Mindfully with Tunmise, The Podcast is a weekly talk/interview show that seeks to promote mental health awareness by demystifying perceived mysteries surrounding mental health stability. The show features personal stories from Tunmise, who lives with Bipolar II and also collects stories from individuals from all walks of life. The conversations aim to answer questions surrounding mental health myths and promote living mindfully through self-compassion and showing up instead of perfection. The show also features resource experts to provide a balanced explanation to each question raised. The target audience includes young adults, parents, and middle-aged citizens who are struggling with self-esteem, identity conflicts, cultural conflicts, existential questions and resolving relational conflicts. Mindfully with Tunmise. The show's mission is to encourage people to live mindfully, tell their stories, and promote self-compassion. The show's duration is between 30 to 60 minutes per episode, and it can be accessed at all podcast platforms and at www.blackhemages.com
Grief has a way of shrinking your identity until the worst thing that happened becomes the loudest thing about you. We start there, with Naomi returning home after famine and loss, refusing her old name and choosing “Mara” because bitterness feels more honest than pretending. From that raw place, we widen the lens: mental health and faith belong in the same sentence, not as a slogan, but as a real human attempt to make sense of abandonment, anger, denial, addiction, and the family systems that shape how we cope.
Then we talk about the empty season and why “nothing is happening” is often untrue. I use fermentation and bread as a metaphor for invisible growth: the days when the jar looks still, the first rise when dough seems unchanged, the second rise, and even the oven heat that feels like punishment but is actually part of becoming. If you’re measuring your life by productivity, numbers, or visible results, this is a gentle but direct reframe for emotional resilience, mindfulness, and Christian spiritual formation.
Ruth, Orpah, and Naomi help us ask a harder question: what does loyalty look like when it’s freely chosen? Orpah’s decision to return is not automatically failure, and Ruth’s decision to stay is not self erasure. Agency is the hinge. From there, we step into Ruth and Boaz as a model of safe love with boundaries, dignity, and process, and we name a truth many of us need: healing does not delete the past, it simply makes the pain one part of a much larger story.
We also share a quick note about Fight for Life, our men’s mental health conference focused on financial intelligence and emotional intelligence to help reduce suicide among men. If this conversation steadies you, subscribe, share it with someone in an empty season, and leave a review so more people can find it.
Hello, mindful parties. How are you today? This episode is going to be a little bit heavy, emotional. So it is my duty as the convener, that's not the right word of this conversation to tell you that. Because when we started this series in July, with me sitting down with some of my old testament historical figures, I honestly didn't know how much the Bible I have read, or I boast to have read twice, cover to cover, or even more than that, would suddenly start making me ask mental health questions. Don't, don't, don't, don't. I know. Then we need to say mental health. All sorts of pictures and emotions can come up. And then we're still putting mental health side by side the Bible. Don't worry, I'm taking you somewhere. Just follow me. Maybe the major question is some of us, for some of us, it's the image of psychosis, accomplice psychosis in those old Nigeria movies where somebody who's done something terrible to someone else suddenly runs mad. Um you know, that's some sort of karma. Or maybe it's the whole the the Hollywood version where we see a lot of homelessness, we see soldiers, veterans leaving with PTSD, and I'm here to tell you that yes, all of these experiences exist in the Bible, but they're not the whole story, they're not certainly the only stories represented in the Bible. Maybe I'm simply reading the Bible with new lights behind me. Like Uncle Andrew said in Steels Lewis's Chronicles of Nania, what you see and hear depends a great deal on where you were standing, and it also depends on the kind of person you are. Because I think that's what happened to me. I'm not reading the Bible only as a religious literature anymore, I'm also reading it as a literature that can help me and helps me navigate being a human being who lives with an actively diagnosed mental health disorder. And boy, am I seeing things differently? From abandonment to avoidance, comparison, denial, anger, approval, addiction, grief, and the family and societal systems that shape how we learn to live. But in the middle of all that, even the God of the Old Testament, who, depending on what she's been taught, can sometimes look like a god of iron brimstone, also showed a lot of compassion in places I didn't notice before. Oh ja, who is it you're sitting with today? At this point, that you're beginning to sound like an uneducated apologist. Don't worry, we will get there. But before we go on, remember that you can send me a message anonymously if you want. If you choose to do so, I'll do my best to respond on mindfully to Michael the DM that is on Instagram. And yes, we have a new segment to Michael Response in so if there's something you've been sitting with, then you want another human being, not a perfect one to sit with you, send it. And as we move through, we will talk some more. Like I said last week, a fight for life is coming up, and we're going to continue our conversation around not just men's mental health,
