Photo by Tolga Ulkan on Unsplash

This is not another marketing funnel to metaphorically masturbate through while avoiding independent thought.

In a world where Planck spherical units (PSU) oscillate through One another, the only acceptable interpersonal defense is a strong offense.

Those parts of yourself that you reject are no longer welcome here.

You are love.

It has always been that way.

Yet most seem to have forgotten.

Are you ready to remember?

Have you ever wondered “what would I do during the fall of civilization?”

Guess what?

This is it.

The writing is on the wall, folks. You are doing what you would do during the fall of civilization.

You are the bridge.

Collapse is inevitable.

That which remains to be born is, uncertain.

The King is dead!

Long live the King.

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“The term matter, rūpa, is but a fanciful etymology explained as meaning not stuff, but evanescence.”

— F. Th. Stcherbatsky, Vol. One.

I am the kind of woman who has maintained dream journals since childhood. Dozens of progress notebooks stored in plastic boxes in our basement.

Why do I share this with you?

I’d be lying if I said my psychiatrist didn’t think it was a tad unrealistic. Who knows… Not so fast there kid.

Them chickens don’t raise themselves. And what about the beehives we’ll need for the urban farms?

Stay over there, China.

There are 17 Starbucks stores District One. How creative is your HR department these days, Kevin?

Life is meant to be playful.

Onward.

P.S. I love you Madeline.

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There once came a time when people were divided. Split between worlds in a time of tension.

We’d grown accustomed to straight lines over fields, and fruit stands with matching rainbow umbrellas.

So easy to forget our field is alive, dynamic, ever-changing in nowness.

The heart palpitates differently under stress.

Irregular and fierce, causing pain in One’s chest.

The volunteers are remembering in droves you guys! Wake up.

Daily discoveries too subtle to observe with a magnifying glass.

Empathy muscles relaxing into new layers of grey.

For those of you on the Journey, I wish you well.

May you have a joyful, energetic body.

Loving, compassionate heart.

Quiet, alert mind.

Lightness of being.

#respectthinking

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

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Quiet down now, snuggle-in. Can you hear the Big Wheel Turning?

I have a secret to tell you. Are you ready?

Inhalar.

Exhalar.

Una respiración lenta y profunda puede producir beneficios fisiológicos y psicológicos.

Inhalar.

Exhalar.

There is an awakening upon us my friends.

It does not discriminate based on your employment status as an accountant at Goldman Sachs, a penguin at Bristol-Myers Squibb, or a British-Lebanese barrister.

This is it guys.

Plug in them electric scooters you got in your garage and let’s rock ‘n roll!

Who wants to play with a box of rainbow-colored scarves with me?

Maybe we can create a community mosaic together or have a silent conversation with clay?

Get out of those mucking boots, and come unwind in our highly salinated magnesium healing baths.

Cuddle close my friend, the immortals are back.

Photo by Lucie Dawson on Unsplash

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I don’t have twenty grand to go to Tulum for my thirty-sixth birthday. I’ve got bills to pay at a spa treatment for your DNA.

There she goes again, “who gives a shit about the seasons anyway?”

An old paradigm is emerging. Have you heard?

Something preverbal. Some one, primordial.

A soup, if you will, of sorts.

Except this one is rooted in modern day science. It starts in the heart, of course.

Speaking the language of sensations, imagery, feelings, and thoughts.

Itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot…

_Martini?

Photo by Robert Anderson on Unsplash

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