Years of hardship have taught me well.
I am free to be me and explore what that means without anybody. With having been gutted of the life I once had as well. Gutted of the life trials, too many, that life brought me too, because they never really brought me anything of authenticity in mundane loving reality anyways. Presence is such a precious gift in this life.
I hope everybody in fields for collective consciousness find what they are looking for. Somehow, I’m pretty sure each do. Gloriously.
Nature is my nature. And God of a very different variety for me. Nature and soul are finding alignment and harmony within me.
Vengefulness, control, and petty world making are foreign to all that I know sacredly.
Certainly not soul enriching as I know the sacred to be.The stories of our planet’s making from old mystery schools alone forewarn of whose works those are. I love how shrouded those mysteries too are now. Most will never make their way through them authentically likely. I cherish the elder who helped me see through them so very many years ago. Gosh, it feels like lifetimes ago now. He was written off as crazy too long before now.
We all get little bits and pieces wrong along our own ways of learning and remembering and moving towards our own expressive works in creative worlding, don’t we? Like some of the best hip hop artists of our time, however, I believe myself in good company being in the lot of the eaten up, exiled, and left for dead, left behind, suicided, or discarded.
I am certainly no mask any put on me. It feels good to be so free. A wild woman without chains or ferality. There is weaving that creates chains, and there is weaving that releases them. Wild itself does not mean what most think it means, does it? How much I too have grown. The four-legged first friend teachings and reminders. My good God, have I grown. That I can name the sacred as God without trigger or any boxing in, that in itself is a bit of a miracle.
Knowing the cosmos now so intimately and all first-hand somehow, more than I bargained for for myself, intentionally at least, putting even wildness in its right place.
I really was a little too feral.
Growing up near wilder reaches of the Wild West, not just living there, but vividly living experiencing its fullness since as young as I can remember, I can acknowledge that and laugh wholeheartedly now about that.
You can cut the indigenous out of someone, steal, exile, or displace them, define in formality them right out of it, ghost it in ‘em too, but you can’t strip away any of the core of what it is they are. While we are that, so too are we so much more in ways that even that can fall away and still, we are more than okay. Once the depths of griefs are processed and metabolized at least. Of which, that wound, is very many.
Maybe it’s a blessing the world isn’t learning from the earth in those ways. Not in the ways of not learning how to harmonize with the earth-wise, that being a rather unwise thing, but in the ways of the mysteries of places and how they interconnect as mirror of cosmos in shaping peoples in ways that aren’t precisely interchangeable. Like nodal points in mycelial fields. I don’t think most people could handle the enormity and beauty of what those fields reveal.
Besides, contrary to popular impulse and longings, indigenous teachings aren’t really adequate in scale for harmonizing humanity’s relationship with the earth in the times we are in. I say that in full recognition of the beauty that such teachings offer. I would do a great disservice to so much that has been gifted to me in making me in this life with who I am becoming without that recognition explicitly.
The whole of all of that dwells just under the surface now though. A daughter of something very different am I than many. How much of it is about how one orients their making? What else would one expect otherwise from the youngest in her family after so long of knowing being mostly only scapegoated? Freedom’s price I paid so well across the whole of my life up to this point really.
Having said all that, where one chooses to surrender too then, that means as much as well, doesn’t it? Surrender without need, without demand, without pressure even, that is my relationship with surrendering. Pure sovereign agency that means far more in meaning and relationally. My goodness, if ever I love a man again in the flesh, he is going to get that version of me. The old me wouldn’t even know what to do with that scope of receptive femininity. The new me isn’t sure I’ll ever find a man capable of handling me, or one that I would let in so close as to maybe. I’ll still be okay because I have all of me in ways I could not have foreseen.
Celtic redemption is becoming me. Most have certainly never heard of such a thing. Though I wonder how many sense something about there being difference amongst such semantic terrains with invoking than much of anything the world out there at present is chasing and demanding must be abided to?
My fall, rather my gross unfathomable numbers of falls, taught me well the value in taking a small step back for gaining better clarity. I see differently now all my lessons with falling, as well as those who so firmly insist on never falling. We are anything but the same.
Cosmic balancing does not work that way. Wildness has its own price to pay.
