babies in utero
it’s my current belief that i am light first before i am human. and i entertain that humanity and its relationships are like wallpaper hanging in a home. a design one can peel away. possibly re-decorate. or re-purpose. the home is the point.
my ultimate agency, my freedom, rests more in my soul than in my humanity. i entertain that i can re-purpose the breath within my cellular structure to understand, more thoroughly, the resonance of love. the is’ness of love which i also like to call home. i swim in that truth.
every moment a moment to rebirth. to re-member. re-organize myself from that deep place of home. of light.
i’ve been thinking about ancestral memory again ... how experiences, thoughts, memories can get passed down to us not only via customary means but also energetically, molecularly somehow ... if my mother developed her ovaries while in utero while my grandmother was pregnant with her, then do i carry my grandmother’s memories in me? there are many cultures who posit we hold up to 7 generations of ancestral memory in our dna. i wonder ... does energy even function through conventional understandings of time?
i get curious about rigidity … what i determine as the visceral response that comes from fear-based belief and emotion (and is the opposite of expansive reactivity that tends to come with feelings of trust and ok’ness). i feel driven to investigate the rigidity that builds seemingly out of bloody nowhere … the sensations that suddenly grip me into experiences of anxiety, fear, dread. of being outcast. of danger. i sometimes wonder if these sensations carry with them the energetic threads of ages past. is the trigger a signal … an opportunity to finally resolve a something. a hurt. from those who stood before me. and i also wonder ... are they limited to what i know to be of mine? of my lineage. could they be of my neighbours and of the community. in other words … am i just picking up on shit? i’ve been meditating on how we can have memory (from our own varied experiences on the planet), how we can carry memory (from our ancestors and, i entertain, from previous lifetimes on this planet) and how we can pick up memory (from those around us and who share our planet). on that last note, i get curious. within the embrace of home that knows no boundary, how much of what we pick up (that is not really ours) … is ours to heal?
in the moment of the now. can i heal what was, what is now … what is of mine and not of mine. of us.
i think of the hawaiian spirituality, ho’oponopono. in essence, it speaks to a belief that we are all interconnected. it offers that if i happen across someone in distress, it’s my opportunity to heal that distress (in myself) .... since we are all linked. we are asked to say to ourselves “I love you, I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you” ... to ourselves. and in essence, heal the hurt that is swimming about in our collective hearts.
this leads me to responsibility. of the desire to live in service. of feeling into the interconnectedness of all of us … past, present and future. the responsibility. to serve as cleansing fire. resonant flame. a vibrational bushfire. energetic social action.
soft p politics, maybe
sensation. witness. hope. forgiveness. rebirth.
embrace.
to marry with active service. of action. let’s consider it (w)holistic global healing.
so then yiayia, in all dimensions, i cleanse you with all the fullness of my heart. no walls, actually. freedom.
within the vastness of our ever-expansive home, it seems we’ve birthed each other.