but all of us fighting for life. But first, let us arrive. Lift your shoulders slowly again, gently massage it around your neck. Try not to hold your breath when you're doing that, and then slowly let it go with a sigh. Let's do that again. Lift your shoulders up, massage gently around your neck. This time, release with a huge sigh. You know why? Sometimes the body knows how to let go before the mind has figured out what it is holding. So, can we stay here for a moment? Now, let's begin. To be honest, I'm not sure there will be a specific Tumishi story with this particular family member, at least not one that I know of yet. And that's part of why I want to do something slightly different today. I want to let you walk with me. Of course, I'm the one writing, you know, I'm the one reading, not only to listen to the episodes after I figured everything out, but actually walk with me while I figure it out together. Because you know, I told you that yes, I write all my episodes, and that is true. So today, I'm welcoming you into the creative process, and let's see where it takes us. By the end of this conversation, you will obviously hear what I have written, or what I have discovered. I'm just saying, as you listen, walk alongside me and we will get there.
Today's story begins with two women, or is it three? Naomi, an Opera, and eventually, I had said earlier sometimes when the series started that I don't think I have covered grief, uh, because grief might just be one of the heaviest human emotions that we carry about without us knowing. And I'm not only talking about the grief of losing someone to death. Grief is everywhere, everything we've lost, everything we've gained, people we have lost, people we've gained, the version of ourselves we've outgrown, the version of ourselves we are growing into, the homes that we've left, the relationships that didn't survive, the one that is surviving based on the lesson that you took from the ones that didn't survive to dreams that didn't happen. Even the things we prayed for and eventually received can carry grief. Because sometimes getting something means losing something else, the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. So much of being human is wrapped in grief. You know I'm gonna say it Tibi Lai Day. The very existence, the very fulcrum on which existence pivots. It's good and evil. And this is where Auntie Naomi enters the conversation. Naomi left Bethlehem with her husband and her two sons because there was famine in Bethlehem, she left because there wasn't enough, and then in the foreign land, she'd gone seeking a future. She almost lost everything. Her husband, her two sons died, and eventually she decides to return to Bethlehem. But listening to her, she describes herself when she got there. When people were happy that she was back, oh Naomi is back. She told the woman who recognized her, don't call me Naomi. Call me Mara. Because the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me. She renamed herself according to her pain. And I understand that. Don't you? Sometimes some things happen to us, and suddenly the thing that happened becomes the loudest thing about who we are. And I'll use myself. You can add that. I'm the person who finished that sentence. I'm the one who lost. Fill in the blank space. I'm the one who was betrayed. I'm the one who was abandoned. I'm the one who failed. We don't even realize we're doing it. But we begin introducing ourselves through the empty season. And perhaps that's one of the reasons empty seasons are very important. And I should tell you, I'm in the middle of a huge empty season as we speak. Now, before you roll your eyes and say, Yeah, she goes with another metaphor, just
