I was triggered into some fiery rage this morning by the contents of my world. As I allowed the words and the Rage to flow through my body mind and out onto the paper I made space within to fully feel. Writing allowed me to soften. Humans allowed me to be triggered fully and completely into my rage. Some of the words I shared this morning:
The poison pumping through my body mind is fierce. I am full of anger and resentment. I feel tiny and small. I feel fucking fiery! My body is full of tension. I feel like there has been no space in my week. I feel the lack, the deprivation. Fuck! I want to rage. I want to burn down the structure of this existence. I don't choose lack or smallness or deprivation. I choose magical spaciousness. I choose Community. I choose Fully Alive - living with all my senses engaged. The content of my world is a feeling of lack of time and space for Self. This has given me access to the rage that lives inside of me... combined with reading about residential schools allows me to access the rage that lives inside of me.
I always feel a bitterness inside of my body mind when I use the words "our culture" because I don't feel like I have one. And I know that there are many cultures that live generationally, side by side, in Community - Helping and sharing and guiding and supporting. Looking to the Earth as a collaborator on our journey, harvesting our medicines from natural sources, learning and living the ways of the land in reciprocity and natural abundance. My soul longs for that way of being. I live with the knowledge that the Earth I live on holds the resonance for that way of life. I live with the knowing that my body has a resonance for that way of life.
I live on land that knows this way of life, of living and of being. The only reason we don't still live like that is because someone thought they knew better. The Traditions, the ceremonies and that way of being was taken away. That way of living was looked down upon and an entirely beautiful culture of people were assimilated into a way of living that doesn't feed our soul, that's not reciprocal to the Earth and leaves people feeling isolated and alone.
My rage is a lifetime of witnessing and knowing parenting as servitude and isolation.
My rage is knowing that the way of life I am seeking, that calls to my heart and soul, that I'm desperate to know again, was forcibly taken.
My rage is the normalization of isolation and deprivation, hoarding and hiding!
I often don't speak of the rage that lives inside of me. There are so many layers to this I know this is just a tiny little piece of what's going to come out of me.