I believe that astrology came before astronomy. That the seeds I plant grow to feed my DNA. That the man I will marry has lived in my heart since I was a child. And that Jim Morrison is alive, living somewhere in Africa, writing poems that he never puts on paper, watching us from afar and cheering on the soul cryers, still raging against the corporate liars.
I believe in the power of who held you first. I heard that many soldiers use their dying breath to ask for their mother. I saw a Saudi soldier who located his mother after two years of fighting afield. When he found her on a bus that was stopped at a checkpoint, he buried his face in her black Hijab and he cried and cried and cried.
And that an open-heart will get you a lot of critical information in life. I think most Love songs are shit. Because let’s be real, true love is a long journey.
I think we’re addicted to numbness. And that honey, a bit of salt, and a glass of water — and just having the conversation that needs to be had — cures so much.
I think that most of humanity is sleeping so it creates a lot of conflict when the light arrives. But it’s time to wake up. It’s now time. Very now.
I don’t believe that the playing field of life is even for everyone. The “You can do anything you set your mind to!” ra-rah is a motivational sales pitch from the relatively privileged, who need you to believe in them.
I think we’re obsessed with protein, and sunscreen, and sameness. And we forget, more tragically than most can understand, that consuming LIGHT is how we grow — in union, and with distinction.
And that with just a few good questions we could all get what we are looking for… the same thing that Jim Morrison was trying to find, and the enlisted soldiers, and Muslims. And the same thing that my son wants, and every single one of my girlfriends and their mothers — from Glasgow and North Vancouver and Calgary. Pakistan, Detroit, Istanbul. Korea and Greece. We all want the same thing.
It’s comforting for me to believe in the divine order of chaos. I have to stand on my tiptoes to see that geometry, with my arms stretched upward so that my heart is exposed to the starlight. And I say to the Great Mother, “help me believe that we are all coming home.”
And I never get a direct answer, but I always hear music playing on the other side of my doubts. And when I get up and I get out, I find most of us there. And we’re all dancing. And we’re carrying the ones who can’t dance and the ones who just refuse to dance. And truth is animating our bodies, and LOVE is the constant beat. And every time we ask, What do you believe? we begin a freedom song.
If you believe… send to the people you know who love the light like you do. xo.
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Photo Credit: Catherine Just