stay with me. Because I was thinking about fermentation. Yes, fermentation. So we say, what in the world does Ruth and Naomi have to do with fermentation? Give me a minute. Just give me a minute. Think about the simplest to fermentation: lemon, ginger, honey. You put everything together in layers for the first few days. You may look at it and nothing is happening. You have to burp to see whether the bubbles are happening. But something is really happening. You can't just say it yet. Then maybe on day five, you begin to see those bubbles, and you do not have to burp the container to see the bubbles. Evidence that something has been happening underneath the surface all along. And if that metaphor is too bougie, let's talk about bread. That place is my own. You need your dough, and I love to knead my dough with my hand. It's so therapeutic. You do all that work. You know, your flour, your butter, your milk, your um yeast, your salt, your sugar, you gently knead it into a dough, then you leave it for an hour. The first rise. And that hour can look like nothing. But the dough is changing, it is rising. Then you bring it out, it is doubled up in size. You punch it down again, and then shape it into pans and let it rise again. Another empty season. It says nothing is happening, and you bring it out after maybe another hour. You see it, it's reason over the um the shape of the bread pan, and then you bake that baking part is even more painful because now that heat is the heat that bakes the bread that you now eat, but that heat doesn't mean that the process has failed. It is part of the process. Maybe we don't understand our lives that way, and that's okay. We live in a generation obsessed with statistics, numbers, followers, productivity, visible results. So if nothing appears to be happening, we call ourselves lazy and productive behind stock. But what if there are seasons where the most important work happening in your life is the work you cannot see? What if waiting isn't an activity? What if an empty season isn't the end of a story? What if something is fermenting? And that brings me back to Auntie Naomi because Naomi was empty. She came back empty and she was honest about it. She didn't come home pretending, she didn't say, Praise God, everything is wonderful, and I am back back home, and things can begin to get back to normal. No, she said, Call me Mara. She had experienced loss, and she was angry, she was grieving, she was disappointed, she was asking herself questions. Should I have left Bethlehem with my husband? Should I have allowed him to convince me to go and take her two sons? She's having all these questions, and maybe most importantly, she couldn't yet see beyond that season. Honestly, I'm not going to judge Naomi for that. Nah, because sometimes the night is so dark that she can't imagine the morning, and you're listening to things uh in Europe that like this aphorism that says, like the I'm going to transliterate it the best way I can that there is nothing that can stop the day from breaking. And when you are in the middle of it, it will get better, it can sound like the most irritating sentence in the English language or any language at all. It will get better, God I beg. Because you don't need someone to tell you there's a morning coming, you need somebody to sit with you while it is still night. And that's where we're doing what we're doing with Naomi today. Sitting, not fixing, not rushing her, not telling her what her story means. Just sitting. And uh Auntie Ruth. Ruth is in the middle of her own uncertainty, right? At least Naomi had had two sons, she's married, and Ruth was married to one of her sons. She'd experienced life some and she knows where to go back to. But Ruth, in the middle of her own uncertainty, a widow to a foreign family, she's faced with the choice to return to what she knows or walk with this foreign family she had chosen into a future she cannot see, though the person who brought her into that foreign family is no longer there. And Opa makes a different choice. And I want us to pause there. Let's take a pause because we have often been taught to celebrate roots so loudly that we forget Opa.
Opa went back, and I don't think that automatically makes her disloyal. Some will say in modern-day terms, she chose herself. She couldn't handle, she couldn't engage, or she couldn't process the authenticity that we'll be walking that path back to Bethlehem with a mother-in-law. She made the choice. Ruth also made the choice. Two women, two responses, two uncertainties, and perhaps both women have integrity. That's very important here. Because if we turn Ruth into the good woman and Opa into the woman who gave up, we've already missed something. We don't know what Upper's next chapter looks like. We were never told. We only know the part of the story that was recorded. And that's another lesson in itself. We often judge people's decisions by the chapters we can see. But I know that is a phrase that we say every time we write on our socials. Don't judge me by this chapter. Oh, the chapter you're meeting me now is different than the one you left me with. All our things. But the truth is, we do not know what happened after the story stopped being written about a person. And Ruth. Ruth chose to stay. She chose Naomi, she chose Bethlehem, she chose a people she had not grown up among, and she chose a God she had not originally known in the same way Naomi did. But here's the thing I love about Vu's choice. She had no guarantee. Listen, if I unpack that, this is going to be an hour long. But let's leave it like that. She had no guarantee. She didn't know that Bethlehem would look like. She didn't know where Dilde live. She didn't know what Dilde eat. She didn't know how she'd earn money. She didn't know if anyone would marry her again. She didn't