Finding Liberation and Healing Through Mindfulness Meditation

“Where does it hurt?” 

it answered

everywhere

everywhere

everywhere.

 

This powerful excerpt from Warsan Shire’s poem titled “What They Did Yesterday Afternoon” resonates deeply with how many activists  experiece this unequal, violent and unjust world. As an African feminist, my life has been a relentless journey for liberation and justice, battling against the numerous ways our bodies, minds, and spirits have been scarred by systemic oppression. 

 

Yet, amid the protests, organizing, and the chaotic whirlwind of late nights and early mornings, a disquiet began to swell within me. Burnout loomed like a shadow, whispering that something essential was missing from my life and work.

 

The realization hit me like a wave: genuine transformative social justice cannot flourish if we neglect self-care and collective healing. We cannot pour from an empty cup, especially when the wounds of injustice run so deep. 

The words of Audre Lorde, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare,” became my guiding light—a reminder that nurturing ourselves is vital in the fight for freedom.

 

Thus began my exploration, a personal quest for well-being. I dove into silent retreats, hatha yoga, and various mindfulness practices, seeking solace amidst the stresses of activism. Journaling became my sanctuary, a space where I could articulate the tangled feelings and thoughts that arose as I navigated this uncharted territory. Through self-reflection, I began to see the powerful connection between inner peace and outer change.

This journey, however, was not without its hurdles. During my Vipassana retreat, I found my mind—so accustomed to the frantic pace of activism—struggling to find stillness. Wandering thoughts became unwelcome companions during my meditation sessions. 

On those cold days, as I endured long hours of sitting in silence, I became painfully aware of the discomfort in my hip. This pain ultimately led to surgery later but it also acted as a crucial wake-up call. I realized how often we disassociate from our pain, suppressing it as we press on through life. And yet, even amidst struggle and unease, I discovered unexpected growth and surprising lessons. 

I once joked with a friend that, during some of the most challenging moments, I started to learn how to be pain literate—understanding what it was teaching me, how it was altering me, and learning to sit with it in acceptance rather than pushing back and suffering even more. 

And so journaling after that retreat took a renewed meaning, from a mere intellectual exercise into an portal inward, allowing me to observe, listen and process the feelings that surged some from way back when which really unnerved me during those deep meditative experiences.

 

I uncovered the profound power that comes from acknowledging pain and creating space for compassion, acceptance, and peace—this was truly life-changing. I am thankful for all those who continue to help me and support me in this journey… to know that there are phenomenal African womn and gender diverse healing practitioners out there offering their craft using a feminist and trauma-informed approach is heartening. 

 

Here, in this nurturing space, I uncovered the synergy of radical self-love and healing—not merely as a pathway to individual well-being but as a foundation for effective activism: presence, compassion, and resilience. This journey has been a kind of spiritual awakening and practice, reconnecting me to my body, heart, mind, and the nature around me. It allowed me to tend to my wounds with gentleness and understanding.

 

Even more enriching was the community I found along the way. In mindfulness courses, I connected with people from diverse backgrounds, each bringing unique perspectives and experiences. We shared personal anecdotes, reflecting on our practices, and the hurdles we faced in maintaining consistent routines amidst the busyness of life. This community support became invaluable, a reassuring reminder that we walk this healing path together.

 

As Wangari Maathai eloquently said, “It’s the little things citizens do. That’s what will make the difference. My little thing I’m doing is planting trees.” In my context, that “little thing” is seeding our consciousness towards wholeness and well-being, hoping a plush forest thrives when the season is right and we witness more and more people around us being a healing presence to themselves and each other. 

 

Something I carry with me as I move through is the need this innerwork is how to decolonize radical care and well-being, reclaiming these concepts from their Western interpretations and instead rooting them in our own traditions and experiences in Africa. We need to reflect on how our ancestral practices have already embodied principles that support  us to regulate our nervous systems amid trauma and pain, anchoring ourselves mindfully to the present, and nurturing our intricate sense of interconnectedness in our resistance and fight for justice.

As I delved deeper into the principles of mindfulness, I noticed striking parallels with the core tenets of African cultures of care. Both philosophies emphasize the profound interconnectedness of our lives, where our individual liberation is inextricably linked to the liberation of others. They cherish empathy and compassion, reminding us of the importance of nurturing ourselves, our communities, and the natural world that sustains us in our collective quest for justice. At the heart of both lies a profound commitment to justice and equality, beautifully captured in the concept of Ubuntu: “I am because we are.” This idea underlines the interconnected nature of our struggles and healing as we strive for a fairer world.

 

The insights I’ve gained from mindfulness aren’t always immediate; they require time to seep into my daily life. But gradually, I’m starting to weave mindfulness into the fabric of my existence. I approach community meetings with a heightened sense of presence, truly listening to others' voices. I’m learning to navigate conflict with compassion, seeking to understand before jumping to conclusions. Sure, I don't always get it right, but I find comfort in knowing there's always space to recognize when I’ve strayed and an invitation to begin anew.

 

Embracing the messiness of being human has led me to the Zen Buddhist philosophy of Shoshin, or "beginner's mind." This mindset has replaced my former habits of self-judgment with a spirit of curiosity. I've come to realize that curiosity is a vital bridge connecting us, offering a sense of belonging that many of us long for. Its a second chance, again and again, for me that spells hope and there are times such as these that all we need to feel is a sense of hope not to totally get swept off by despair.

 

I’m continually uncovering a wellspring of resilience within myself—a capacity to tackle the challenges of activism without succumbing to burnout. This practice extends beyond me, cultivating a culture of care in our movements and relationships, which is essential for sustaining our work in the long run. When we begin to see our collective well-being as integral to our liberation, we can shift the pain and chaos unfolding around the world.

 

Of course, maintaining care and well-being practices while juggling the demands of activism is a constant challenge. Yet, I’m learning to be adaptable, finding ways to make my practice fit my circumstances. We're aiming to build thriving African feminist movements where vulnerability is celebrated as strength and where tending to our wounds signals resilience rather than weakness in our fight for justice.

 

I’m currently training to become a mindfulness meditation teacher, seeing this as deeply entwined with my activism and my whole life. It's a vital part of my journey as I uncover the parts of myself that are hurt, hidden, or rejected—each deserving of space and healing. This journey is about cultivating the inner resources we need to foster a more just and compassionate world. It’s about finding liberation within ourselves and tending to our individual and collective wounds so that we can emerge as more effective agents of change.

 

And this journey is ever-evolving. I am constantly learning, growing, and exploring new ways to integrate mindfulness into my life and work. I embrace the challenges, struggles, and insights that have shaped my path so far. 

I am excited to see where this journey leads next.