033122 - indigenous
I had a dream In the morning before waking up that said something about a system or process for deepening spiritual experience I don’t remember what it was called. But it brought to mind how Christianity had been underground in the begging and that something of that character had been good for it. There was some commentary on marginalization in the dream too.
I have been sympathetic to indigenous cultures as long as I’ve know about them. All humans are indigenous some where. I wonder what my spirit would show me if I went to England? I mean we tell ourselves that ancestral home lands don’t matter and still we the settlers have romanticized these places. They are secretly sacred to us. But I do have to point out that colonization happened in Europe too. That we are the product of a long legacy of stolen lands. It is hard to remember the before then or see what is from the original culture.
For our current society “indigenous” represents something that rationality has stripped from our accepted consciousness. What is “indigenous” tends to imbue life into everything in ways “scientific” thinking cannot. Artist seem to inhabit this more spiritual way of being. This is honored and held in awe and at the same time abused.
It’s weird what we do to sacred objects. I mean that one person puts up a thing as sacred and the next generation trashes it. I mean estate sales? Those were the things the previous generation could not let go of. It’s grandmas worn out paring knife that brought to life significant moments for her but once she is no longer there to cling to it the knife is trashed. No one else would want it. It had long ago become useless except as a talisman or something.
When I hear about avatars or other sacred persons I feel terrible for the humans who are them. How strange and trapped their lives become! How much pain they suffer because no human should be set apart like that. No human can bear the full responsibility for a communities spiritual growth. We are each responsible for our own path.
When I was younger I wanted to be known but the only model I had for that was popular culture. And the image of knowing that it presented spooked me. The vicious pop star wars of the 90s burned this immature vision of what it meant to be known. All my flaws would be exposed and picked over, inaccurate and salacious stories told about me, every mistake amplified. I am sensitive I don’t want to be ripped apart so I wouldn’t even try to get my work out.
It took many years to see how messed up and wounded everyone is. It’s an overwhelming truth.
