I don't know where this is going as it is my first. I have only a vague idea of what this blog is to be about and how I am to accomplish that. I don't know what you will get out of this if anything at all. It is my place to be completely selfish and deal with only what is on my mind. Trace my own growth as I progress...my Kumbla. I will not share my kumbla it is my secret. My protective shell, my comfort, my cocoon. Thank you Erna Brodber (Jamaican writer and my teacher of short story writing @ Mona Campus Jamaica) for this reference it is one I can snuggle into and feel at home.
Sometimes a kumbla can protect you from the worst of things and I wish mine would act just the way I want it to. Offer me a place to escape to and be myself. A place to feel freely. A place to hold on to my spirit wrapping till the essence flows out of it. A place that warms my spirit's sight like the first kisses of the sun. A place of love.
There is a love that seems to consume while lightening. It's an initial feeling that comes across you quite unexpectedly, and takes your spirit clear out of your body and rising in front of your face. There is only so far your eyes can follow it, though somehow you still see everything. You see every step in the travelling. It's a love that takes you so far inside of yourself that you see you for the first time, really see YOU. It's a love the fates laugh at its loss as they watch your spirit settle back down, shift slightly in place and sink into a darkening air. It's the one you get once and never again. "Go eena Kumbla."
The difficult thing about the kumbla is knowing when to emerge. It is difficult to know when u have changed or developed just enough to be ready for what is next. Anything protected too long loses the instinct of defense, it becomes frail and sickly, hugging death with a familiarity all too severe.
"Go eena Kumbla."
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