I think back to my youth. Concert going was a big part of it. The energy of the music, performer bouncing back and forth between entertainer and crowd always left one feeling elevated, energized and harmonized with connection. Not once did it enter our young minds that we would be sitting ducks for deranged target practice. It was always an experience of pure unbridled and ecstatic joy.
Fast forward 3 decades later, a new norm, human nature yearns the comfort burying in denial offers, but this never leads to any real change, as the grinding decades show. What once was drive by shootings in gang infested neighborhoods has become a world wide epidemic of our most suppressed, destructive, homicidal, suicidal miasm (generational taint/corruption to the hard drive – if you will)
Just down the street from our home is a county hospital where doctors are sent to hone their skills with gunshot wounds – because in the past, gang members supplied a great deal of study cases. This hospital teaches many war medics what they have gleaned. There is even a name for it “Level 1 Trauma Care”. My how we’ve grown…
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Grieving is an integral counterpart to lasting transformation, taking quiet time, to reflect, fast, cry, mourn. It is rare to find humans that can skillfully listen and cry with you. The common tendency is to deflect, offer Kleenex, or worse yet, chemical management so that after a while more and more chemical management is needed – because the root issue was dismissed in an arrested teenage development state so common in our immature, unweaned world. Grieving is a hard, yet necessary process to greater and more considerate part of the “whole”; not necessarily something to get stuck in, but something to grow through. It feels a sorely lost step to spiritual maturity these days.
I couldn’t help ruminate yesterday afternoon, as I was working with my dearest ponies, how at this juncture in time, a worldwide feeling covers this planet – most likely much like native peoples must have felt when colonial invaders came and slaughtered beasts and man in wanton bloodlust. The senseless piles of bodies left behind to rot, those witnessing wonder how any being act from such wasteful hubris, denying the consequence the whole will eventually bring. I can’t help but think, in the presence of my sacred ponies the world now feels a collective ache, indigenous peoples felt for so long and still patiently wait for reconciliation (perhaps even much like the planet itself).
This world makes many turns to reconcile wounds of old. I am not talking about child like victim-hood, who is wrong, who is right, its time to grow past that. I am talking about weaned souls that can fess up to the mess, start where we as a race are at, and begin to clean the mess from there. I have always found comfort in the Ho Oponopono prayer, I’m sorry, forgive me, thank you, I love you. This simple prayer helps all sides to see contribution to the greater whole. This is essential to growth as opposed to pinhole human perceptions that keep us stuck in these painful and fruitless cycles.
There is great healing that comes from the mundane chores of daily life, the feeding, the cleaning of space, the most essential building blocks of deep nourishing care of self (not the chemically managed so many are taught to replace deep care with). It really does boil down to finding great joy in the little things that lay the ground work for getting past such “new normals” many officials say will likely continue.
In recent natural disasters we see great outpouring of human deity, many from all walks of life and means doing what they can to restore balance in a very ailing and struggling planet. I believe this is a great starting point, a boomerang so to speak, to begin changing the tide of what officials want us to believe will become our new norm. All life deserves better and I do hope all reading this will see the unintended consequence that is growing amongst caring beings, while governments too often incite the masses, corral them and especially in America, dumb humans down with poisoned food and drugs. Growing past such need of self sabotage and arrested development are crucial to changing the tide the world is now swimming through. Cleaning up self, environment and minimizing damage – as much as humanly possible, beats the pointing of fingers that only feeds the monster and does nothing to bring solace to future generations. It is time to stop being that childish and self centered, and yes this is part of very addicted behavior as well.
Witnessing the outpouring of human deity after man made and natural disasters, I know most people do not wish our race continues this downward spiral. God only knows many of us have witnessed enough with what creatures endure at our hubris, its time we treated all life, including self, with reverence that life deserves. I can’t help but think our grieving process would be very different if we lived this, rather than just speak it. There is a difference and all creatures know it, except too many two-leggeds, high time to put action to what our words are.
Ancient cultures like the Inca built astounding mountain top sanctuaries. Water still flows there thousands of years later, so in-tune with their elements these human deities were. After a few hurricanes, our modern ways cannot compare. We need these peoples wisdom more than ever.
I have always found great solace in writings of old. Part of me seems to always say a prayer of thanks for the writers of old that put their gold to script, so some of us can confirm our soul knowings.
The ancient rituals of ceremony, music and dance, I never want to see this die. Ancient cultures knew the value of these timeless acts of community. I believe dancing feet make Mother Earth as happy as the tickle of large roaming herds. She is a benevolent Mother that way. A bit of gratitude goes such a long way, the masses She supports endless.
I still listen to DJ Uncle Joe on the radio (yes I am old). I have been listening to him since Jr. High. The man is plethora of classic rock history, plus – you can’t beat those tunes – there is something about the music of our youth…
In the wake of the shooting in Las Vegas, I couldn’t help but think Mr. Petty’s heart attack was related. To have come off such triumphant tour, a career spanning 40 years in a business that is tough to stay alive in and let’s face it – we equate concerts with youth, fun, dance and celebration – the weight that is coming down on this entire industry is new territory.
I know that music, like this planet does not stop. Neither can you keep feet from dancing. The whole process will morph, as life always does. From my own thwarted birth and strange life I know a way will always be made. I hope people really learn to ease up on their manipulations and trust life. The process of being flows so much more peaceably when we do so. We can be mature, weaned beings; it is so much safer than being drugged up, chemically managed puppets – making too much scared noise like too many so called leaders.
I have been incredibly blessed with audacious wild beings and domestics that instilled in me knowing my place in life and to trust life. Such weaned action shows faith in Creator and is not lip-service so often encountered in this world. Experience is key and as timeless as music and dance.
Like many of favorite old songs, you don’t stop the dance, you can’t stop the dance, you won’t stop the dance. The planet, She is benevolent that way, in this I have peace.