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There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.

And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.

In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.

The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

(Source: thegodmolecule)

hollyjollypanties:

ayee-aishaaah:

letsgetfuckedup123:

de-mentophobia:

madeofdoom:

improbablenormality:

noticemeimbroken:

katonwolf:

ximjustinlovex:

sleeping-with-theveil:

allyykatt:

 

I’m a lesbian so i must have a crush on every girl i see.

I have alot of guy friends so i must be fucking every single one of them.

I smile alot, so i must have the perfect life.

I listen to reggae, so I must be a stoner.

My opinion matters, so I must be a bitch.

I’m comfortable with my body, so I get around?

I’m friends with a lot of guys, so I’ve must have hooked up with all of them.

I like to help out, so I must be a suck up.

I’m black, so I must be ghetto.

I’m black, so I must be stupid.

I’m Mexican, so I must be low class.

I’m bisexual, so I must get around.

I’m straight up blunt, so I must be a bitch.

I like to drink, so I must be an alcoholic.

I don’t hang out with guys, so I must be a lesbian.

I cut myself so I must be emo.

I’m bisexual, so none of my girl friends can feel safe.

I laugh and smile, so I cannot be depressed.

I like spending my day at home, so I don’t have any friends

I am gay, so i must be bullied

I am trans, so I must be a freak.

Most of my friends are dudes, so I must be a tomboy.

I’m on Tumblr, so I must have zero friends in real life

I’m a Muslim, so I must be a terrorist

I make alot of mistakes so I must be stupid/retarded.

I strongly defend LGBT so I must be gay.

I’m from a broken family, so I must be a rebel.

I like rasta colors, so I must smoke weed.

I’ve had sex, so I must be a slut.

I’ve made mistakes, so I must be untrustworthy.

I really love him, so I must hold on.

I’m a Filipino, so I must be a maid.

I really love him, so I must be taken for granted.

I’m a Politician, so I must be corrupt.

I’m Blonde, so I must be really stupid.

I’m wearing a black shirt, so I must be emo.

I wear make up, so I must be a flirt.

I make alot of mistakes, so I must be hated.

I am a teenager, so I must be misunderstood.

“Forever reblogg”.

Wow this

this is perfect wow

I’m a Christian, so I must hate gays

I have big boobs, so I must dress like a whore

I’m overweight, so I must be fat

I’m not a big talker, so I must have no friends

I’m homeschooled, so I must be a loner

I like country music, so I must be a redneck

I like pop music, so I must be a floozy

I’m Black so I must like watermelon, kool aid, and fried chicken

I’m Mexican so I must hang out at home depot

I’m Irish so I must be drunk

I’m German so I must be hitler

I love this.

I have Aspergers, so I must be socially awkward

I’m in university, so I must be an arrogant know- it all

I like Disney, so I must be a kid. 

I’m a geek, so I must be exactly like those guys on the Big Bang theory. 

I have kinks, so I must be a pervert.

I’m masculine, so I must love all guy stuff.

I don’t wear makeup for school, so I must be lazy.

I think gender is fucking stupid, so I must be uncomfortable with my gender identity.

I wear makeup, So I must be a cake face.

Wow

I absolutely love this. Amen

I like anime so I must be a weeaboo.

I’m a brony so I must be a clopper.

I’m a lesbian so I must never had a boyfriend before.

I have phobias so I must be afraid of everything.

I have anxiety disorder so I must be afraid of going out in public.

I’m not religious so I must be athiest.

I’m not athletic so I must be lazy.

drrtyfilthygorgeous:

only-slightly-insane:

finn-stagram:

orangemuses:

why don’t murderers just hide the bodies in cemeteries

tumblr: teaching your children how to successfully murder people since 2010

excuse me, this post is actually teaching us how to successfully evade the law after murdering someone.

we don’t need to be taught how to murder people.

Supernatural taught me how to do that really successfully. 

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