Coming Back to Stillness

Focusing the mind and listening inward, to direct Self through loving desire. The technological devices, seemingly, further fracturing our ability to pay attention and truly listen. Everything moving faster, upgrades, take overs, new trends, stocks and bonds, bitcoins and crypto, chase it, go after it, make more, extract more…addiction, generations XYZ, labels, mental “illnesses”, ADHD, neuro-divergency, regressive-aggressive-late-diagnosis, autism, personality spectrum disorder, auto-immune issues, fatigue, brain fog, peri-menopause, menopause, PMS, STD….and on, and on and on…WHAT IS THIS LIIIIFE?! What does it all mean?

The older and more exhausted I become, the less I want to listen to any of it. Quietude and nature is inviting…it’s peaceful. To live alone making peace with my own quirks and compulsions…simply living life on my own terms and enjoying the depth of an inner voice and connection that suits me with no regard for fitting into a world that seems to be based on lies, injustice and denial.

Denial is a mask, a death of sorts. Denial is self-deception and a bypassing of deeper truth. Denial is necessary to uphold illusions and the injustices that weave the fabric of our global culture. We the people have been sold a dream, that’s actually a living nightmare, and we fear the alternative, so we deny our power, bypassing hard truths and carry on grasping onto labels, small talk and consumption patterns that keep us numb.

I suppose, nothing is inherently wrong with any of it. Who am I? Another ant marching, making her way, sitting in bed, early in the morning writing, noodling, sharing thought form and ideas that flow through. At this point, it’s all just flow. I seem unable to know anything for sure. Simpleness and quietude is a type of luxury. I don’t care to care any more. I’m tired of it all…all the voices and information ‘out there’. The noise.

The Sun, sky, insects, creatures (that don’t speak in human language), clouds, trees, plants…it’s pull is stronger than ever now. Growing my own food, letting my hair grow long and listening to my body, as it continues to rest into now. It’s all too tantalising. The world ‘out there’ never had a strong enough pull on me…and the times it did, I got sick or hurt, attacked, raped by the sickness of the culture. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want what it is selling me…because what it’s selling is only perpetuating more trauma, disconnection and division. Wrapped in a sort of glamorous sexy case. Truth is sexier to me. Honesty and ugly crying is true glamour, because that is what actually healed my body.

Alchemy. Alignment. Creativity. vs. Denial. Disconnection. Consumption.

I have already died. Died to the illusion. All the masks shedding, perpetually cascading off the dreamy projection of my fluctuating existence. Past lives, here now, living eternally, unfolding into dust. Nothing to hold onto.

I’ll keep writing, for now. Cause it feels better than the old pattern. I want to listen and create and play. My ancestors are happy now, applauding my dance.

What and who are you dancing with? Do you remember how to create and play authentically? Have any joy left? Can you feel…it all? Just curious. Curiosity and compassion can lead from here on out. Less knowing, more flowing.

Holla. That’s all for now.

Thanks for being here with me.

Misunderstood and loving the quietude,

MJ xo