, Questioning Black Identity 


It was the same “shock” I had while living in New York in the mid – late 90s.  I had visited a Rasta store carrying my Kupigani Ngumi book when the Rasta elder asked “why” I had the book in the first place. The questioned statement left me momentarily speechless. For in my eyes, I had ALWAYS been African, always “Black” — wearing Bantu-knots, carrying Ankh’s, wearing headwraps, and kente fabrique. But this brother looked me in my eyes and said, “You’re Native American not African!” It felt like a blow, a dagger of betrayal. Perhaps he saw my Spirit, an Ancestor, lineage of generations forgotten that at that time I was not well-read enough to see! 

I looked at my Peruvian llama poncho, the tree printed african fabrique, and red and white checked shirt as “African” garb back then. I didn’t fully understand “why” I felt so kinnected to the indigenous Americans AND African culture. In my mind I was both without question!! My collage artwork showed 2 continents of land and water, of the Indigenous of the Americas and the East African tribal clans wearing both Feathers🦅 and Leopards 🐆 and carrying the drum. Still then in the late 90s, there were no Dane Calloway’s, no Kurimeo Ahau, or Dr Alim Bey and there was no YouTube “university” or Elders who would teach me about my heritage, shamanism or unique gifts. But then shamanism is that way— you are often taught through dreams, through visions, through connections with animal spirits, elemental beings and “gods”. 

Acceptance and Surrender 

Perhaps, today I can fully open myself to accept and learn the power and potentiality of these gifts and help others! 💜☀️ to fully face my fears as the real mental illness albeit illusory in its very nature in hopes of completing this hero’s journey of greater realization. Being my Highest Self and living My Truth are acts of rebellious revolutionary love❤️ I am ready to tread even if that means I am alone 😉.  Friday, June 2020 (2012). 

In Love and Fortitude, 


Published by Hi, I’m Daria.


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