Liberation or Bust
All I can think is, I’m tired. I have been tired my entire life. I am tired of being tired. Tired of pushing through. I need a deeper kind of rest. I’m done.
Investigating the meaning of this story and sensation, my life floods in. Moments near and far. Things I haven’t thought of in a very long time. Things I set aside as I simply could no longer spend time and energy on them.
And there is a theme. There is an identity. I am tired of being treated like a thing.
I am tired of being used. I am tired of being disrespected. I am tired of being abused.
All my life, people have treated me like absolute shit. Raised in the cultish communities that arose as a result of the Theosophical Society, that particular flavour of white supremacist patriarchy is vicious and insidious. It denies itself. It gaslights and it abuses.
It is difficult to come to terms with. It is the life I have led. The good, the bad and the ugly. I have spent considerable time sorting through it. Examining and testing. Finding out if anything is real.
Ojai is ground zero. Hollywood, it’s playground.
It’s all a trap. The religious right; the orthodox, one God oppressors, proudly proclaim their intentions to continue their thousand year mission of ultimate dominion. The alternative; appearing to be the antithesis, they attract seekers, those wishing to free themselves, but in their own deluded state, uphold and recreate the very systems it claims to challenge and resolve.
I haven't a doorway to heaven but a mirror
By which I experience the wonder of possibility
The salvation of the self
Ultimately, whether there is one god, many gods or no god at all, the narrative of oppression remains consistent. Violence, slavery, supremacy, manipulation. It requires expert vigilance and an almost annihilating level of honesty to maintain clarity. It requires everything.
I exist today in honor of generations who made my existence possible. Every single act of resistance. Across space and time. It’s all here now. It’s all we have.
It’s all I have.
I can’t say I chose this path, it just is. It’s always been. But I choose it now because I must. There is nothing else. I cannot lie because I know. I see. I have seen.
This is what I have to offer. It’s nothing fancy. It can be difficult and painful. But I have seen where the other road leads over and over and it’s nowhere. It goes nowhere. And to witness the grief of the dying is to see this and know this.
So I put my trust in the process. The process is all there is. To be present in this day and this time and be what is. It is my freedom for which I am in great appreciation. It comes with sacrifice but that is life.