know Boaz. She certainly didn't know that one day people will be talking about her thousands of years later. On Mindfully with Tumi She. She didn't know she would appear in the genealogy of King David. She did not know she would eventually appear in the earthly genealogy. Of Jesus, she did not know any of that, she just knew this is where I'm going, and she walked. Probably that is what uncertainty really is, not knowing where the ending or what the ending is gonna look like and walking anyway. And I let me borrow it from the great Martha Luther King. Uh everybody has heard that. It says faith is taking the first step without seeing the staircase. Let me quickly invite you to my romantic side. Just for a moment, we'll get back to um Naomi, Ruth, and all that. See,
can we agree that Ruth and Boaz's story is one of the sweetest love stories in the whole epic adventure that is the Old Testament? I used to think it was Jacob and Rachel, but oh, right now I have changed my mind. As of this moment, it is Ruth and Boaz. I mean, please. A woman arrives in a foreign land, she goes out to clean, a man notices her, he protects her, she gives instructions that she be treated with dignity, you know. He doesn't exploit her vulnerability. There is attraction, but there's also restraint. There's desire, but there's also honor. And there's a whole culture and family process that has to happen before anything can actually happen. No rushing, no manipulation, no, I saw you and therefore you belong to me. Just two human beings meeting in the middle of an uncertain story. Yes, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Let me let that love story sink with you for a moment. Let's continue. And who still doesn't know the ending that was born? So probably this isn't
really a story about loyalty versus integrity. Perhaps I'm beginning to think. We don't have to choose. Why should loyalty exist without integrity? And why should integrity require us to abandon loyalty? Maybe our question should be: what does loyalty look like? Or what does loyal actions look like when it is freely chosen? Because Ruth wasn't dragged to Bethlehem. She walked there, she wasn't forced into Naomi's future because Naomi actually begged them to go back. She chose to accompany her, and that distinction matters. Loyalty without agency can become bondage, but loyalty chosen freely can become love. And maybe that is where and why Ruth's story feels different to me. She didn't know what her loyalty would produce, she simply chose the next faithful step. So now Ruth arrives in Bethlehem with Naomi. Now what? Because this is where stories often become deceptively simple. Because we already know the ending. Ruth meets Boaz. Boaz knows his roots. There's a redemption story, the Mary, a child is born, and eventually Ruth becomes a part of the genealogy of David. Beautiful. But Ruth didn't know any of that. She woke up one morning in Bethlehem and then had to figure out what to do with that day. She needed food, so she went to gleep. And that's it. No five-year plan. No divine spreadsheet. No angel standing beside her saying, Ruth, if you go to this particular field today, everything will work out. She simply went. And that's what vaccinates me because sometimes we make faith without knowing the outcome. We pray. And somewhere inside that prayer is an expectation that a God who we want to be logical will give us the answer shit. But what if faith isn't always knowing? What if faith is sometimes taking the step with the information you have? I'm not even sure if Ruth had any information. She had just enough information to know that Naomi needed her. She had enough information to know that Bethlehem was where they were going. She had enough information to know that she needed to find food, and that was enough for the next step. She didn't need the whole map. And she walks into Boaz's field, where my romantic heart had been waiting patiently. Because this is where the story begins to emerge. But maybe it's because it is not dramatic. Because it is safe. I don't know how soon, but I'll tell soon. But the hint is in Ruth and Buzz. Remember, I said we're writing this episode together. So there you go. Write yours. Your love story might not be dramatic. Like mine wasn't. There's something beautiful about the story where attraction doesn't require possession. Boys, notice this Ruth. He asks about her, he learns who she is, he protects her, he tells the workers not to harass her. He makes sure she had access to water. He allows her to glean. He even instructs the workers to deliberately leave more for her. And Ruth notices, but neither of them knows what this encounter will become. That's uncertainty, too. Sometimes the beginning of something beautiful doesn't announce itself as the beginning. It's simply a Tuesday, a field, a conversation, a kindness, a decision, a person doing what they need to do. Oh, I'm so tempted to tell you the Tomisha story. Uh right now. But no, I'm not. And then Naomi begins to see something Ruth cannot yet see. And this is interesting to me because okay, I can say this part of the Tomishi