It has been a while since I just wrote blog style, without prompt. The daily cards are such a part of my life, my spiritual practice, that it is easy to let them inspire me and inform the messages that come through. It is an energetic feedback loop that I treasure. And yet sometimes words are in me, and come through unbidden. They have a ferocity today, a relentless pursuit of air that I have no choice but to accommodate. I also have no idea what it is that I am about to write, so there is a wildness to the task that ignites me.
For the past two months I have made a conscious decision to be a neutral observer. I no longer watch the news, largely stay off of social media, and try to remain above the fray of the onslaught of fuckery that is taking shape writ large in the US. I have little interest in becoming consumed with rage at the rise of mediocre white men railing against the fact that they have to be told to be decent human beings. I have zero respect for the mediocrity that they feel somehow entitles them to respect, or for the mere fact that they are so ensconced in a grievance culture of how persecuted they are that is laughable at best. Instead of giving my energy to meeting this with emotional unrest, I’ve just given my last fuck and moved on. I am committed to migrating my online presence to spaces that are not owned and operated by man babies vying for “Daddy’s” approval in the most emasculating display of obsequience I’ve ever witnessed. Occasionally I peek in to see what fresh hell has been initiated, but for the most part I’m focusing on the things I can control.
As we pass the halfway point of the first month of the new year, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to my place in the world. I am at my home away from home right now, writing as the sun sets and the moon rises over an eternal landscape that sings to my soul with each gust of wind, each cloud drifting by as the fuchsia sun bows gracefully behind the horizon. Here, it is easy to remember my true nature. It is easy to remember that I too am eternal, that love is eternal. That the noise and cacophony of the daily news cycle is fleeting, is simply a moment in the unravelling tapestry of humankind, to be rewoven into new form at some point in the future. Only this moment is real. The place of peace in my heart is the place I return to time and again, my own internal witness to the growth and evolution of my soul. I visited a shop the other day, where women were weaving by hand on looms. Intricate patterns and vibrant colors taking shape in some mysterious sequence that yields a beautiful garment. We weave and unweave ourselves as well, becoming and unbecoming as we cycle through our own evolution.
As I navigate the spirals and turns of my own journey, I have come to appreciate deeply the unweaving. Releasing the threads that no longer hold energy - old trauma, old drama, old stories that demand a new ending. I have found this requires a certain quietude, an allowance of empty space where our passion once focused, so what is gestating can fully form and arrive unencumbered. It is at once abjectly terrifying and a cradle of Grace. I think this is how our consciousness must feel when it realizes it is in the womb - the dark, watery abyss between worlds where we are nurtured and contained, held so completely, yet without any glimpse of what lies beyond, forming into a new iteration of our Essence. In many ways our collective consciousness is experiencing this darkness again, the uncertainty of systems and structures that used to provide guardrails now falling away, leaving us like newborns blinded by the shocking new reality, desperately groping for a new “normal”. Fear and chaos abound, serving only those who stoke the unrest. What if we do not give it air, if we refuse to feed the fire by remaining centered, by living and breathing peace? What if we bypass the distraction system altogether, rejecting social media, garbage television, biased and skewed news “reporting”? What if we collectively reject the machine that we have unwittingly bought into, that life is so expensive because of all the things we “need”, working tirelessly to barely make ends meet in a system designed that way, too distracted to realize we have given away our souls, our power, to achieve a status that is always elusively one step beyond the horizon?
It is time to reweave the tapestry, to form a vision and future whose foundation is our interconnectedness. We, as the collective, are the collective. I see a landscape emerging where each brightly woven strand supports and enhances the beauty and innate nature of the thread by its side, forming a strong, intricate fabric to clothe us all. The misperception that we must be self-made, that only the rugged individual survives must be abandoned. It is only with each other, in loving compassion for each other, that we will rewrite the story of isolationism and separation, and come back to the unity that is our birthright, our collective Essence. We are One, unfailingly individual, intricately woven, and stronger together. My commitment is to use my words to connect, to celebrate, and to curate community. I will not allow the machinations of the greedy and craven to distract me from my purpose. I am here to co-create a new paradigm, one word at a time, one soul at a time. May we all find our way back to each other, back home.
Blessed be.
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