Survivors witness and feel beneath the story... Fragmented, often locked away in an unconscious vault; we banish pain in order to survive it.
This year has taught me one thing: In doing fewer things and sitting with nothingness and boredom, I’ve started hearing the murmurs of my soul.
Never again will we entertain this tyranny that wears a thousand divisive masks but is always a scared and greed-scarred child-man hiding behind a curtain.
At the meditation retreat, I cried in the shower. I cried for so much bullshit. raw and exposed, and feeling so close to something real and constant, I let loose.
If being honest when someone asks you 'How are you' is too taboo, let’s stop asking the question altogether. We all feel that pressure to be light, glazed over, and happy like a Barbie doll on downers, when we are all dying and waking up in equal measure. Give more energy and time to reality ...