story. My mom became that Naomi. Because Naomi came home saying, Call me Mara. My mom changed her whole name in religion. She allowed the emptiness to name her. But now something begins to shift. Not because her grief was unreal, not because the loss of suddenly disappeared, but because life began moving again. Ruth came home with grain. To me, she came home with hope and love. And told and Ruth told Naomi about the man whose field she had worked in. And to me, she went home to tell her mom whom she's met. And Naomi recognized something. Boys. And Taciti noticed something. Boomie. Boys was a relative, a possible redeemer, and suddenly the woman who had returned empty begins to participate in the possibility of a future again. No, I'm not related to Bummy. But in some way I am related because my mom is a Jebu, was a Jebu, and my husband is also a Jebu. You see? Parallels everywhere. Why I love Ruth and Bois. Look at that. Now me circumstances hadn't magically changed, her husband was still dead, her sons were still dead, the past hadn't been rewritten, but something had changed. Possibility had returned, and sometimes that's all we need in an empty season. Not certainty, but possibility. As I said earlier, I'm in the middle of a huge empty season right now. But one of the things that gives me joy is the possibility of having this conversation or sharing my heart with you on Mindfully Wichimushi. And this is why I think we need to talk about loyalty again because Ruth's loyalty to Naomi didn't mean that Ruth disappeared into Naomi. Ruth still had agency. She worked, she made decisions, she encountered borers, she participated in her own future. And Naomi, despite everything she lost, eventually began to help Ruth navigate hers. And that's what I think or I believe I'm doing now with you two. That's very, very different picture of loyalty from self-erasure. Because sometimes we confuse loyalty with carrying everybody, we confuse love with rescuing. We confuse being needed with being valuable. We confuse stay with sacrifice. But root doesn't disappear. She walks with Naomi. Not as Naomi. And maybe that's a very important distinction. You can love somebody deeply without becoming them. You can walk beside someone without carrying their entire life. You can honor your family without surrendering your identity. And you can remain loyal without abandoning integrity. Then comes the part of the story that makes me smile. Because Naomi eventually tells Ruth what to do. And Ruth listens, she goes to Boaz. There's vulnerability, there's risk, there's uncertainty, and still there's dignity. Boaz does not exploit the situation. He acknowledges the cultural obligation involved. He knows there's another relative who has the first right to redeem Naomi's family's property. So even there, love doesn't simply say I want you. It says there is a process. And I think that's beautiful because sometimes we romanticize love as the absence of boundaries. But hell the love has boundaries. Hell the love considers the other person. Hell the love doesn't make agency or urgency an excuse for violating integrity. This is where and why the Ruth and Bois story has survived for so long. It's so romantic and it's unmindfully to me today because it is so deeply human. Of course, we know what happens. They marry, a child is born, and Naomi, the woman who once said, Komi Mara is holding a child again. The woman around her, or the women around her, tell her that her life has been restored. And here's the thing: I don't think the story is saying, see, Naomi was sad, but God gave her a happy ending, so everything was fine. You know, that's too neat. Her husband's still gone, her son's still gone, the grief didn't come and become invalid because something beautiful happened later. The new joy didn't invalidate the old pain. Both existed. That's important because sometimes we think healing means the old pain disappears. Come on, ask me, they don't. Perhaps healing sometimes means the pain becomes
one part of a much larger story, and maybe that's the real meaning of uncertainty. Not that everything will walk out because I don't know that. You don't know that. Life doesn't promise us that. Faith doesn't exempt us from uncertainty. Mental health, a good one or a bad one, however you want to interpret it, doesn't exempt us from uncertainty. Love doesn't exempt us from uncertainty. Being a good person doesn't exempt us from uncertainty. Doing everything right does not exempt us from uncertainty. Uncertainty is simply part of being human, and the question may not be or should not be: how do I eliminate this uncertainty? Maybe the question is, how do I become the kind of person who can live faithfully inside this uncertainty? Trust me when I say you and I are writing this episode together, because as I'm speaking with you, I'm speaking to myself. That feels very different. Because if I think about the people we've sat through with throughout the series or during the series, like I said at the beginning, I'm not sure when it's gonna end. Sarah wanted an answer so badly that she tried to help God. Jacob spent years trying to manipulate outcomes. Daniel learned to discern his environment without abandoning himself. Joseph moved through Pete's praising and palace without knowing where the story was going to take him. And now Ruth simply walks, no guarantees, no complete map, just the next step. Maybe that's an invitation for you and I not to know, just to walk. And maybe this is where I'll bring it back to you. If you are in an empty season right now, as I am, maybe you have lost something. Maybe you had done something and you had to redo it. Maybe you
