There is a revolution taking place—one that does not call for weapons. Gather ‘round, gather ‘round friends. Reach for the person’s hand on your left, and the person’s hand on your right. Link up in a circle of communion.
In our center rests a glowing ember—a hot smoldering thing that has inherent within it the potential to transform the world. With the deepest breath you can muster, steadily blow on that ember. Listen to the crackle as now a small flame advances, consuming branches of hate, fear, and judgement of self and other. With your entire being, keep blowing. Propel the flame of compassion, love, understanding, kindness, and forgiveness. Blow just a little harder still.
Witness the flame consume negativity, hate, fear, judgement & doubt of self and other, as it hisses and crackles, turning into a wildfire. Feel relief wash over you as the stress of carrying all of THAT for millennia washes away from your shoulders, your mind, your entire body. The weight of those mind-created concepts turned beliefs turned reality is stifling enough to have pinned humanity under it for aeons.
Now your own deep reverberant cries begin. From unfathomable depths—deeper than your chest or belly—emerges a wail that is echoed from the walls of the farthest reaches of eternity. With vulnerability and tenderness, feel those heaving cries that spring out of the contraction that embedded itself in you the moment that you forgot you were anything other than the SACRED DIVINE. You cry harder still with the relief that comes as you forgive yourself, and everyone else, for ever having believed the false notion of separateness, the false notion that the body is anything other than a HOLY TEMPLE within which all of your prayers are received. All of them, without exception.
This is the only fall from grace that ever occurred—the great forgetting of what IS. The great forgetting that heaven is here and now, that we are manifestations of the divine, inherent within us the same power that birthed the universe, that birthed the vast expanse of eternity within which we are privileged to do our life dance. We are that. It never has been, and never will be, any other way. The return pilgrimage begins here and now. Existence itself is cheering for us.
As your warm salty tears fall to the earth with the relief of releasing that false notion of separateness, with self-forgiveness for ever having looked into the eyes of another and seen anything other than your own divinity peering back at you, you might fall to the earth on your knees. You might hear her whispering. You might just place your palms on her exquisite aliveness (one that is daily forgotten), your forehead to her Earth forehead, and listen as she pleads for a softer, gentler touch. “Your survival depends on it,” she says softly, “Not my survival but your survival.”
All the while, never stop blowing on that fire of kindness, compassion, eternal love, understanding, and forgiveness. For now she’s raging, threatening to consume us all. With my hand linked to yours in communion, I march into that raging fire and let any vestige of separateness consume itself. And should I ever forget again—for a moment or a year— please, please remind me. While it is a self-remembering, we cannot do this alone because we never were separate. May we develop the strength not to forget in the face of those who have not yet remembered. We are responsible for all of us. Yes to the Great Remembering. Yes to this revolution.