Confused? You were meant to be.
Not by the Creator, but by those who rule this reality.
The Creator made things simple to understand. You live, you die, you procreate, you gain, you lose, you eat, you excrete, you laugh, you cry. You seek warmth when it's cold, cool when it's hot. You seek passion, excitement, fun, but also peace, quiet, gentle humour and sometimes hunt for the stab of regret and the piercing of grief for in those there is sometimes solace, healing. You seek company, and sometimes solitude. You pray for the absence of pain. You pray for love and the beauty of connection, hearts entwining, something precious as a child, special as a parent, as wonderful as a friend. You need a roof, nourishment, occasionally a herb or plant to take your soul on another journey, to open your spirit to the wonder of creation, to let you know you are small, but that smallness is good, that you are a tiny part of the connected wholeness, that something great comes from the sum of those myriad parts and so you are a part of greatness, a tiny wonder, a fleck of paint in a masterpiece.
Sometimes you look for anger, sometimes you desire to hurt, but these things are rare if the other pieces of the jigsaw are right. They are anomalies, things to be amazed you have the capacity for, things you realise cause you shame, understanding that creation makes space for these things if only so we can understand how things might go badly if once we forgot what we are, what we are a part of, what is our destiny at the end of this journey.
We did so forget.
And now there is this reality, the false reality, the inversion of truth, the barrier between you and your personal meaning, that which stops you from being what you should be and makes of you something less, something baser, that imposter that carries your name in the world and pretends it is you, that liar, that thief, that bully, that fraud.
In this fabrication, this hell hole, the beauty of our species is trampled, misshapen, malformed and we have forgotten, forgotten what we are, forgotten our humanity, forgotten how to enjoy, forgotten how to love, forgotten our duty, our dignity, our honour, our place in the whole.
And all the while we live with this collective amnesia the possibility of fulfilling our destiny, of taking our place, drifts like a rudderless hulk in the dark ocean of misery.
Now, these days, these moments in the tide of time, from the wreckage of our world there are those of us who are coming back to our humanity, we not-so-few in whom the remembering is awakening, in whom the ancestral understandings are surfacing. We grow in inquisitiveness, we question what is, we decry what we instinctively know is wrong, we name evil and call for a reckoning.
We are a rising swell in the tide of history, driven by our confusion, searching for the light of understanding, stretching our canvas to the first puffs of the wind of change. We are the first generation of a new humanity, the tippers of the pyramid of power, the cleansers.
We are legion.
Here we come.
xxx xxx xxx