The chakras rise from the earth and descend from the heavens, an ever present shifting and moving of energy. Vortices of static change, yin becoming yang and vice versa, shedding àṣẹ in tears of laughter and sweat from the task of carrying the weight of this life. This existence.

They say let it go. Release it. But what are we letting go of? When one’s life has been a constant experience of pain so subtle you’re not sure it’s even real. Nothing seems to be real. Reality exudes it’s tantalizing vibration from everyone and everything outside of me. If only I could experience it…

If only I could touch, love it, maybe it would love me. Teach me. Show me the way. Stay with me. Never leave me. Comfort me. Remind me that I’m real, that I came from somewhere and I’m going somewhere.

If only the Infinite One would speak to me, tell me why. Tell me why all of this mess is necessary. Tell me that this pain is worth something more than the shades of the void that haunt my waking thoughts. Tell me I was made for a reason more than to be shuffled to and fro in the name of love.

If only the Ancestors would speak to me, remind me of deep roots that go back to the Dawn of Life. If only they would sing the songs of remembrance, the songs of welcoming.

If only…

All I hear are the echoes of the screams of my own mind in deafening solitude.