We begin with the origins of life and the spectacular thrill of light, slicing through the amniotic sack of eternity into a new form of existence.
Life on earth begins. From magma churning, land forming, as water and magma meet — pools of water collect, heat, starlight — cosmic matter ~ cells duplicate and new organisms arise and evolve. We explore the Virome as a key component and catalyst for evolution and watch it advance into forms we know as flora and fauna on earth. We see the intelligence of life underground, from the mycelium networks to the roots of trees, all micro-organisms and their interdependent communication. We spend time with the unseen. (This could be a good place to vie for the unseen, its relevance, its existence, its necessary valued contribution, though not seen or remembered or considered. The soul too is unseen.)
We travel further below ground, enter a form and watch it decompose back to earth. As we emerge from under under, we see we have arrived at the bakhita, the found skeletal remains of a slave, also long forgotten.
Slavery and Cycles of Shame
Emboldened by the inflated and transformed Christianity into an anti-nature and anti-human tradition~ violence was carried out with impunity ~ of course, anything and everything is justified when one is “fighting with the Devil”
Entire cultures were forced to absorb the sacrifice of slavery… For the advancement of enterprise and genocide. As benefiters, achieved by these violations, those who dominated seized a power that was never theirs to take. Freedom cannot be stolen, or hoarded, or accumulated at any cost. The irony being~ all freedom, is put in peril, even when appearing as winning. This is the beginning of supremacist living and thinking. And because all life seeks liberation, all freedom is bound by another’s captivity, suppression, and doomed… Inextricably chained ~ prisoner and guard.
The subsequent global impact of slavery, the grieving communities, left with this trauma, the introduction of mass commerce, the mass destruction of indigenous people and the staggering toll that rippled through all life… as the humans were taken from within the circle of life. The very aliveness that was wanted was taken. Killed. From man to land. These are the ghosts on which we stand. Here we look at the recycling of trauma from generations to generation we track the introduction of this fracture throughout the global village and why black history month will never be enough.
Gain at any cost, Greed and Rise of Empire
This story can’t be told without the telling of what was lost.
The Vanished speaks to all those disappeared. Taken. Unreturned. The making of empire came at an unimaginable cost. People stolen. Vanished from their own kind, homeland and matrix. Never to see it or be seen again. Holes left in long existing communities. Those unreturned, their disposable flesh and soul became property for consumption. Who alive today, who steady themselves on the goodness of their ways, can look back with eyes that have pierced through our previously accepted narrative and not say: oh my god…what have we done? For this sorrow has been carried on in all life forward. We begin to weave through our series the diminishing light of the indigenous cultures snuffed when freedom is used to strike first. the original people snatched from their safe and natural existence…While we build the case for the rise of the megalomaniac, and come to understand what was lost while power grew in unthinkable ways.
The unsustainable nature of industrial civilization is based on, and increasingly requires violence to maintain itself.
The Failure of War, Bearing Witness, Us & Them and Living in Exile.
Once we gave ourselves permission to dispose of one group of humans, a precedent was set.
Treating life as if it can so easily be snuffed out. The use or misuse of one’s snuffing power is proof that it was never meant to be theirs in the first place, as evidenced by their genocidal tendencies. Men wearing top hats as they send the boys off to war. Duped by the charade of toxic masculinity, the boys return from war as empty shells of themselves. If they come home at all.
Taking a hard look at War Without End, we see how the taste of imbalanced power creates a craving for unquenchable, unreasonable, unreachable conquests. It’s true life eats life. The life-death cycle has been explored in battle throughout time. This may not have been new. But extermination, this is a different story.
Where is soul? Buried in all those unmarked mass graves. One doesn’t wash their hands of responsibility with treaties and papers of independence. The trauma in the blood, passed down, unrelenting in its need to be known, festered wound, never healed, leaving the violence virus in conquered lands. Our looking away is part of the spell.
We bear witness to the violence and dispute the lie that allows perpetrators and strong men to think they are separate from the very pain and death they cause.
The Human Encounter with Death
One who knows how to live well knows how to die well
Here we examine our end of life rituals, our encounter with grief, the business of death ~ and sprucing it up.
Death is one of humanity’s great unifying realities:
We are all going to die. In this time of reckoning, how one valued one’s life and the lives of others certainly colors the death experience…this moment of leaving~ busting through all false notions~ Life is not about the accumulation of wealth it is an exchange of what can’t be sold, bought or seen ~this is the boat of which we will cross the unknown sea. That is the raft of which we will be carried.
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and melt into the sun
Bells (That in times of grief, sometimes there is simply nothing to be said)
Environmental Destruction, Big Pharma, and the Loss of Indigenous Wisdom.
Welcome to the supermarket of the 6th extinction
The perils facing life on earth are so massive and unprecedented that they are hard to believe. The very danger signals that should rivet our attention and bond us in collective action, remain unheeded. What we fail to realize is what we do to the earth we do to ourselves. Paving another road, cutting down a grove of trees… It’s like an amputation. Damn straight we’ll need some pain meds for that…The rise of Big Pharma and the addiction to prescription meds as a means to cope with this runaway train of Life we have created. Numb and immobilized as we ride this thing right over the edge of no return. We also explore: what’s on the edge of extinction ~ from environmental loss, wildlife, water, and the cultural extinctions that loom.
They stole our songs…
Purging, Soul Retrieval, and the Unfurling of the Feminine Wing.
All that was lost, acquired through conquest, killed in cultural extinctions, shamed as uncivilized, dominated with the power to strike first… Ownership, supremacist thinking, separation from others and earth. Songs silenced. The very thing we cut down to build our Safeways to provide certainty and convenience is the very thing we need.
Where is heart?
Screaming under asphalt and concrete roads. Barricading its thump ~ as it grasps for air.
We’ve paved over all roads that would have led us there. Now nothing can breathe. The spell of winning concealed the true loss. The very songs we took from the original people is the very medicine we need. The plants growing in these old grove forests lost to city sprawl… It can’t be owned. The consumption of lies, the concealing of truth, the dissatisfaction of accumulation at the expense of life and the stall of harmonious evolution by the wounded dominant Force of the masculine…
We begin to hear the notes of a drum, reminiscent of a distant heartbeat… The notes of the shamanic song begin to grow as we enter the healing realms. We hear the sounds of purging and the sacred medicine songs, the ikaros, and feel the beauty of sacred ceremony ~ to share the beauty and true bravery of responsibility. Balance being restored by those who carry these songs and share these medicines to counter the violence of war, the atrocities of man, the hoarding and subsequent self-loathing.
Who’s fire will you sit at?
Toxic masculinity collapses in a heap in the lap and arms of mercy and forgiveness. We have the unfurling of the feminine wing ~ and the Dance of Pono ~ this ribbon of beauty – to make right.
Yes, we can get back the soul ~ that is the beauty of God ~ ever compassionate ever looking to restore us back Into the fold of existence. We have that constant example over and over again.
Offer every secret, empty of each regret, lay down your war, bury all harm done.
A new world is possible, Regeneration & Repair, The Gospel of Inclusion, Welcome Home.
Tell a broken song.
A song of return. Our fragile voice sings to be restored. Our tenderness melting the prison cage of shame. The language of forgiveness… With its grace notes, its kindness repairs.
And will you, friends, sing them for the children?
With all our knowingness, righteousness and award winning intelligence, will we make this right? Will we build an alternate civilization based on care for all life?
What is lacking from the modern heart is a feeling of reverence and awe at the power behind The Universe. Will we allow ourselves to feel the wonder and awe? Just as we turn away from the horror, we turn from the beauty as well. It’s still here.
Welcome home.