We Started It | Here We Stand
My acknowledgement to all the dear brave Ones who Stand Here Now on the threshold of the unknown.
Tough cookies, wild women, feline lovers, nature spirits, wind riders, deep thinkers, wild men, all beings large and small and the vast space in between that Knows All.
We Started It and Here We Stand; Individuated Lovers of Life.
Here We Stand; beacons of light, pillars of strength, towers of sound reaching further than others have dared to go. Resonant in our emerging power, supporting each other moment by moment as the final ticks of the Cosmic clock are unwinding our lives in retrograde motion. Reliving the battles of long ago, we stand watching what we started come to an inevitable closure. This is difficult, this final task.
Here We Stand; voices rising in the dark night of the collective human soul, singing in the face of a wall built of a system that doesn’t care, systems within systems that swallowed up the consciousness of brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, a violent hum of destruction that tolerates not the Lover’s song, nor the joyous bubbles of laughter, the innocence of the child, the seer and the dreamer.
And when one dares to freedom, to sovereignty, the shadow gathers around, a swirling dark mass of unlived lives, of fear, of judgment, of condemnation for the one who chose to walk through the gates of hell. It seeks the cracks, the deep mind codes of doubt and fear, relentless in its projection for it knows not what it does, its own mind long ago lost to a foreign host, its humanity buried deep in its own dying flesh.
Here We Stand, these words speak volumes of courage, of resolve, of conviction that no matter what there is no force greater than Love, there is no Law outside of a soul whose heart has been cracked open so many times that there can be no space for other than Love’s out pouring Grace.
Here We Stand, together now.
Inside this female heart grows a roar again, the outraging of a Mother’s Love for her children, for the ones forgotten, for the sons of friends, battered and abused by a system that gnashes its sharp grinding teeth on a child’s flesh.
Here We Stand. I say to the watchers and the observers … to the doubters and the timid, to the onlookers who cower inside a sense of false safety, to the ones who don’t speak, to the ones who allow this state of barbarity to rule, to you I speak now.
But wait, before I go on, allow me to express my gratitude to each of you who know who you are, you are system busters, rebellious brave souls on a mission, those who have risen again and again, each are my wind and my inspiration, my admiration for each of you is immense, to see such beauty even as the dark armies crash into your world, while you claim your sovereign self as the churning of the mechanical gears try to crush you in its grips. To you my friends that grow more invisible every day, to you my friends that choose Truth above all, to you dear ones who wrote these words with me; it is my honor to serve with you, to stand here, recalling even as my own heart sunk you stood next to me as I stand with you. We are legion, we are The Force, together We Stand, together the tide is rising.
I have often questioned these past weeks why I write, what motivates my words, where do they birth from, and sadly I have dipped to feel that there seems to be no point in continuing until I look again on the digital page and read the words of others, feel the heart pulse that like a new shoot in the thawing ground of Earth reaches again for the light of the sun, stretches out new growth toward heaven.
Until I move through the web of my own deep mind that spins almost unseen in the dark a shadow of doubt, these echoes of the past still haunt so I go deeper inside. The mind is a tricky master indeed, it has many a hidden threads that informs in an insidious way. It demands its due, belief is extracted again and again.
My view is movable, changing from one moment to the next, this upsets the mind and my identity to no end. Mind wants me to anchor, to feel sheltered and identifiable. I rebel and in my rebellion am faced with a sense of desolation, an aloneness and from these feelings arise so many seemingly insurmountable puzzles… the great question Who Am I? lurks like a dark shadow. Ha! it mocks me; “so you thought you knew” it smirks. My scanning gaze looks to the rocks, to the sky, to the trees and to the waters edge… is this me she asks? Am I but all of this? Discomfort is felt in this merging view. Yes! the beauty of Her is profound, unfathomable really, once my awareness settles a bit I see that there is no limit to Her, to me, to potentiality. Ah, little child soul still quivers at the impact of this realization so trained to be someone, to leave my mark upon this world. Ah ha! next thought is; that this is what we have done, left our mark upon this world, every rock remembers, so that we don’t forget.
I want to scoop this all back up inside of me, the eons of time passed in the blinking of an eye. Distill it down to one drop of liquid gold, this passage cleared now … this looping time ended now. The lessons learned.
So to those of you who will not read these words, to those who stay blinded and blinking in systematic deniability I speak, a voice into the dark collective soul of humanity that Knows, has always known what is right and what is wrong. You who have allowed your senses to be swayed, your mother’s protecting roar quieted into the false belief that if your world conforms to some comfort you have arrived. This dear ones for me does not work, my mind can not believe this lie for the heart knows that whatever is done to the less of us is done to the whole. I can’t rest on laurels or any such prickly bestowed upon me thought forms. Propelled now through the jet streams of emerging consciousness the path narrows into a final focal point and from the spiraling of creation Herself we will emerge.
Yes, we started it and only in Trust of Her, of Life, of Love’s ultimate Grace will we emerge into the Unknown, childlike again in wonder and awe.
Each of you who will read these words, your honesty, your transparency changes more than any of us will most likely ever know.
Here We Stand.
She goes deeper, she has been silent for too many days and the muse turns on.
The Mind Factor.
The careful observer watches silently as the mind fabricates a reality, visions that lead to words that lead to a construction. Um? She ponders this night and day. A construct, the mind being a construct and underlying it is a consciousness that is observant to its creations. How many subtle layers emerge while thus observing.
We aren’t trained to question this, we simply agree or disagree with what the mind is projecting, mostly we agree as that our predominate reality is the one we ourselves constructed. Is that what Spiritwind meant when she said “I Started It” ?
What She carefully observes along with the accompanying discomfort is how the mind continuously feeds the projection in which we agree. So we see a world that is war torn, dysfunctional, highly contaminated, dying even and an inertia that holds it in place. Fear? Yes, she feels this is what we ultimately are dealing with, fear of freedom so we project the shadow, the other onto the screen of the world view.
She has admitted this to herself, this sense of no boundaries, of ultimate playful freedom frightens her as it strips her of all her pretenses, all the webs of the mind are laid bare, vibratory strings of energy projecting themselves into space. She knows that she isn’t free yet or she would fly.
If she continues on this route, ripping rents in the fabric of reality what will happen? Have we made this mistake before? Was it a mistake? Who is the finger pointer and blamer and controller of this reality that refuses to budge from its postured throne?
The perfect tone that she finds again is Truth, is Beauty, is Her … is astounding in Her expression, organic, wild, primal beauty manifesting in endless waves of expression. The high notes and the low notes, the geyser of Life’s waters forever sourcing and renewing. How could we mistake this expression for a technology that imitates, mimics and reduces Life to a pixel of a thought that we think we can capture and use without the depth of perception from which it springs.
She will rest here momentarily to contemplate further what push, what shove, what counter force we have agreed to, that which propels us to further reaches of space, forever unfolding within the constructs of even our loftiest thoughts.
She smiles.