Normal Consciousness

A friend in Boulder, before I moved back here, told me that indeed it might be "good" for me "to be around people of normal consciousness for a while". I agreed, grateful to hear support of this decision to move back here, this decision onto which I grasped so tightly in an unrelenting clutch and refused to let go, in words that made sense to me. The prevalence of beyond-my-wildest-imagination synchronicities, haunting and persistent dreams containing various messages transferred to me by what I can only describe as a faceless, dark force, experiences of glimpses of seemingly random images in my mind's eye only to come face to face with that image in waking life anywhere from hours to days later, and other sorts of visions of the sort that I'm not ready to write about here, along with the sort of heady and out-there, ethereal explanations from well-meaning friends had gotten to be way too much for me. My friend who spoke of my reintegration into the world "normal consciousness" happens to display a well-integrated balance of spirituality and earthiness that I appreciate -- but this felt rare in Boulder. I can think of maybe five or six other friends who I would describe as having solid feet in both of those worlds. My community (and the Boulder/Denver "conscious community" in general), far and away, is extremely astral-plane-bound -- and with this comes a lot of spiritual bypassing. The topic of spiritual bypassing is another topic all on its own, and one I don't feel like going into right now. But basically, all the existentialism became way too much for me.

WELL. The truth is this: things don't stop because your geographic location shifts. This shows up in myriad ways, of course. What I've learned, fully, is that once you've pulled back the veil -- and I mean, you've really pulled it back -- there's no turning away from what lies there in front of you. There's no closing your eyes to what you've seen, and there's no lessening, really, of the guilt you experience when you're awake in a world that is in such dire need of conscious action from awakened humans (in whatever form that takes) but you're choosing to not be a part of the action because of fear. Because that's just what the system wants -- fearful, complacent citizens. If we're easier to control, those in power get to continue with their harmful cycles that ultimately perpetuate greed and unearned power, add to their already high piles of dirty money, and their power grows, along with the thirst for it. I know, I know. The us/them talk sometimes contributes to the problem. But let's be honest, if you really know, you really know who is "us" and who is "them". Enough with the talk of oneness that doesn't get us, collectively, anywhere but might make you seem more enlightened in the eyes of the supposedly less enlightened (thus in some way excusing your blatant cultural misappropriation of your attire at music festivals -- attire, which, by the way, is almost definitely Made in China, India, Taiwan, or some other third world country that employs a child-labor-exploiting, lax-labor-law and horrendous-working-condition-having factory, thus perpetuating those countries' dependencies on ours for jobs -- and our own citizens' misled and highly dangerous beliefs that "we are giving people in those countries jobs" so buying these clothes must be okay, while unknowingly contributing to so many of our nation's perpetuating cycles of misuse of power. For the record, if you're buying clothes that aren't made in the country in which you live, you're part of the "them".) Everything is connected, sure. But the whole "oneness" thing began from this knowing, and it begets a certain type of complacency. Things aren't changing quickly enough, but it's not from turning away from the systems that got us here in the first place that change happens. It's by engaging consciously with these systems. For years I stepped back from the political scene because it all just seemed like too much, and I wasn't seeing a candidate who I felt actually could and would create change, or even speak to the issues that really matter (as in, a tangible plan to uproot the forces that perpetuate the unending environmental concerns plaguing our world or the myriad systemic issues contributing to social injustice and inequality), and besides, the two-party system is a complete joke anyway and no one really wins because everyone is saying the same thing in different words, but all while maintaining a snail's pace rate of change but calling it progress because it's what we're used to. We have so far to go.

