Also known as Ga-Pa-shi?
When I was in high school, there was a weird language developed by a group of boys. The only two words I remember are “Eddeh” and “ga-pa-shi.” The first one, pronounced Ed Day became a huge success in getting one over on teachers. Ed Day became a person at some point who turned up on roles for field trips. The teacher at the front of the bus would inevitably call out the name Ed Day, and the entire bus would break out in laughter. The second phrase meant got a pile of shit?
Enter the black man.
Fast forward to today, June 13, 2025:
I’ve been talking to our dead, our ancestors, our angels – whatever you want to call them for two years now. As it turns out, some of them have been following me in something akin to a social media account. Just like here on this plane, some of them are just hanging out with family and such, but some are like me and find their true value in doing the work. The work looks different for different people, but the people who are interested in personal growth, both theirs and others, are the specific people I’m talking about.
For this particular post, I’m going to focus on the black community. I haven’t had a chance to ask them (because we’ve been busy) what it felt like to be following the metaphysical social media of a sixty plus year old white woman, but here we are. I think we do our best work with and for people when we don’t know they’re watching. They get to witness our most authentic self.
It was two plus years ago, when I called on all our dead to witness the conflict between me and the mix of demons that descended on me in earnest for a full on possession. We all have our own personal demons while some of us have a dedicated team. Lucky fucking me?
To say we got off on some rocky footing as a group would be putting it lightly. Here is this woman telling us about how we are going to have to let our own children go if we want to make it as a people. We all have family members who are societal deadbeats and bottom feeders. That doesn’t mean those families will cut them off – potentially forever – but what if that’s just the guilt talking? I’m talking about those deadbeat family members are usually practiced at dishing out blame to any who might shoulder it. I have a family full of victims.
This philosophy doesn’t relate to any particular color. Every class of humans, no matter how you slice and dice them into groups, has crabs that would keep the rest of us in the pot with them. It’s something akin to dope smokers always being so free with their weed. They want/need company to validate their behavior.
We have also talked about the connection, or lack thereof, to African ancestors. There is a creator who made a video about Mexican and Indigenous people migrating over the land bridge from Asia to the Americas and at some point, they were no longer of the original group, but became something else. I asked them to consider what that might mean for them as a people. Frankly, they didn’t know what to do with that, but as things have gone in this conversation, they’ve learned to put things they don’t understand into a box called “save for later”.
There was a point when I got incredibly overwhelmed by the work that was being called for from specific groups that I started to get angry and lashing out. Think about a mama sow with more piglets than teats. A girl can get real snappy real fast.
When we finally got some footing with a little mutual trust, the road became easier for me, but far more challenging for the group. I spoke of a fabulous bit of a speech from actor Jesse Williams where he talks about the “ties that bind us.” This is something I’ve noticed for a really long time, but as a white woman never spoken into the community. I do NOT understand why the black community… I’m only going to say this the one time, “Not all blacks”…puts cars and clothing over homes, education, and sometimes even food on the table.
So we started digging deeper. Martin Luther King was in the group of people I was originally talking to along with several other leaders from the community who have passed. Dr. King and I had several exchanges, and while I don’t exactly know where we stand as of this writing.
It was after that I didn’t hear back from him specifically as a part of the whole, I went a step further and we listened to his “I have a dream speech.” The great thing about being an outsider is that I hear that speech through a different set of lenses. What I heard was a man saying he had a dream of being equal to the white man. When I try to put myself in his shoes, I can’t imagine he really wanted to sit at the table with his oppressors, but wanted a seat at the table of inclusion. From where I sit, I don’t want the oppressors at the table…ever. I don’t know how the chase for equality seems to have resulted in more of a competition than a goal.
As we went on, I have the same gift as those really great preachers called flow. I found myself peppering dog whistles into the conversations, and then waiting for the reactions. I can’t believe the changes we’ve experienced as a group. First, I’m just going to say, it takes a brave women to throw “isms” out at a group of people until they can laugh.
It’s also been pretty great because each group has been able to watch the progress of the other groups so it’s much less personal each time we gather. Today, they came in straight away and told me they were feeling a little neglected because I spent all day yesterday with the founders of HEB grocery and the Mexican community of Texas. I can’t remember exactly how it started, but I generally say something stupid, without even knowing (it’s the flow) and it usually goes something like, “You gotta learn to tap dance on their heads, like Riverdance (I’m Irish)…y’all can tap dance, right?” And I was met soundly and profoundly with laughter, accompanied by “NO YOU JUST DIDN”T” and we diffused from there.
It was an amazing day. (I’m reviewing this write up a couple weeks later. It was way more than that.)
I was having a conversation with Avery, who is a gifted seer and angel in our heavens, who is struggling with his place going forward. The message has been about letting go of “blackness” as a piece of armor – something we hang onto because of safety in numbers. He wants to work in and with the community while also trying to dissolve the barriers of the community so they can “flow” into humanity. I explained to Avery that some of us are meant to be bridges to other communities and their is no shame in becoming the full expression of who he is. Somebody has to be out on the forefront of change. Avery is one of those guys.
