Vamos a comenzar una serie de pláticas en español, hoy jueves 18 de marzo a las 7:30 p.m., tiempo Pacifico. Nos reuniremos cada jueves a la misma hora.
El tema de las pláticas serán las tradiciones de resistencia espiritual este continente americano vió nacer.
Pueden registrarse en my canal de YouTube:
https://youtube.com/KoyotetheBlind
También transmitiremos en vivo en mi pagina de Facebook (The Telling by Koyote the Blind) e Instagram.
(Arte de Xochitl Flores Xochitl Flores Jaramillo)
… Lo que si puedo observar es que en las profundas lejanías de la noche, allá en lo profundo del cielo nocturno donde la noche y el silencio son perennes e idénticos, las estrellas tiritan silenciosas y lejanas; dejándome percibir a través del inmenso vacío las vibraciones del silencio.
… What I can observe is that in the profound remoteness of the night, there in the depth of the nocturnal sky where the night and the silence are perennial and identical, the stars tremble silent and distant; allowing me to perceive through the immense void the vibrations of silence.
Ahora veo claro, bien amada de mis íntimos anhelos, que hasta en lo descartado y olvidado se manifiesta tu infinita presencia, llamando a tu amado, implorando desde la profundidad de tu santa ausencia que recuerde.
Now I see clearly, beloved of my yearnings, that even in the discarded and forgotten your infinite presence manifests, calling your beloved, imploring from the depths of your holy absence to remember.
Que vuelva tu risa.
Que tu luz no se apague.
Que se espanten los miedos y te huyan las sombras.
Que tu cama te acoja seca y suave.
Que la loma sostenga tus pasos y te vea correr.
Que la luna no te llame en vano.
Que tu voz ya nunca más resuene en ecos de paredes frías y duras cuando llames a tu mamá.
——- (translation)
May your laughter come back.
May your light not extinguish.
May the fears recoil and the shadows run from you.
May your bed embrace you dry and soft.
May the hill hold your steps and see you run.
May the moon not call you in vain.
May your voice never more resound in echoes of walls, cold and hard, when you call for your mom.
My, oh my!
How polite you sound when you tell me to tone it down, to not be divisive, or polarize.
Ooh! I love it when you show up all enlightened to explain that the spiritual path is to detach, to go inside, and not dirty your white mind with the mob’s concerns.
You make me tingle. Kundalini awakes! See how free you look, how happy and gentle your unconditional love for all puppies and saints.
I’m amazed at the way you misquote those dead holy men. Inspired! Awake!
Privileged? Who dared called you that? Don’t they know you transcend race, darkness, and class?
But don’t listen to them. Don’t let that word melt your visage. I’m sure they are stuck in old thinking, 3-D concerns. They’re probably sheep who follow the beat of the fake media who never wants peace.
Privilege, you? Forgive them. They do not know. The troubles and pains you’ve had to endure! How much it took to get you there, with all your certificates, travels, and mirth. You also had to struggle, I’m sure it’s the same.
Don’t worry. Detach. Disconnect for a while. Take a break from having to hear about race, oppression, and strife. It’s better for you, better for all. Stay gentle and pure. Smile, breathe, count your blessings and teach.
More than 100 people are in prison for third degree rioting in Minneapolis today. Justice moves faster for some.
They should have painted their faces and dressed like native Americans while throwing private property in the water, hiding in the dark. That’s how you rebel against tyranny in this country. They’d be heroes instead.
More than anything, please remember to take it all with the right perspective. What you saw was just a bad apple executing an innocent man in broad daylight. Horrible, of course. But don’t blame the men in blue. Most never killed black men. Some only stood guard, and others held down. Most are not rotten apples, more like silent worms feeding off the rot.
Don’t blame all cops. We don’t know all sides. There was the matter of $20 someone had forged. How do you feel now? We don’t know who did that. Not at all, but we could all see in broad daylight that that man was obviously guilty of being black. There’s no denying that.
Do not blame the blue. Who else will protect the business and rights of the Neo-nazi to march?
Brave is the gang in blue, keeping their cool when white men with too many guns get angry over too many masks. Because that’s not scary, no. Not at all.
Finally, remember to never ever take the knee when the National anthem is playing. That’s unpatriotic. Do it when the people are pleading with you to stand up, when you’re wearing blue, when the scary man of color is under you.
What happened to last night’s storm?
