Unfreeze! Unfreeze! Unfreeze! I order all the ghosts to go away!
The war on our sexuality is ancient, and it’s time for us to embrace the joy.
This whole past year and a half has been a horrible attack on sexual energy and love in the true sense of it—and the only way to win against it is to refuse to give it any power.
Thus, I refuse to be mad or hurt or scared.
I refuse to be anything but open to all the joy in the world, and grateful to all the good energy there is.
We are not ordinary. We are not dull. We are not one bit robotic.
We are resilient and powerful and joyous, and that’s our true nature, and has always been.
I pray to the skies and to the oceans, I pray from my heart and from the entire timeless cosmos that those connected to my soul unfreeze, remember who they are, and bring me their love, and their joy, and their spiritual greatness.
Spiritual greatness is where happiness shows up.
I don’t negotiate with ghosts.
I pray to the skies and to the oceans for the awakening of the heart.
I don’t know what I am doing. I definitely don’t know what I am doing. I feel face to face with the universe, dependent on mysterious things and the power of love. But I know I am not a robot, and neither are you.
I pray for harmony, I pray for understanding.
May love free us of any obstacles. And may we remember that we are not ordinary.
[Below is my old story about how sexuality was manipulated for the purposes of controlling people.]
Shortly before the spring of last year, I saw this film called “A Hidden Life,” a film about one man’s spiritual standoff with fascism. When I saw it, it really shook me. It felt like it had a special meaning, a meaning that spoke like thunder and lightening to my heart. Life works in mysterious ways…
(Thank you all who are donating, I have found such a beautiful community since I started this!)
I have reread your words in this piece several times. It keeps getting better. The trailer at the end sent a chill through my spine. I'm afraid to watch it again. I think I am going to need the power in your prose.
A supreme prayer.