dancing in binary

i woke dancing in Binary.  fluidly playing and bending, killing and birthing. Binary didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.  he never asked to be everything.  just wanted to see the sunshine sometimes.  be a part of creation, a part of community.  

me too.

i woke with this notion…

the Divine Masculine has forgotten how to worship the Divine Feminine. perhaps the dimension of humxn consciousness evolved an amnesia of sorts.  as if they are meeting for the first time, Masculine sizing up, Feminine flowing wild.  they forget that they have been long time lovers, and that with their dance, they have created worlds.  

evolution is a curious conception.  an opening of what was rolled up, an unfolding.   to be conscious is to be aware, to be the observer and  bring our attention to ALL of unfolding, the within and without. and of course this lives beyond any binary, but it lives within it too.  

i experience that it is not for me to judge personal or cultural Mythology. the way we experience Sentience is a Sacred infinity.  truth can be found in a grain of sand.  how that Mythology manifests in creation however,  in relationship to the Being-ness of all things, is wholly within my realm of Presence and accountability.  

this i experience as timeless

this i experience as Holy

the Sacred Dance of Creation…

i craft and weave these threads of Mythology with intention, and evolve practice, presence and ritual around them as i resonate with what this inspires in my actions and experience of life. my Ancestors guide, and i continue to seek them.

in this present and enduring patriarchal exploration within the conditions of humxn consciousness, where the active and organizing Masculine moves distanced, seemingly withdrawn from the wisdom of the infinite and creative Feminine, we experience a culture rich in misaligned fear, laden with constriction and control, rampant in narcissism, literalism and flailing action. we move with grossly magnified notions of competition, forge and engorge terrorizing hierarchies, racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, and a  pseudo-authority over Earth and all of their creatures. we engage in oppression olympics, stifle our creativity, our experience of the Sacred obscured. the fog of commoditization, and manipulation of our humxn technologies, pollute our vision. stern religious interpretations, coarse righteousness and appropriation despotize our lives. 

we live under the tyranny of endless flaccid bureaucracy, endless war, rigid labeling and compartmentalizing, cancel culturing, projecting, expertism, fame, overactive strategizing, intellectual pontificating laced with trendy, performative compassion, gaslighting, suppression of emotion, oppression of emotional bodies, un-serving translation of emotional language, inflexible cultural frameworks, rigid identity roles, malevolently shallow beauty standards, illusion of dominion over, rampant insincerity and continuing violences of all sorts.

while the presence of the Feminine is in all spaces always (and this exploration of the Divine as binary at all is simply my attempt to fathom and play), her Wisdom feels to me largely unrecognizable to the collective humxn gaze. she is perceived with contempt, perceived with exhaustingly stubborn, vacuous interpretations of fear.  implicitly devalued in the hegemonic cultural Mythology, She is reasoned deviant and immature, rousing of wild irregularities that must be governed, constrained, rendered controllable and ultimately possessed.

 i am in gratitude for spaces of reimagining and exploration, rich with the deliciousness of journey, wonder and invitation. yet i often feel that even as we offer spaces more and more for anger and grief, we resist their Presence, tiptoe so as not to wake a sleeping dragon and we take our conversation to another room.  similar to the way we shush and shoo our children while the grown folks talk about grown folks business.   but i notice that when i sit with this i feel a void in my chest and as i explore all my feeling,  a slow rising, erotic burning i Know as my rage, who speaks to me as masterful compass and who’s potency articulates depth. when i travel deeper into the feeling, i recognize that i experience a generalized bypassing and a certain rigid, obstinate fragility around grief and rage, that we lack language, ritual, practice and Presence with.   we’ve become so distanced from the dark of the Feminine, the raw and wild wisdom of Her power, that we avert our eyes for the pretty shiny thing over there, anything really.  unknowingly begging for any distraction, while appearing in our minds eye to dwell Present in the journey of liberation. 

within the realm of humxn consciousness, Masculinity seems afflicted with a patriarchal amnesia, a fugue state through which He imprisons Himself.  forgotten to the depth of Her Knowing. He seeks to cage Her, to claim Her as territory, hide Her power from Herself, and thus avert Her wrath.   but She is an untamable Fire.  She Knows, that He cannot escape the Burn, the Surrender and bides her timelessness.  a reckoning is imminent, a reckoning as Presence, and not at all in the sense of any vengeance, sadism for its own sake, does not exist here.  instead it is an awakening to our potentiality for unfeigned surrender, bringing our full Presence to being with the journey of what lives right Now, our roles within that and the hurt that runs in all the directions. it is a leaning in, a falling to our knees, a conscious scraping away of what dams the pain and what compels us to hide from the truth of it.  it is the peeling back of our flesh, the storm washing over and through us letting it saturate, nourishing the passion to want it, even as it burns like salt to wound.  a celebration of the unimpeded flow of grief, of mourning.  of remembering Her.  this, as journey and moment, waves and point. this is not about trying, it is about the journey of Being. 

and there are weapons of mass distraction, to veer us from Presence.  guilt and shame masquerading as Presence and grief, and their corresponding performative actions feigning embodied accountability. there are constrictive interpretations of fear, habitual comforts and conveniences and trojan horses in the form of compulsory education.  all the ways we are drawn as conscious beings from a deep Knowing of Self as whole, Present, sovereign and part of a beautiful sentient community, horizontally, not vertically.

within the constructs of our times and in my current location, i move through space as queer, non binary Diasporic Black-Womxn.   i See ways that patriarchy, whiteness and anti-Blackness seek to render Presence inconspicuous.  and even though we are hungry for what lives buried, and accountable for what that inspires (as reflected in these moments facing us) we continue to dwell on the surface of things, because to delve deeper would mean facing sleeping dragons.  we turn away from facing what lives in the shadows of who we are, in exchange for the veneer of what we want to believe ourselves to be, in exchange for what we hope to be in some distant location, trading the abundance of Presence right Now for some fixed and centered notion of self independent of Ancestry, journey and the creativity and fluidity of sentience.  we feel safer even in the violence of this familiar. its easier, to get on with the fixing, the strategizing, the politicizing, the pontificating; easier to engage in hollow or distracted action to avert the dread we experience when we look in the mirror and hold our gaze. 

grief and rage conspire in our favor.  they are the keepers of secrets that dwell in apparitions of the marrow.  they are portal to Presence.  they lend lantern to the dark and cavernous.  offer directionality and expansion; are sensual and passionate, honest and generous, free of narcissism.  they crack the door, but we must choose.  their potency a prayer for our liberation.  their language a Sacred Poetic.  their love runs deep, is alchemic and they invite us to commune with them in the field of surrender.  

they claim their space at the table and they won’t be denied…

and all of this

is love


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