Drop point

Here it is the place from which we begin again. The plants need watering, my body needs to be held, my heart needs to rest, yet there is work to do. There is presence to be shared, there is hope to be grown and tended to like the oldest and wisest of all gardens. There’s a craving for smoke within my lungs, there’s a desire to be here, yes, fully present within the creation. As the one birthing it and also as the one being born. I see art of another’s highest self and I am reminded that I too am this, what I see in her is a reflection of me, a portal into my own self, and the beautiful thing is they look the same. The same way I would draw what I’ve envisioned myself to be she already has. Time and time again, putting paint to page and creating this beautiful reflection. With the words “what is pure reverberates through”.

I awoke to fog, it filled the space outside my window. My body felt like it was the energies of red and black, deep earth, human kind. The scene around was whispy and cool blue, no where in sight except for a few feet in front. Misty, I could see the tops of trees just barely. Why had I been awakened at this time? Before the sun had even risen, yet with enough light in the sky to illuminate what just barely could be seen. Unless this was the workings of the waxing moon which kissed my skin goodnight as I closed my eyes in the hours that felt like seconds before I opened them up again.

I fell asleep wondering what more work there is for me to do. This society of production seeping its way into my veins, past and through my arteries filling my whole being up with false tales and sickly lies. Belief systems that haunt and taunt and turn one away from the light inside, inside all beings. All things, even, if one has cleared their eyes enough to see. Now I sit back, within the same place I have risen and fallen, explored worlds, spoken with so many of you just below the current of time and space, and come back to, this world of ours. Our great mother, our great grandmother, our great heaven upon these lands. I speak these words with a heaviness in my heart, for how can I live, dream, or even desire to create some sort of heaven, if my heart can even dream it possible, amidst a world filled with so much pain, so much heartbreak, so much torture and true destruction of the spirit. It seems that everywhere we turn there are wounds exposed. The pains of a childhood filled with neglect, the subconscious bullying from a friend, the pavement that covers the earth where moss is supposed to grow, where trees are meant to take root. Only the beginning of all the suffering. The years and years and years and years of hatred and violence and abuse against Black and Brown people, especially women, trans women. All people of color. How they have been neglected by the system itself, yes, but also by us, through the programming and conditioning that was imbedded so deeply within our minds to see differences as some sort of ‘other’ thing, some sort of higher or lower standard of worthiness. A worthiness of holiness, a worthiness of love. All people, all beings that did not fit within the white thin box of patriarchy, deemed as less then, unimportant. Insignificant. Horrible and honorable to reconcile with, to acknowledge the existence of these mind programs, these indoctrinations fed to us our whole lives from a system built so far from the essence of love itself. For the only way to change what we see, what we know, what we have been programmed to believe is to first acknowledge its existence. How we, how I, have been unconsciously allowing these systems to exist and live and perpetuate the production of pain through avoidance and turning a blind eye to the truth and very fact of their existence. No more, no more feeding of the systems that inflict suffering. No more hiding from the pain I have caused without knowing, no more pretending it will all just disappear if I don’t look at it. The more I learn, the more I discover, the more I uncover, I know, that the only way is through. The only way is through with compassion. With love, with care, for these beliefs and programs can be transformed, so easily, so efficiently, so effortlessly, with simple awareness. But they must be seen in order to be alchemized. And from there, we recognize that all are love, all are equal within the realm of spirit. All are worthy totally and so entirely. Division turns to celebration of our differences, celebration of what makes us unique. Celebration of culture and traditions, with the threads of love to weave us all together. While acknowledging, understanding, and listening deeply to the stories and histories that have shaped and influenced people, and the systems themselves. What pushed traditions to be formed, what influenced the creation of song and dance and food and love amongst different communities. The suffering and the victory, all are crucial parts to every story for they shape the narrative of time itself. How resilience is formed, how we can learn from the experiences of the past to inspire bravery and courage and deep love within the present tale that is now being written.

In order to understand, we must understand ourselves. How our minds feed paths of destruction or how they feed paths of creation. Knowing that we can always, easily, transform everything into something of beauty with simply awareness and then choice. No path is stuck in stagnation eternally. No mind route is ever locked in, no matter how old or how many years or how many times that trail has been followed, everything can always be transformed. Start within the heart, start within the breath. One slow, steady step at a time. Holding compassion, deep love, and unwavering devotion to yourself, to the light that lives eternally within, everything will transform. Be gentle with yourself, be gentle with others, we are all waking up together and none of us are alone in this.

I love you eternally, I love you without condition. You are perfect and you are exactly where you need to be. The true spirit of perfection is to change with the changes that always move us, and holding this singular truth within, always. You are love.