Join me on the Front Porch! Today, we slow down together and learn a simple, powerful practice for rewiring the mind toward what nourishes us. Using four steps — seeing the good, naming the good, staying with the good, and claiming the good — we explore how neuroplasticity becomes a tool of healing, resilience, and liberation for Black folks living in predominantly white spaces.

With Auntie Octavia by our side and sweet tea in hand, we talk about why our brains have been trained to scan for danger, why that's not a flaw but a survival skill, and how learning to gather the good can shift our health, our joy, our relationships, and even our generational inheritance.

This episode is soft, honest, and deeply ancestral — a moment to breathe, reset, and remember that joy is our birthright.

You ain't imagining this.

Ama-Robin's Book Selection:

Every Day Spirit: A Daybook of Wisdom, Joy, and Peace by Mary Davis

Affirmations:

In this final audio walkthrough of Nommo books, we'll go behind the story of the past audios and why we built Nommo Books in YAIT Town.

Listen to this Nommo Books Story about the boy who wouldn't leave the library

I remember the first time I stepped into Nommo Books.
The air was warm, thick with the smell of paper and cardamom tea.
Rain had followed me all the way from the corner, and when I closed the door behind me, the city seemed to exhale and go quiet.

Inside, the light was soft and amber.
A record player somewhere in the back was spinning a Coltrane ballad that wrapped itself around the room–I could tell it was a record because of the distinct crackling sound! I love hearing the sax and the crackling.
I stood for a moment just to listen.
Otherwise, the store was silent. But it wasn't a silence that told you to whisper or walk softly — it was a silence that said, safe.

The shelves were tall and full, but nothing about them felt still.
The names on the spines — Morrison, Baldwin, Sanchez, Butler — seemed to hum together, low and steady, like a choir warming up.
I ran my hand along the wooden shelves, and my anticipation jumped with the thought of having access to so much brilliance at my fingertips.

Then something familiar but not experienced for a long time grabbed my attention.

Off to my left, there was a small circle of elders gathered around a wide wooden table near the front window. Newspapers were spread out beside mugs of coffee, and the conversation moved easily between laughter and low debate — about politics, about the neighborhood, about what the grandkids were up to. It felt like home, like the kind of talk that keeps a community connected thru generations..

Farther back, through a half-open doorway, I glimpsed the Story Room. Bright pillows scattered across the floor, children sitting cross-legged while someone read aloud from a picture book. Their voices rose and fell with the rhythm of the tale, and their laughter spilled into the hallway like sunlight.

Near the center of the shop stood the Book-of-the-Month table. A notebook lay open beside a stack of novels wrapped with twine, filled with handwritten notes from readers — "This line broke me open." "Read this one slow." "Reminded me of my mama."

And by the door, a cork bulletin board overflowed with flyers: a poetry reading, a rent-strike meeting, a drumming class, a healing circle. Nommo Books wasn't just a store; it was the town's bulletin of living, breathing connection.

That's when I saw her.

Ms. Geneva Carter, behind the counter, wearing a deep purple scarf and glasses that caught the lamplight.
She didn't rush to greet me.
She looked up, smiled like she already knew me, and her eyes said,

"You're welcome.. Take your time. The story you need will call your name when it's ready."

I nodded, understanding that I didn't need to speak my thoughts outloud.

There was a kettle steaming somewhere, and the sound of pages turning, and the faint click of someone typing notes on a keyboard..
I found a seat near the window, beside a stack of used paperbacks bound with twine.
Outside, the rain kept time against the glass.

For a while, I just sat there.
I read a little, then looked up, then read again.
A woman laughed softly in the next aisle.
Someone hummed a hymn I half-remembered from childhood.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was part of the sound — not intruding, not surviving, just belonging.

Before I left, Ms. Carter slipped a small bookmark into my hand.
On it, she'd written, You are never alone in a Black bookstore.
I keep it with me still — a reminder that our stories are waiting,
and that home can be found in the turning of a page.

You're never alone in a Black bookstore.

Let me welcome you to the warm and peaceful hub that is Nommo books with this audio walk-through experience.

In this first part, we step inside and breathe in the scent of coffee and sandalwood.

Books line the shelves like friends waiting to be introduced, Sometimes you'll even find a handwritten note tucked inside — a quote, an affirmation, a reminder that you belong.

Nommo Books is more than a bookstore; it's a heartbeat of memory, resilience, and imagination

This special Comforting Moment invites you to pause the noise, settle your spirit, and rest in the calm rhythm of the harvest season.

In YAIT Town, the air is cool, the garden is quiet, and the work is finally done.

Here, we practice the art of receiving and releasing—taking in what still nourishes us, letting go of what no longer serves us, and blessing it all with gratitude.

Through gentle narration and grounding soundscapes, storyteller Ama-Robin guides you into stillness—where breath slows, shoulders soften, and the mind unclenches.

This isn't a story about doing more; it's a reminder that enough has already been done.

Wherever you are, let this be your sacred pause.

Come rest in the calm.

Come gather your peace.

This week in YAIT Town, we walk together to the Community Garden—the heart of our village and the keeper of quiet wisdom.

The rows are slower now, the air cooler, and the season is asking hard but necessary questions:

• What is still feeding you?
• What have you outgrown?
• What are you carrying that no longer needs to travel with you?

In this YAIT Story, "The Gathering," Ama-Robin meets Mama Abena among the collards, sage, and falling leaves to learn the art of harvesting without hurry—of knowing when to hold on and when to let go.

Through story and reflection, we explore what it means to gather only what nourishes and to release what has already served its purpose.

Come breathe, listen, and gather what's truly yours to keep.
Welcome home to YAIT Town.

YAIT Town isn't on any map — it's a Black sanctuary built from story, memory, and imagination. In this special episode, sistah-host Ama-Robin invites you to be among the first to walk its streets and feel its rhythm.

The tour begins on the front porch where we meet, connect, and recharge together. Then we will visit a Black-centered bookstore that lights up the main street, our soul-centered café that fills the air with laughter and cornbread, the George Washington Carver Community Garden where freedom grows from the soil, and our barber-beauty shop that hums with clippers and community.

YAIT Town is more than just a "place" — it's a way of coping, healing, and building together.

This is a Black town — a digital sanctuary for our stories, our joy, our rest, and our wholeness. In this opening walk through YAIT Town, you'll hear the sounds of children playing, feel the peace of the porch light, and know without a doubt: you belong here.

Come take the first walk. The porch light's already on.

You never walk it alone.

You ain't imagining this!