The beauty through the scar

Upon arriving at my Aunt’s in Atlanta and sharing that doing some work at Stone Mountain was on the agenda for this visit, my cousin told me that the guy that did the carving had lived around the corner from them and had also done Mt. Rushmore. So, desecrating sacred mountains was more than just a hobby for this one. Stone Mountain is a granite dome east of Atlanta, and a bas-relief carving of Confederate leaders has been carved into it. The modern KKK was reborn at its base, with a meeting held there as recently as a year ago. 

A colleague of mine was in town from South Africa, so we made plans to go to the mountain together. Having come up during Apartheid, he was very interested in learning of the black experience here in America. 

Coming in to the park, we looked for a spot to have our lunch and be able to see the mountain. We found a picnic area and talked about some other business that needed to be sorted through. That done and bellies full, we began to introduce ourselves to the mountain and connect more deeply with it. 

Stone Mountain is a massive granite dome that raises over 800 feet above the surrounding landscape.  When we connected more deeply, powerful waves of compassion washed over me. It reminded me of the experience I’d had at my mom’s deathbed where my anger and rage and resentment had cooled, and the rains of grief washed over me and moved the soil away so that these huge cliffs of compassion arose within my heart. Strong and safe to anchor into. When we got back to my Aunt’s she told us that that granite runs under most of Atlanta. The city’s ability to navigate its own Reconstruction after being destroyed during the Civil War and lead the way for the New South made more sense to me. 

I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the carving that scarred the face of the mountain. I thought it would just make me hissing mad.  But the mountain told me it wanted me to see its beauty through the scar, so we packed up and moved around to where the carving is. 

Just pulling into the parking lot, my colleague turned and said “Do you feel that?” I did. The energy was nauseating. As we moved into a spot, it had moved into my head and was giving me a headache.  We began gathering our tools and talismen and said some prayers to resource and bring more protection on board as we stood beside the van.

There’s a large visitor center-- you have to walk around to see the scar. At the corner of the building was a huge old tree.  We were both drawn to it and moved closer.  I was feeling so much sadness and grief.  As I moved around the tree, I saw that it was weeping in several places. It had witnessed so much. Too much. Bless.

As we began to move again, my colleague said “We’re being watched”. I could feel it. There was something very strong that protected the white supremacist activities that happened there. We moved around the building and I felt the energy well up around me and try to scare and bully me. “I wish you would” I said aloud.  “You don’t know who’s sponsoring us being here. You’re not gonna like what comes at you if you come at us.” We settled in. 

Apologies to the natural forces and beings there began to flow.  So sorry that each of you has been a witness to what’s happened here. That you’ve been used and drawn upon in what’s happened here. 

Again, the energy came and told me “We don’t appreciate you folks from somewhere else coming here and telling us how to do things” 

“I’m from these parts, so you’re wrong there. My Aunt lives 20 minutes from here. My niece went to school 2 hours north of here. I was raised by the Mississippi River. The mark of her delta is on the back of my eye.  I know how you do things here, and like so many others from these parts, I’m not okay with it.”

The energy was stirring ugly parts of me. I wanted the hawks circling the scar to poop on their faces. Then, I began to hear grandmothers singing hymns, so I joined them. My colleague had also been instructed to sing, so he hummed along.  The energy began to shift.  I called Jesus in to talk to them since they did invoke his name while doing things that couldn’t be more antithetical to everything he taught and lived. 

The energy started shifting dramatically. 

I felt some of my ancestors come forward and surround me and say to the bullying energy “We’re not afraid of you anymore.” I’d opened up a healing village for Confederate-aligned ancestors a few months before leaving for the trip and they’d surprised me before leaving by presenting me with a broken Confederate shield. It had brought me to tears. I had thought the trip itself would be part of their healing process. A prospect that scared me a bit since it meant the healing needed would be on the bone. 

Something not talked about often is how the KKK also terrorized white allies. White allies were considered “race traitors” and called “n-----lovers”.  They wouldn’t string a white person up in public- since they might maybe depending on who the sheriff and judge were get prosecuted for that. But they killed whites that resisted their ways. They just had to make it look like an accident. They’d set your house on fire and stand outside with shotguns if you tried to get out. They’d run your car off the road or the bridge. Lots of bodies got dumped in rivers so the fish would get rid of the evidence for them. Living with the KKK was to live in terror- for everyone. It kept everyone quiet, and so many folks still carry that even if they don’t know why. 

As the energy continued to clear and shift, I began to see how the men involved in the KKK were trapped in a web of very bad stories. Bad stories about race. Bad stories about why the Civil War was being fought. Bad stories about what it meant to be a man. Stories that isolated them. Stories that painted them into impossible corners. Stories that pushed them to make decisions that their hearts were ripped up by, but they didn’t see any other way out or through. 

“You don’t have to live like this,” I told them. “I can see that you’re trapped in a web. There is a way out of it though. You don’t have to live like this.” I could feel the fear and despair. “The way out is scary. You’ll have to be vulnerable. It's going to be uncomfortable. But it's not any scarier than how you’re already living.”  

The thing about being in a terror group, is that the terror is not just outside the circle. They don’t just see, but enact the terminal violence for those that fall outside the bounds of what’s acceptable to the group.  They know what happens to those that move against how things are done. The nature of these groups is that they get more extreme and more paranoid as time goes on. Part of the dynamic is having to prove you’re a True Believer. That you’re not a plant or a mole. The members have to move against themselves more and more to maintain their status. To escape the violence they enact on others. It's a terrifying way to live. You’re never safe. 

“It’s not any scarier than how you’re already living. There is another way. There is a way to live to get the belonging that you need. To get the love that you crave. To get the acceptance that you long for.  You’re never going to get it here. It’ll never be yours like this.”

My colleague saw that the mountain is a portal, and the scar had been put there to obscure it. To get people to see ugliness when they saw it- whether it was ugliness they aligned with or not-- it's there to deflect. 

I hope you’ll visit Stone Mountain someday and see the beauty there. Feel the compassion that is the essence of that magnificent mountain. See the view into a world that your heart longs to live in.  Strengthening the true essence of that place is a way to tend it. To keep the bullying energy that wants to take over at bay. To build the world we want to live in. A world where we are indeed viewed for the content of our character, and we have the freedom to develop and use the gifts and talents Creator laid within us. Where we find the belonging and love that we all need and deserve. 

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