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Ore mi atata: My important friend

Ifasola, a dear brother and friend


“Ore me atata” means my dear friend – or my important friend. That’s how my close friend and brother, Ifasola, greets me when he calls. He’s pictured with his eyes closed in this photo. I’ve known him for more than 13 years. He was one of my first Yoruba language instructors. I would meet him at his house for private lessons. To my delight, sometimes the lessons came along with meals: obe eja ati isu (fish stew in a spicy tomato sauce and thick slices of yams).

Ifasola is important to me not just because of our friendship – but because he serves as a translator for Aseda, the elder in the trailer. (Both Ifasola and Aseda are in the trailer). When Aseda consults Ifa and has important messages to relay to me, Ifasola delivers the messages. Though I’ve learned to speak Yoruba over the years, I don’t speak the Ife dialect – the dialect that is native to Aseda. (Yoruba has more than 20 dialects and just because you’re Yoruba doesn’t mean you can understand all of them).

I think of Ifasola and all of the elders as part of the “King’s River” crew. This film doesn’t stand a chance without their full support. On a spiritual level, with the help of the orisas, they ensure things go smoothly and help open doors for us. Before we return to Africa to begin major production on this film, they will do a spiritual evaluation of the entire film crew to ensure they’re up to the task and that the mission is successful. They will also eliminate anyone they don’t feel is right for the project.

My friendship with Ifasola is a powerful one but it hasn’t been an easy one. I’ve had to learn to trust the guidance of Aseda and the orisas. This means following through with “ebos” (spiritual rituals/sacrifices) from time to time to protect my family and/or others that I love when circumstances demand it My friendship with Ifasola has also taught me that no culture has a monopoly on wisdom. Yes, we have a a lot to learn from the ancient world – but the ancient world has a lot to learn from us as well. May we all be good students.

Jagun Jagun : The Warrior

Man Playing Wedding During a Wedding Ceremony in Nigeria


“The constant soldier is never unready, even once/ This was the teaching of Ifa for Igbin, the snail, the courteous one./ Who was going to engage Ekun, the leopard in a sudden fight./ They said that Ekun was always ready for battle, and that Igbin should not engage him. One whom we cannot engage in battle, we leave to the Lord of Heaven” -Owonrin Otura, Sacred Verse of Ifa

This passage from our sacred texts sums up how I feel – or what I've become after being on the journey of this film for so long – a warrior who has become conditioned by time and adversity to stop at nothing. A warrior that has been conditioned by the elders in Africa to zero in on a target – and to remain focused until we hit that target. No matter what obstacles appear along the way – no matter how many times the warrior might be abandoned – or “left for dead.”

There is no vision without fire – the fire of adversity – the fire of doubt, the fire of loss – yet I believe the fire of our vision makes us better people – stronger and more resourceful. All who dare to fulfill the dream they've been entrusted with must befriend fire – and warriorship. What fire are you willing to confront? When?

To Cross A King’s River

Stone sculptures in Osun Grove in Osogbo, Nigeria


There's not a single reason why you should not be following your dreams – the mission that you feel you came to earth to fulfill. Every excuse you offer is just that – an excuse. But all excuses are invalid. There is only one right answer – you will do what your soul instructs you to do.

That's how I interpret the Yoruba proverb that inspires me so much it became the title of the film. The proverb says: “A command from a king cannot be refused/ The King has sent the command/ The river is deep/ A command from a King cannot be refused.”

In traditional Yoruba culture, kings are considered sacred. But I interpret the king as a metaphor for the soul – the higher force that has sent all of us on a mission. “The river is deep” implies that there's a potential for danger; we could even die in the process. But the proverb ends by reminding us that there is no choice but to follow through with the command.

To me this proverb hints at a higher way of living our lives – a more courageous way of being in a world that has lost touch with its soul. I've come to believe that many of us have become so used to living without vision that we think it's normal – we have become so used to living without dedication to anything and unfortunately we think that's normal too.

A closer walk with your vision – a closer walk to who you are. That's what I hope this film will deliver to you.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Aseda, one of the 16 Major Ifa Diviners in the World


The image has been haunting me for days. The image of cancer eating away at Gene – my next door neighbor. An elderly man, a big, strapping man who until recently, seemed to be in good health. In my mind's eye, I still see him bustling about in the backyard, whistling and calling out to me from time to time from over the wooden fence. And I'll never forget all the times he tried to flirt with Stephanie, my wife. (I thought it was cute)

But that wasn't the man we found two days ago. Claudette, Gene's wife, called Stephanie and I to help lift him off the floor and back into bed. He groaned in agony; both feet were swollen. He was still dressed in pajamas and was barely able to recognize us.

As I looked at Gene I couldn't help but think of the elders in Nigeria – Aseda and Agbonbon – two master Ifa diviners that you'll meet in the film. I thought about them and I thought about all the ebos, the sacrifices they've done over the years to protect me and family from health problems and other disasters. At times it was hard for me to fully appreciate all their work because it can be expensive. (Although I would thank them, inside I would also grumble).

Gene's sudden deterioration was yet another reminder about how fragile this existence is – and how nothing must be taken for granted. Not this minute – not the next. His bout with cancer also inspires me to learn more about my elders and their lifelong commitment to Ifa and the healing arts. I am filled with gratitude. Where the elders and the orisas lead, I will follow.

The Day of Clarity

Sunset At Haypenny Beach


I took this photograph on a beach in southern St. Croix, Virgin Islands. This photo stirs up powerful memories of the “Day of Clarity.” That's the day I told my cousin, David, about my future as an Ifa priest and diviner. I'm not there yet – but this future was revealed to me in a divination session that was performed by an Ifa diviner who happened to be visiting Oakland, California many years ago. In that session Ifa revealed my name – not the name that my parents gave me, but the name I brought when I arrived from the spirit world. I gleaned so much insight about myself and future in that reading that I'll never forget.

David listened intently. He was the first family member (outside of my immediate family) that I shared this story with. He told me that my future as a diviner doesn't have to be complicated. He said I could live in a shack and do readings for people all day long. Somehow I felt relieved that he was so supportive, and later that day we went to the beach.

It was a hot day. The beach was completely deserted. We didn't have swimming trunks so we swam nude. I'll never forget how warm the water was that afternoon. It was bubbly and comforting. I felt nurtured and supported by the earth. I call this “The Day of Clarity” because it felt like a new beginning. In revealing who we are, we give birth to a deeper part of ourselves – the part of our soul that has no desire to be imprisoned by fear or the opinions of others ever again.