Holding space for words potent and true. Words of sweetened wisdom, the healing stories which spark imagination, sing the words of our healed ancestors, and bring us on adventures into mythos and cultural lore.
But a sanctuary is more than a house for an altar, its table dressed in sacred objects. It is a threshold, a breathing membrane between worlds—a force of resistance, a mycelial uprising against the enclosures of empire.
Let us not give oxygen to the fray of last night’s broadsheet of lies and hypocrisies. Instead let’s do something entirely different.
Soft rebellion is not passive. It is insurgent, but in a way that cannot be easily named or neutralized. It moves in whispers, in laughter, in unnoticed refusals. It weaves a world beneath the one being forced upon us—a world that, one day, will break through the cracks and bloom.
Witnessing what has happened in my lifetime and the way of unfolding around me. I’m processing, integrating. What I know from my own historical contexts, what I have in felt experiences from the ancestors, from my Ori. Here is where I am.
My desire is for this page to be a place of profound beauty unfolding, truth telling, healing stories, and restorative ancestral lore. May we find ourselves at home in the wordsmything that it will carry.
