Let’s come back to the broken altars of our ancestors. In their rage and shame and greed and lust. Did the ancestors of middle America neglect the altars of their higher powers, their super powers, in exchange for alters of their worldly ladder climbing? Stepping on “the least of these” for their personal gain, material profit, and ego pride. Let’s sit beside their souls. Let us console them in compassion as they request redemption for the violations and violence, for their “get big or get out” ways and the plastic returns we have inherited. Let them genuinely feel the regret they have for the world we live in today. The world they created, perhaps unknowingly. Perhaps purposefully. The earth is burning. It is flooding. It is blowing back on those of us who carry the doings of the world built before us. No matter where we stand in relation to these ancestors, they have written the history of conquest and conquerers. They have been given, or rather they stole the show, by keeping children captive in facilities where stories of old white men and their wars were the main event. We come from these stories and their memory lives in Us. Living in all of us in order to evolve beyond this which has been. So we can live peaceful and free and unburdened by the treachery of having to survive.
Come back to the broken altars of the industrial military complex that sucks life from the winners and the losers. Let’s each take pieces of those alters and bring them back to our own. Scatter all the pieces onto each, a new alter. Let those parts be integrated with our story. Stories we can retell in our own ways. Altering history. Telling our own stories of forgiveness, redirection. Stories that reject the calculations of winning and losing in favor of mutual benefit.
ShockedT 