lost a person, a relationship, a career, a version of yourself. Maybe you're waiting for something, a diagnosis, an opportunity, a relationship, a child, a financial breakthrough, a decision. Maybe you're looking around and thinking nothing is happening, but maybe something is happening. Maybe you're in the second rise. Or you're in the oven baking. And if you're in the oven baking, please do not assume that means you've been abandoned. Sometimes the heat is part of the becoming. Put your hands on your belly again, take in a deep breath. Let it out slowly, and you may say to yourself as you let it out, I do not need to know the whole story to take the next step. Softly now, I do not need to know the whole story to take the next step. And if you don't believe it yet, that's okay. You don't have to manufacture faith, just notice the possibility. Not a neat. Trust God, and you'll meet Boaz. Police! Because what happens if Boaz doesn't come? What happens if your story doesn't unfold exactly like Ruth's? Then what? That's why I don't want to reduce a story to just romance. Okay, I have fed my romantic health because the real miracle is in that Ruth got a husband. The real miracle may be that she was able to walk into an uncertain situation without knowing that she would receive what she would receive from it. She chose, she walked, she worked, she loved, she waited, she remained herself. And life unfolded. So loyalty and integrity were never enemies. The real question had always been agency. Can I choose loyalty without abandoning myself? Can I remain committed without becoming a captive? Can I love without losing myself? Can I wait without becoming passive? Can I trust God without demanding that he show me the ending? Can I sit in an empty season without allowing the emptiness to renew me? That is why I always say mindful leaving looks like uncertainty. Never like certainty. It is presence, not control, it is discernment, not self-erasure, it is integrity, not frantic movement, it is the willingness to wait. And maybe not knowing what comes next doesn't exactly mean that you are lost. Oh boy, I'm preaching to myself today. It simply means you're still walking. And maybe that's enough for today. But before we go, I want to remind you that um November is a fight for life. Uh mindfully to Michael's men's only mental health conference. So if there's a man in your life,
you want to understand, want him to understand how to navigate life in this year, we're focusing on financial intelligence and emotional intelligence in a bead to um reduce the number of suicide amongst men. And if you're wondering why, statistics says that of every five suicide suicides, four are men, right? So um that is happening in November, so just uh follow us on Instagram, mindful with Tumi She. Um, men's mental health remains deeply important to me. One day you'll find out, one day you'll find out because I have stories that will make your ears ting, but it is very important to me because of the very things that happen to me because of men. I don't believe we can have conversations about mental well-being without making room for men in our lives to be human too. So, we'll be sharing so much more about the Fight for Life throughout this month. If you've been following us for the last three years, you know. But as I rind off today, I want to thank you for walking and writing this episode with me. And I hope you actually brought up your pen and you know, you were on your notepads and just writing your own story as you walked along, Ruth Baz and Naomi. Um, but I I I want to also thank you for going to Mindful You Tumisha on Instagram and following us. And you can drop your messages for Tomisha Response. And of course, you can just send a message with a link underneath this episode to send us a message. Give us a follow, share, rate, like, share with anybody who you think needs to start walking their own journey. Remember, we are building an army of the healed, one story and one person at a time. A huge thank you to Uluai Tobiyongishi, my amazing, amazing production assistant, who makes it very easy to bring these stories to you. I cannot believe this uh conversation went past 30 minutes, but I hope that it helped you as much as it helped me. It's your invitation to listen, learn, and join sometimes or simply knowing that somebody is willing to sit with you that you figure out what comes next. Love yourself, love your neighbor, love your country. Above all of this, love God. He is the essence of your being. I am Uluatumishi, or ladakmu. Stay mindful.
