Allegory of the Cave

I’ve been thinking a lot of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave recently.
Imagine prisoners tide up side by side in darkness placed in front of a blank stone wall. The prisoners can turn their heads nor move so that they can’t see one another. Behind them there is a fire and the captors have people walking in front of the fire with puppets so that it casts a shadow upon the wall the prisoners stare at. Any sounds and talk, these prisoners believe come from the shadows in the wall. This is the reality they live in and they have no knowledge of people or the captors behind them.
One day they are set free and have to crawl through a narrow tunnel to an opening into the outer world. When first reaching the outside they see the light of the sun and it’s blaring and painful because they’ve only known darkness their whole life. It hurts their eyes and burn their skin, so they retreat back into the comfort of their darkness into the only reality they’ve known their whole life, not understanding it’s been an illusion.
However a few realize there is something more outside and decide to go back into the light. Over time their eyes adjust and the sun feels good. They realize in that moment that the shadows they thought were real were only replications of what is real under the sun while some stay in the darkness, those who go outside can finally live free.
What I believe is the reality can hurt when you live in the comfort of illusion for so long, but eventually the light of reality is the only way to live a life beautiful and free.

allegoryofthecave #plato #reality #illusions #freedom #justiceforahmaudarbery

Pause

A sweet moment in the between times of falling in love and falling apart where action is subdued and one could hear the buzzing fly cutting the dead air humming silence.

The in Between of the inhalation and the exhalation,

That’s the moment you’ll find the treasure you seek that feels like the only thing that ever existed,

And as you exhale it will be gone but the faint memory of the possibilities will remain until you are either driven into madness,

Or surrender to the next breath.

Broken Arrow

I shot down each of my demons

And One by one laid clear my path,

I pulled one with the fletching torn,

As i stood face to face with a monstrous beast.

Without my arms I trembled

Eyes closed and cold sweat crawling zig zags down my cheek.

I died a hundred deaths before I opened my eyes

and saw before me

The beast quivering

eyes closed and beads of sweat.

I touched its shoulder

And the Eyes fluttered Open

My own eyes staring back

Holding a Broken arrow.

I died one hundred deaths

Before I opened my eyes.

Porches

Pure Bliss

Slow mornings

Vanilla steamer

Cappuccino

Ficus Benjamina

Gentle sunlight

“How’s you cup.”

“Mmmmmmm”

Morning After Pill

     After an eventful weekend of sound healings, Reiki, storytelling, and shedding, I woke up and locked myself in the bathroom, sitting on the “potty” to cry in solitude. Whether it was the Capricorn Moon pulling emotional memories from the stories ingrained into the fine grooves of our skin, or it was merely pure coincidence, the three days of this full moon came with others, as well as myself, sharing stories of our ancestors and our own past. Some told their stories loud, and some just shared it with their presence, but the intensity of everyone’s want for healing was thick and heavy. 

     During ceremony as my sister Arvindjeet chanted, sang, and sent out vibrations in the beautiful way she does, I walked from person to person performing reiki, hovering my hands over head, heart, arms, belly…. and in some instances feeling my heart heavy with that deep kind of hurt that makes it burn in ones threat, some with that kind of love that makes your skin tingle, some sighs, shivers, and some with a sort of softening release. The aftermath is often heavy for me and it takes a couple days for me to process everything I felt, on top of my own healing. So I found myself seeking Solace away from my kids in the bathroom with the door locked, and basically pissing from my eyes, but I began to think back to something a friend said this weekend. “People’s stories are so rich with beauty, whether it’s painful or joyful,” resonating and I couldn’t help but laugh while fully clothed on the toilet thinking about how beautiful it all is, so much so that we are capable of feeling the immensity of the pain and love in the way we do, that it brings us to places such as ones of this weekend, sprawled on the floor amongst friends, family and strangers, singing, crying tears, laughing, sharing intentions, and letting someone wave hards all over their body,

Trusting, vulnerable, open. 

     I heard the romp of 4 little feet running towards my sacred sanctuary yelling, “mom! I need to swallow a pill! I figured it out! I think I can do it! Can you give me a pill to swallow?”

