What We See

What We See

What we see is colonization, live.

What we see is what we have been given.

What we see is those who have gone beyond their means.

What we see is a way to fill the unfillable void.

What we see is the insatiable thirst for more.

What we see, we don’t want to believe.

What we see, we will regret.

What we see is the opposite of love.

What we see is selective care.

What we see is up to you and me.

Robert Colescott - School Days 1

Remind Me

Rocky Mountain National Park

The mountains remind me of how small I am. Humbling.

Travelling reminds me that the news never tells the whole story of a land and its people.

Conversations remind me that we all want the same thing at our core.

Lands tell a story, both beautiful and brutal.

Closing my eyes reminds me to listen to the wind,

to see with the third eye.

I am reminded that those who lead and govern do not serve in the best interest of the masses.

Was it always this way? Was there ever a time in history when a government served all?

What does it mean to serve?

I'll give you my perspective if you care to read.

Equality needs to begin at the basics.

Food, shelter, water, clothing. If all beings do not have these, then we are failing.

All of humanity is failing.

It matters neither to the micro nor the macro spirit—the karmic merry-go-round will continue its circular motion.

The exits are closed until the lessons are learned.

Personally, I have no issues with billionaires. We can have billionaires and nurture all beings.

We can have differences on what system is better, but honestly, it matters little to none.

If the heart is closed and the mind is corrupt, the system has no relevance. A system does not enlighten one.

It does not open our hearts.

If we love from the mind, then love is a manipulative illusion.

It is not love, for love is unconditional.

Mindful love is conditioned and coated in judgment.

We do not judge the mountains, the winds, the oceans, and the forests—

but we judge each other. Why?

Because most of us love nature from our hearts,

yet we forget that we too are nature, baked from the same ingredients as the fox that trots and the winds that sing.

I am reminded, and for that, I am grateful.

Unfulfilled Yearning

Three Americanos yesterday. I was buzzing and didn’t sleep till 1:30 a.m. I watched a few episodes of This Is Us, and it ignited some ancient emotions inside me.

A sadness, a longing for the family I haven’t yet had in this life.

I love the way the show moves between past and present. It inspires me to weave my own memories, to explore the threads of my own story.

I love that the desire to have a family has returned. I don’t think it ever really left. I just tucked it away, deep into unlocked drawers within me.

It’s something we all do with unfulfilled yearning. It’s too disruptive in day-to-day life to carry these longings openly, letting them sit on top of our hearts and minds. Some we save for another day, others we save for another life. And some yearnings rise back up from the depths of our soul to remind us that they need to be lived now, in this fleeting blip of a moment.

So I open myself to the desires that won’t wait for another day, for another life, and I pray for another chance. I pray for courage. Life has gifted me many chances, but I spent so much of this life moving through the world with a ball of confusion around my heart, clouding my mind and smothering my truth.

A fear birthed out of chaos. I chose what I feared less, which created an illusion of safety. An illusion that had no legs to carry me toward what I most yearned for, a yearning that couldn’t be saved for another day.

This longing reminds me that it will come with its own beautiful chaos—a love that I’m now ready for, as ready as one can be for something so grand.

It’s not that I’ve hardened my heart; rather, I’ve softened it. I’ve learned to embrace, endure, and appreciate the cracks that formed rivers from broken experiences.

Finca Mia Retreat Centre - Rivas, Costa Rica

Emptiness in Neutrality

I feel empty today—not in a negative way, just neutral. I don’t have the energy to create, reflect, or dig into any deep insights. But I also don’t feel down or heavy. I feel neutral—a nice place to be. From this space, I can handle the admin stuff. My heart feels good, alive, energized. There’s an energy moving through me as I write.

Winding down, spending my evenings in silence with my journals and books, and beginning my mornings in the same quiet are meditations in themselves. I notice the subtle energies inside and outside of me, although I’m still tuning back into the external world. I’m not really doing anything, just learning to be within the being, to exist in the stillness. I simply observe.

Becoming the watcher once again.

I’m in this space, in this body, on this Earth, spinning and whirling on a floating ball in the universe. Just a blip in the system. What are we doing? What are we supposed to be doing? It’s such an odd thing to be human. Are we here to clean up karma from our lineage? Are we here to be tested? We have all these different ways to "sin"—good deeds, bad deeds. But what's the point of complaining about anything?

Super Moon in Aries

It’s so strange; I don’t think humans have really changed that much. The evolution of technology gives the illusion of human evolution, but in reality, we’re either on the side of making cool stuff or using it.

