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.
The Dark Never Travels Alone
Getting off track or maybe it's on track. Who fucking knows.
The stress of doomsday lives in my heart. I know it's a possibility but I also know that I can look out another window and sunshine is waiting to receive the gaze of my eyes. It's all perspective.
MANASIAH AKPALIAIPIK - Screaming Faces, 1991
Ask yourself, is it really gray outside? Is the future bleak? What data are you assessing that justifies a narrative that causes commotion in your heart? What's first, the emotions or the narrative? The feeling or the thought? It's hard to tell at times. It's that whole chicken and egg thing. What came first. It's so swift and fast, difficult to decipher the order of operations.
Sunshine is there. Darkness never travels alone. But it requires effort and awareness to change the direction of our lens, pointing the binoculars towards another horizon and suddenly you see the rainbow above.
This makes me reflect on the miracle of this moment. The sun. The sun shining down on this planet. I mean, how do we make sense of such a grand gesture from the divine? Names don't do it justice. It cannot be named, it can only be experienced with awareness, yet we will never experience the whole, simply bits and pieces when we take a moment to pause and remember.
Oof, what a trip of a fucking world we live in and I'm not talking about the world as in this planet, I'm referring to the little worlds we create within our minds and hold onto a pseudo truth, then we kill for this truth, we die for this truth.
Illusory certainty will be the death of humanity.
This brings a smile to my face. Fills my body with joy to remember. To look through another window.
Light. I can dwell in the dark.
She reminds me, we remind each other, there are other windows.
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.