This is an invitation. Come to my table and sit. Drink tea with me while our children play, infusing our lives with their imagination and remind of us their constant needs. We sit together and take care of each other. We will talk of the day to day and we will talk of the scary world, the beautiful world. We will laugh a lot and be irreverent and we will cry and talk of holy things. You will bring food or nothing. I will feed you, no matter what. The overwhelming tasks in this time will not disappear, but there will be ground beneath your feet and arms around you. This is our activism. This is the healing we offer for each other.
The door is always unlocked. You are always welcome. You don’t have to be happy or put together or it being too late or too early or worry about being an imposition. I want you here in your splendid messiness because chances are, I will be basking in a beautiful mess. Don’t bother yourself with self consciousness and stay as long as you want. Spend the night- we have lots of beds and it’s nice to wake up to people. We are at the edge of movement to soften the space between us. My home is not just mine, it’s yours. My resources are yours, and my love is yours.
I am overwhelmed with the suffering of the world. I don’t know how to process the insanity of violence and the fear we embody as we move through our day. To witness the dark and to feel powerless as our earth stumbles along and our children have no certain future is enough to paralyze me. I pray for the beauty to be apparent in all moments so I can have faith. The strength in the dark can easily overshadow the light. It’s not a battle. I’m done with battle. The world is done with fighting. We don’t need anymore soldiers, we need warriors. Humans that remember our weapons of effectiveness are the gifts we have been carrying for lifetimes. Some of us offer art, song, story. Others bring innovation and technology. There are light workers that remind us of magic and miracles. There are those who are Kings and Queens bringing leadership with temperance. Spiritual warriors; priests, rabbis, shaman, lamas, teachers. We survive with the gifts of farmers and those who bring food and medicine. People are born to stand for justice and some are born to stand on the front lines because they know their spirit transcends harm to their bodies or even death. When we get quiet, our gifts are told to us, like a whisper.
The gifts we bring are most profound as we give them to our immediate community. We start in our homes, our neighbors, our communities. We start at our kitchen tables as we share meals and take care of each other in the simplest ways. This movement through the darkness is subtle. This is a time of interdependence with each other. We releases our dependency on the corporate owned world of false needs we create to support our consumer culture of instant gratification and comfort. We aspire to sustain our local communities in our choices of what we eat and use. The work is immense as the road is difficult. It is uncomfortable because we can’t see what’s ahead. We move carefully, remembering the power in patience. We are not powerless and never have been. We are victims of illusion and a long sleep.
I invite you to my table to sit. I support you in taking care of your own table and will gladly come to it. We will help each other raise our children and keep our homes safe and warm. We will take care of these little pieces of land and love the animals that have shared it with us. We will take care of our men. They need tenderness so their hearts remember to honor the feminine. They are our providers and our protectors. We will create our existence in the Mama way of beauty and nurture. I am sincere in my invitation. If you don’t know where I live, please contact me. See you soon. I love you.