My eldest must have had an epiphany of sorts and I handed him a harmless turmeric gel cap. He ran to the kitchen and I hear, “ugh!” And a splatter of liquid hitting the floor and the little one squealing with laughter. “Never mind! That was gross!” He tried to chew it. And the little one said, “happy birthday!” 

“Who’s birthday is it?”

The elder responding, “there must be a billion people in this world so it’s someone’s birthday right? Or it’s a lot of people’s birthdays today!” And he smiled at this revelation, his teeth bright yellow from the turmeric. 

String Theory 

My name echoed from every dimension of each universe,

Ripples rewinding into one defined point as Goddess conceived me into existence whispering my name, 

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah…..”
I am born again and again and again from that dark open space where thoughts form words to be spoken into vibration then into being as she plucks a string again and again whispering my name as a song made of pure sound and the reverberations sliding through the tight particles of each invisible filter of worlds back into that single point of light at the center of my universe. 

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah…”

I did not see, but hear myself born into being,

Perpetually formed. 

The sage priestess sweeping gold dust and broken glass from the remnants of a shattered hour glass onto a dustpan while guiding me to float in between the panes of universes to experience my creation. 
And each time I hear my name called,

“Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah….”

I remember. 

  

 

Telekinesis 

“Mom, if you meditate a lot, can you move things?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Like move things with your mind.” He puts his hands by his temples and looks at me inquisitively. “Because my dad says if you start moving things with your mind, he wants to see it.” 

I laugh, “why? Did you tell your dad that meditating will teach you to move things with your mind?” I’m having an aha moment because I wondered why Elijah is more open to meditating and chanting than asana. 

“Yeah! And he says he wants to see it if you do. But can you? If you meditate a lot?”

“Well that is one belief and I think anything is possible.” And right at the moment, a huge container truck was slowly turning into a shopping plaza. Elijah was so occupied he didn’t see it and I raise both hands and say, “watch!” And he looks up at the road to see this huge container turning to block the road with the driver cab on the other side of the truck so it looked as if it was floating. His mouth drops and then laughs as the driver becomes visible. 

“Ha. You didn’t do that. It’s a truck!” And he’s still laughing for being fooled for a moment. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really trying to move the truck. I was trying to move you to laugh. We can move the heart, and we can move the energy. Are you feeling happier already?”

He laughs a different kind of laugh. “Yes.” He says smiling and content with that. 

The Rebound, a Light at the End 

The day after the election was hard and I felt heartbroken. 

I listened to NPR all day hoping to find some sort of justification. 

As I processed I moved through feelings of anger, grief, sadness, but at moments acceptance. 

This morning I woke up and spent sometime meditating after dropping Elijah off at school.  

Then I realized something and couldn’t help but laugh. 

I didn’t believe that Clinton being elected was a solution to anything except that it just meant a vulgar racist narcissist like Trump wouldn’t be possible. 

Even more clear was the realization that she was like “settling” with a relationship because I was comfortable. 

So then in my silence, I understood the emotions I felt yesterday and realized Trump is Americas rebound. 
In my own past, I’ve rebounded low (though not quite so low as Trump) after ending what I thought was beautiful in order to be ready for the transformation that comes later. 

The rebound tends to dangle pretty, yet empty promises, and it is often mediocre compared to what you had just experienced, however that is the appeal. 

Sometimes the rebound is gross and vulgar because you are afraid to put faith in someone you want to love just to be disappointed again and again. 

In this realization, I laughed and the heaviness lifted. 

So Trump is the rebound which leaves me to believe that this can move us in a direction for even greater progress and make us ready for someone as progressive as Sanders. 

It is just a part of of the shift. 

When Worlds Collide

  

I am mother 

I am musician

I am artist

I am writer 

I am yogini

I am teacher 

I am student

I am mother 

I am daughter 

I am sister

I am woman

I am goddess

I am priestess 

I am servant

I am talented

I am scared

I am mediocre 

I am love  

I am sad 

I am frustrated

I am elated 

I am patient

I am everything 

And not just one thing 

Yet I am one. 

And yes I really did try to play with my toes.