SILENT INVITATION

Mystics like us are made for this age, reaching ever so slightly beyond the edges of even the most ancient myths into the unseen that seems to have been gleaned already, for everything that can be redeemed, only to find in the hollow of the hill, a hidden refuge of forgotten resource that serves us, this is the essence of our center of trust in the beauty of Bliss, that in the depths of darkness exists exceptional elements of exquisite excellence, meant for events, exactly such as this, remembering there is an incredible endlessness to consciousness that is unique within all of us that continues to persist, regardless, even in the deep eddies of uncertainty there are a myriad of marvels in the mystery of the unseen, working to unearth the old memories and make something new out of reality for you. This receding tide of tradition, etching away at the foundation of the familiar is the rapid of renewal transforming tribe into a different tool. One that is bent toward the whole of time itself as a ceaseless process of restoration. One that never stops turning or abruptly ends without reason. All for but a mere season to see into meanings end in a new beginning, this is all an in between, neither the total truth of reality nor a drifting dream, this is the process of understanding what is happening to the nature of our becoming a collective legacy simultaneously concluding what is no longer serving. In deep sobriety, we grieve and leave it all behind to find another way, today hope is in the hill where we find the will to remember our origins, the hollow in our hearts that used to hold Hope is opening and emptying the memories of what that used to mean, awakening, a fresh imperative to stare deeply into reality asking “is this really what I’m keeping?”