I yearn for a simple life. I want to enjoy this Earth as she was meant to be enjoyed. To align with her rhythm and dance to her tune, not the other way around. If we could just look up at the moon and remember we are nothingness, we might arrive at a place of humility, love, and deep connection. From that place, we’ll find everything we need. Because, really, we’re just not all that. Just a bunch of little ants with two feet, crawling around on this rock with inflated egos, trying to convince each other of what's right and wrong, defining morals that are complex and comparative. But in the end, it's all an illusion, a way to divide us from ourselves and each other.

What a strange thing it is to despise someone because of the colour of their skin, the name on their passport, or the religion they were born into. What a bizarre thing it is to make another suffer because of how they believe in God, how they dress, or how much money they have. It’s all so strange—the way we raise our children, how resistant we are to change, and how easily we’re coerced into devastating ideologies.

We’re really not that bright. I want to say we’re borderline idiotic, but I know that’s not kind. Maybe we’re just a collection of dummies. You know, I believe in God. I believe in Source, in the Divine, in angels and guides, in beings that are exponentially more enlightened than us—a place we may never reach. But every now and then, I wonder: Is there something wrong with God’s manufacturing plant? Are they using expired ingredients?

Of course, maybe there’s a greater plan, and we’re just too limited in these human costumes to see it. And even if we could see it, maybe our minds are too limited to understand. Perhaps the truth is right in front of us, and that’s the problem—we’re too close to see it.

It always comes back to the mind. But why? Why is the mind so vulnerable? I understand the physical body reflects the Earth, and I see the soul as a reflection of the Divine. But what about the mind? Why is it so easily attacked, while the heart is so easily broken? Yes, the heart’s purpose is to love, but I feel there’s more to explore there. Or maybe we just need to learn what love really is because at the moment we’re fucking terrible at it.

The mind. The heart. One is easily manipulated, the other easily broken.

A Moment of Reflection

At the Hart House for an R&B concert.

I feel like I need to be here, but I’m looking for some guidance, something more than just this déjà vu feeling.

What is this?

Is there anything I need to do beyond what I’m already doing in this moment?

Simply be as you are.

I am.

Your heart.

How is your heart in this moment?

Are you happy with your choice to come to this event tonight?

I feel a little emotional when I sense this feeling.

You know the one I’m talking about?

Like I’ve been here before, or that I’m exactly where I need to be?

Is that it? Is that the story for this evening?

Listen to music and go home?

Seems like a small ending to such a big feeling, doesn’t it?

“Beauty of artists is to seek for truth. Each note is a search for truth.”

I can relate.

For me, each word is my way of searching for the truth.

Searching for the truth from within.

It’s 10:45 now. The concert’s over.

I saw the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a while.

I liked her energy; she naturally embodied the feminine.

Her smile shines as brightly as the ring on her finger.

The kind that lights up every room she enters.

The 'Other' Woman

Those words, those words we use to degrade and label others, are endless when it comes to women. Not to say that men aren't pressured by societal expectations—it's just that we bring women down so much more in our societies. We perfect them in our media, raise them on who they should be, not who they are.

Here’s the measure of a perfect woman:

Please spend your entire life working towards being someone and something unachievable, something that guarantees failure in the eyes of the complex society that surrounds you. Their gazes wrap around you, suffocating you. It's hard to breathe, hard to see your worth, to see your own beauty, because every morning when you look in the mirror, you see everything you aren’t.

You’ve built a wall. You’ve painted someone else onto your mirrors, someone you want to see because society has formed the model you must aspire to be.

Every now and then, you peek behind the painting, but you quickly step back because you’ve failed to become the "other." All that’s left is you—a beautiful you—tucked beneath the layers of expectations that others have thrown on you, expectations you can never fulfill. Because we can never be someone else when we are our self.

How could you possibly be the "other"? Where would the "other" fit inside you? There’s no reason to try, because you have your own heart, your own soul, your body, and your mind. You’ve been wearing the clothes of the "other," but they will never penetrate your being.

So, you failed to become the woman you painted on your mirrors, and in the process, you’ve suppressed your self. Where do you stand now? In the middle of nowhere. You hate yourself and you’ve failed to become the "other."

Where are you now? How do you feel when you get home and take off the "other's" clothes?

When will you begin to remove the painting from your mirrors and replace it with the portrait of your self?

Pick up that shovel and rid yourself of the dirt that has been thrown over you your entire life. Show me. Show us. I beg you. We need you to express yourself. We cannot survive without you.

Let us see your self-portrait.

I love you. We love you. And you need to love you. Just allow yourself to be the beauty you’ve always been.