Coming back to what is known
A practice in creativity, meaningful disconnection, and consistency
This isn’t some resolution or goal, but rather an intentional act of reclaiming the humanity that the modern way of life tries to claim.
To sit down each day, regardless of mood, activities, or resistances, and to write. No direction, end goal, or time expectation. Just sitting down and pouring out art, love, ideas, & allowing it to break me open, set me free, and take us deeper.
See, there is this idea of little acts of resilience, not resistance, contrary to how I interpreted it previously.
This idea that if our world leaders want to strip us of our compassion,
If those operating from fear want to strip us of our art,
& if those making all their money on our data and our attention want to strip away our focus,
Then, truly, the most meaningful acts of resilience are in
how we care, how we create, and how we stay present.
When it feels like there is nothing left to do, nothing new to say, and no fight left in us, there is always the human capacity to resist darkness.
It is as intertwined within us as the DNA coursing through our blood.
There is always a sentence to be written, a stroke of paint to brush, a tree to sit beneath, a friend to walk alongside, a laugh to escape from between two lips.
& although it feels further away for me than it has in a while,
the human capacity for great love, great progress, and great beauty is not the outlier in the history of this beautiful world; it is the life force, the river that runs through.
The radical nature of Christ, of Buddha, of the native medicine women, and of the heartbeat of the Earth is, in fact, not radical at all.
To mourn loss and celebrate life.
To move through the cycles.
To dance to music all around.
To allow our own character to be the witness.
This is life itself.
The hate, the separatism, the lust for power, the selfishness, that is what is
radical; affecting the fundamental nature of something; far-reaching or thorough.
It’s divisive, crude, and unmistakably man-made. It reaches far beyond our collective calling.
Your joy, your nature, your uniqueness, your fascination, your inner child and inner wisdom, that is what comes from the soil and the spirit all around.
So make space for it.
Make space for soil between your fingers, a moment with god in the middle of a crowded room, a breath so steady that it fills the body from the belly to the chest.
Make space for your resilience,
make space to allow the river to rush through you.
You are not radical in this.
You are exactly where you are meant to be.
If you enjoyed this writing, I hope to spend the next thirty days sitting down just like this and allowing space for creativity and hope to pour out.
& the ask of course is knowing that every share with a friend, like, comment, and subscription (it’s free), helps me continue this work and is so tremendously meaningful to me.