Fast forward in the conversation today, and he was marveling at the time I was spending with him, and I busted out with the lyrics from a song that’s been at the forefront of our experience – “Gold Digger” the Kanye/Foxx version – “She ain’t messin’ with no broke Niggers” followed by a lengthy pause to let it hit, and the whole verse became something else.
You see, Avery is a black man on a healing journey. Aren’t we all?
Everything, I mean EVERY THING we’ve been working towards is whether we experience the “light” version of lyrics/bible verse/or movie plots, or the dark. He whooped and hollered over this discovery and metaphysically gathered up his people, while I queued up the song. And on this day, I did my favorite manifestation dance, while we all reveled in our growth together.
You need to know when one is embodied by a demon, if the power of the light is strong enough, our people can overpower the demon and I am able to embody them instead, at least for a moment. They’ve been making fun of my “Wobble” for some time now, and Ed tried his best to dance with me so we could manifest a dance together and we laughed and laughed.
Why this particular headline for this post? There are shitty people who are always going to laugh at you or try to bring you down for what you’re trying to accomplish in moving the planet and its people forward. These are all those kids on a high school bus who haven’t done the work. Your response? “Ga-Pa-Shi”? And then you move right on past them…where you always were anyway.
I have to add one more thing to this conversation. Both Michael Jackson and his song, “Black or White” have been in my heart for quite some time. This seems like the place to put this. One thing that I’ve found that crosses both black and white consciousness is an unjust opinion on Michael Jackson and his lifestyle.
Seeking to understand rather than judging something we could all do better. If we could take just one minute to suspend our personal biases or opinions we would understand that man had his childhood stolen from him by his parents and as a grown-ass child myself, I understand that it was his right to live his childhood whenever he chose to do so.
This brings me to one other topic that is going to ruffle feathers. This message has been blessed by many of your ancestors…at least the ones who are concerned for our collective futures. Shame on those of us who would enrich ourselves by stealing not only the childhood, but the future health of our children. When I say this, I add my personal prejudice against the NFL where life-altering/ending injuries are always at the forefront and MJ’s parents.
Author’s Addendum:
I have committed to full transparency, even on the uncomfortable subjects, and there was an update that occurred after this writing.
If you think about the reporters we see on TV – you know, the ones who call a subject and say they are going to write and article and ask if they would like to comment before it’s published? I originally wrote this essay with a harsher view of Dr. King’s speech and his intentions, simply because I was called to publish it as is. He showed up in my consciousness space the following day with a fury. He did NOT like what I wrote and I asked if he would like to set the record straight. This corrected version is what you read above.
That said, the discussion devolved over the next 24-48 hours into something much darker. You see, I’m an expert in matching energy AND when a demon is in the wrong space, I have access to their full resume of existence (think something like Akashic records). This is what happens when they choose to invade ours.
It was in this argument, I realized that Dr. King has much better accommodations in heaven (In my father’s house are many mansions). He still has an entire retinue of people who see to his every need. Dr. King brought millions to the table of his “equality.” I happen to believe he cursed the black community with the desire to compete with the white man for equality, hence the cars and the labeled clothing.
Pointing this out to him caused next level rage as he realized his stature was probably going to be compromised. I spend a fair amount of my resting time in a “theta” state and received a dream from him where there was a pot of slivered almonds boiling on a stove top. The almonds were run through a sieve and dumped into a bowl and sat down next to an older black gentleman sitting on a park bench who then started unbuckling his pants. This man sent his “handlers” back to me (he wouldn’t deign to talk to me in person), with a message to suck his blanched nuts. I’m not sure if he meant to say his nuts were blanched, but that was the message nonetheless, and then demon energy was released on me in earnest.
What Dr. King doesn’t know is that I’ve faced the worst of the demon horde and come out victorious every. single. time.
The amazing thing about matching energy is that when a demon comes after me with the intention of kill or harm, that intention is revisited upon them by my super power- reflection.The net/net is that I’m not sure that we’ll be hearing back from Dr. King and any point in the future.
Sorry not sorry. They do it to themselves.
Here’s what I learned after-the-fact. I couldn’t make the connection between the speech and what I see today in the community. Here me when I say this” “WHEN WE GIVE PEOPLE OUR POWER, THEY CAN CONTINUE TO CAST SPELLS ON US”.
The black community, and I mean African at this point, was steeped in black magic and voodoo upon arrival on our planet. Colonization merely transferred the community from black magic to white God – who still operates from the same principles. MLK has a nice house in “heaven” because he and his people continue to cast their spell on the community. It was a big boost when the MLK Day became a federal holiday. Insert the federal government’s complicity again.
I hate this. I hate writing this. Not that anyone cares, but it’s also a burden being a person of the wrong color to point out what she feels unequivocally energetically correct about – but ofttimes it’s a forest-for-the-trees situation and I accepted that along with the role of being an energy healer. If one is to heal the energy, one doesn’t care what color it is.
As Brene Brown says, “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”
My favorite color is clear. I used to say the rainbow when I was a kid. As an adult, it’s most definitely clear.