There’s this one spot I forage. It’s like the axis of the earth itself shifts when I enter that zone. A vortex for sure. And I’m not the only one to have confirmed this. Time warps and the land spins. For someone who has a great sense of direction consistently, it is a place wherein my interior compass often discombobulates. Though I am not unsettled enough that I do not return. I still trust myself.

All things considered, it’s a small forest, yet it’s infinite. A bastion of old growth in a landscape surrounded by anything but. A mere fifty to one hundred years otherwise, reprod in this land’s terms. It is ripe bear country, the most common of scat to be found, and dense mountain lion terrain. The latter, county wise, some of the densest around in this state. Elk and deer are near never seen here, though their presence and movements are. Never have I seen one, so skittish here are they. I see them pretty much everywhere else I frequent on occasion. Hours can pass by in minutes and minutes can pass by as hours. There is an eeriness about it.

For clarity and wondering of being held. To see if abundance met me. And it did. It does not always. All that the land knows to do with me when I am most open with it. It does not want to let me go, and yet it does time and again so well. It grabs me sometimes and wrings me through the runners. Above all else, even when lost, however, it leads me home. Eventually.

The songs it sang to me this time. I wish I could sing them freely. I wish I could share them with somebody. Which is to say the songs it taught me. The earth teaches me songs wherever it is I go. Yesterday, it whispering what I already know, as to where it is home is for me. Physically yes, but more than this. Right into the reaches of love within.

The laughable nature of this week’s magic. A very kind but also somewhat of a douche bag too, showing up at random. Showing me in the most fantastic way where to release in heart space in a few directions. How my heart just loves to hold so much. So much often too not meant for it to hold, so I’ve learned, thanks to mechanics of the game in modern days we all endure in our own ways.

In this, I am not disappointed. Neither would my love be if open in holism I could be. I’m pretty sure nothing but a smile would be on that fucking marvelous face. But I’ll pretend otherwise for now if must be. For all that remains unmet. For all also that remains insecure and unseeing of itself.

I hope you see how much I love and laugh at myself. All at the same time. I hope you can be that rigorous with yourself.

For all that I have grown into struggling with, this land is good to me. Have you any idea the wonder and peace hearing nature itself sing to you brings? Today was different though. It was Source delineating joining in. I heard the difference between in song itself meeting in harmony. It’s hard to explain.

I am not the only witness to corruption in real time. Love meets love and it’s really as simple as that. I can’t explain the things I grapple with. Honestly, I don’t care to. Not in depth.

I know even where it is I belong. And very much where I don’t. But I need not validation beyond anything outside of me. I’m so over anything trying to fucking overly influence or control me. Everyday America, that is the normative. Energies trying to control and funnel anybody they can get their hands on. In the domain of love too. Saying it as so because it alone in normative pretends as a movement in this land it doesn’t.

Yet, to great irony, control is antithetical to love itself, isn’t it? Where control persists, love does not dwell. Not lastingly. If there is any blame to be had for me, and far more than me truly, alienating myself from love with a capital L, it surely would be the sum of amalgamations, power plays, and norms in America.

Nevertheless, this land and Source are teaching me to love and keep it all in if I must. If that is what these times necessitate. To let it grow unseen and unmet. That it is heard anyways. That I am met in love regardless. And maybe that’s all any of us really need, is to be met in love. Even as an exile, always is it possible. There are certainly less interesting ways to live.