For the past three months, I have been in the company of Bob Shanti youth at the college where I work. We have been reasoning about Marcus Garvey and the methods we should use to educate the students about Baba Garvey's life and work.
The Bobo Shanti youth are well spoken and have a serene gentleness about them--a stark contrast to many of their peers. These Bobo Shanti are excellent ambassadors of Rastafari. I've also been drawn to how they greet each other and me with the words: "Blessed Love." It's grown on me in ways I didn't realize until yesterday when I was shopping at our local supermarket.
As I was browsing the vegetarian meals, I was so focused on finding a particular offering that I lost track of my surroundings. When I finally found what I was looking for, I turned around and came face-to-face with a dread who was apparently shopping in the same aisle. I didn't know the mansion of his affiliation, but when our eyes met, I instinctively uttered the words, "Blessed Love." The dread returned the blessing and I accepted it with an open heart.
We went our separate ways. But I tell you, giving the blessings that moved through me felt much better than receiving one in return. I could have left the store without receiving a blessing from the dread and felt the same way. Still, it was good to be blessed by the dread.
I will also tell you, in the moment I said those words, I was changed. I don't know how. I just felt lighter, at peace, and blessed by my gift to the dread.
Blessed love, my brothers and sisters. Blessed love.
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