Where is the lightning and the rain?
Where, the furious stentor,
and the rumbling of heaven?
What happened to the pleasures of youth,
Where did the touch of your fingers go?
Where, the ecstatic sigh,
and the shirtless defiance against the past?
Whatever happened while I drifted away
into the limitless hug of death?
Now, is only a clean world,
bright and fresh,
sprinkled with songs of birds
and the smells of spring,
of soil,
of dew.
Now, only the aftermath,
a world renewed and the ample breath
holds my soul
after our light-storm took me into the night.
Emptiness pouring itself into emptiness. Light merging with light. Darkness hiding behind darkness.
Nothing is, nothing will be, and no thing ever was.
All witnessing is just the intersection of these gentle soft strings; it’s just the interplay of word over vibration creating the illusion of continuity, creating the sensation of tapestry and feel.
In the intersection of light and dark, there by the Road’s End, the weaver weaves. The hands create tales and sights untold: untruthful, meaningless, fathomless, groundless.
There by the Road’s End, where the ways intersect, you can almost hear the weird sound of the ticking and tapping of the Kindly Ladies weaving your life, ending your life.
All that begins one day comes to an end, there by the Road’s End.
Illumination is not
some unreachable and mysterious
attainment.
Eliminate the distractions.
Know
it is possible;
for it is already in you.
The process of connecting
with your truth begins with
removing the shadow of forgetfulness
that you were assailed with
when you took an organic incarnation.
In this uncovering
there is truth.
When the vast dark consciousness
is clear and clean
the truth shines
like the reflection of the moon
in water.
Truth is beyond any notion
of lineage,
of tradition,
beyond any history.
If you don’t have it,
no one can give it to you.
It is not in learning.
It is in the removal of the dross
that obscures.
Anything that can be given to you
belongs in the arena of mentation and ideas:
equally false and only partially true.
And the truth,
which is above that,
you have.
The only thing you can attain
is
yourself.
It’s just that ‘yourself’ is
a lot more
than you suspect.
(From a lecture by The Telling by Koyote the Blind. Poetically curated by Season Cole)
If you have been complaining of the suffering you are enduring because of the lockdown, AND comparing seeing people in masks with a police state and Nazi Germany, this message is for you.
I understand you are suffering because you can’t go to the beach, you can’t get your latte and sit down on your computer, you can’t get your massage, your facial, and go to your yoga class. I understand seeing people in gloves and masks scare you because life is not business a usual. I get it. You are going through a disruption of your routine and you complain. Your friends commiserate and tell you they are with you.
Well, I’ve lived in a police state, under martial law, repression and civil war. I respect the feelings of everyone here for not being able to go to the beach and engage in your favorite form of relaxation. I do. But think again before you compare your plight to nazi Germany, or any other true police state. To be asked to wear a mask and stay semi away for a couple of months (without consequences if you don’t comply) is not the same as running from bullets, being tortured, and seeing your loved one taken in the trunck of a car to be tortured, raped, and dismembered for reading a forbidden book, for attending a rally, or for listening to the wrong guitar player.
I get this is new for you, and that you believe what right wing conspiracy liars are saying (I know you’ll say this is not so and you do your own research and everyone else is sheep and asleep—I know you believe that—but these ideas all were crafted and promoted by right wing white supremacist groups; check it out). Either way, even if you are right about what is happening and this virus that have killed so many is a hoax, you are way far from the suffering of a police state. I know, the suffering of the entitled hurts just as much in their limited experience, but consider the possibility that this is simply you suffering a slight alteration of an otherwise good existence, and don’t compare it to other experiences you haven’t had, not in front of those of us who have.
While we are here clarifying terms, this lockdown is no martial law, and White entitled supremacists in the South having a rally protesting a right they were never deprived of is no brave act of patriotism. Their ignorant disregard for the safety of the vulnerable does not make them freedom fighters.
“But this is not a conspiracy theory, it’s really happening. Our rights will be taken away and we are seeing the beginning of a dystopia,” you say. It’s okay you believe that. I’m just asking you to look again at your actual situation and, if you like, complain and others can commiserate if they want to, but don’t claim your situation is the same as the oppressed minorities in Nazi Germany, or those under a police state. Yes, it can get like that. But you still have no idea how bad it actually has already been for the rest of the world while you enjoy the results of the pillaging and oppression we all have endured for your entitled, myopic, and uncaring life.
