Mother Grief has called us once again
to the circle where we know ourselves unrelentingly
and forever
as the natural feedback system of planet earth.
Grief cannot be bent, shaped, or manipulated to fit the language of daylight.
She speaks only the language of the night.
She is dishonored by mentalism, debate, drama, and othering.
She speaks in tongues
that take us beyond the culture of light, familiarity, and the rational mind—
through the primordial portal of darkness and not knowing.
.
She knows only that the madness we feel is called Love—
That every child ever born on this earth is our own—
That every land and every sentient being is sacred.
She knows that the answers don’t exist on the brightly lit screen
or the comfortable cycle of talking
and thinking
and talking
and thinking.
Mother grief is demanding now that we listen
and see— not with our ears or eyes,
but through the living spirit that animates us.
Listen—
How do you hear and sense grief speaking?
Is it through the ancient language of wailing tears, tender touch, shattering heartache?
Is it through the mesmerizing impermanence of autumn leaves?
Is it through the language of gravity, calling us to come home to our belonging in each moment?
Or perhaps through the language of a still cave who knows just mineral speak, stardust, and echoes of the ancients?
My prayer in this time is that we welcome the night
without once again trying to turn on the lights.
That we let our shared grief inform us.
If there is any chance of human consciousness changing,
awakening to its own delusions,
this will come from remembering night time vision,
re-learning to see in the dark, to see anew.
This seeing will dawn as both a fresh perspective
and the recognition that unity is all we’ve ever known.
All that has ever mattered to us.
Mother grief is inviting us to go beyond
the way of polarization
and tribalism
that's been imprinted on human consciousness for thousands of years.
And even if things never change in our lifetime,
At least we opened our hearts and asked,
Who are we really?
Who are we here to be?
What is ours to let go in order to protect life?
It's time to close our eyes and listen to mother grief.