You may understand why comments like, "If astrology were accurate and actually held water, why doesn't 99% of the world look to it for answers?" and "I'm the most intelligent and informed person you know; I watch the news every night," and (upon my questioning of the political leanings of the New York Times [in so much as that there are political leanings at all, thus contributing to a broken and antiquated system]), "Do you know what you're even talking about?! This is the New York Times! [Insert incredulous pause, as in, how could I not sign my soul away to the decisions made around content by the Editors-in-Chief at the New York Times?]" ... and then there's having my altar referred to as "sort of creepy" (which I actually translated as the fact that I have an altar at all being "creepy"), and also altered (pun unintended) while I'm not around (which just feels disrespectful, but those who don't understand obviously will not understand that), as well as a plethora of other micro-aggressions and insinuations, are absolutely and fully infuriating. Not to mention, eliciting a feeling of total and complete isolation. Being awake is fucking isolating. Not everywhere, but when you don't have others who see and understand these basic nuances of awakened interaction, and the larger picture of all that's actually wrong with so much human-driven choice at the detriment of all societies and the planet at large, it's isolating. As. Fuck. While I have met some within Ann Arbor's conscious community, I don't feel like I have the energy to really share myself, my story, right now. If you're a friend who knows me and is reading this, you might know what I'm referring to. So instead, for the most part, I stay in my comfort zone, which is my parents' house. Sometimes for days at a time. The definition of "comfort" is closing in -- smaller and more tightly on itself, and my conscience -- all the time. (I say my conscience because I feel an incredible weight, that guilt to which I referred earlier, heavy on my shoulders: I'm awake, and I'm doing nothing about what I see, aside from sitting here typing blog posts like these and picking up trash on the ground wherever I go.) Perhaps this is the greatest burden of all, and contributes even more to the feelings of isolation.

Contributing also is that Ann Arbor is still so far behind in so many ways in terms of higher consciousness. Note: Being a *politically liberal* city does not a conscious city make. At least not in the way I'm using the term conscious, which is in that those who relate to this word have awoken to the truth (and illusion) of separation; have recognized the need for the integration of the concepts of science/sustainability, spirituality, and social justice (and recognize that this three-legged stool upon which we all must sit will topple over without all the delicate and even balance of all three of its legs; and that man-made systems on earth have become co-dependent on one another, many of them relying on "first world" countries such as the U.S., meanwhile, the U.S. allowing this perpetuation of said relationships so as to maintain "power" while exploiting other countries' resources), rather than all parts of the world organically and co-creatively building a healthy interdependence with one another. This would look like each country producing goods unique to that land's production capabilities and its citizen's crafting (which is often based on culture/ancestral teachings) and farming abilities, and trades for (or consciously purchases) what each needs and is unable to produce; and recognizes that the poisoning of the earth and all its beings is parallel with the poisoning of the people of this earth. What we destroy around us, we are destroying within us; what is awakened around us is awakened within us: that's the interconnectivity.

While I do, definitely, feel lucky to have grown up in a town with a rich history and culture, a vibrant art and music scene, options for local and organic food when you eat out, a twice-weekly farmers' market, and a recycling plant (a rarity in the Midwest) -- I will mention, though, that I do notice a lack of the other two tiers of an effective waste-reduction system here, which are reducing and reusing, though this may be symptomatic of all areas of privilege, or perhaps the broader culture at hand, which is one of consumption. I also feel lucky that, while here, one is always in such close proximity to water :) (it's said that you're never more than something like two miles from a body of water while you're in Michigan). AND, it feels like there's still a lot missing here.

Perhaps it's because I've grown to expect a certain sort of responsibility from myself and from those around me after living in a place like Boulder (and Nederland for that first year out there), where raising your kids without a TV in the house is the norm; where you see people wearing yoga gear actually headed to yoga; where Western Disposal charges local residents for trash collection but recycling and compost collection is free (so as to encourage thoughtfulness around the latter two and reduction around the former); where getting up into the mountains is a daily practice; whether it be for contemplative practice or exercise or some combination of the two; where communities come together in the face of counties-wide destruction at the end of Mother Nature to, quite literally, rescue and bail each other out, back onto dry land. Where there are city-wide sit-ins and marches to show solidarity with the sort of atrocities being committed by those in power across the nation; where conversations are going on around things that bring us deep discomfort are not shied away from so that we might be of higher service to our sisters and brothers who have less -- less being anything that stems from less privilege. I saw restaurants that didn't have organic, local food options go out of business. I would say something to someone working behind the counter of a dine-out restaurant if it didn't have a recycling bin and I wouldn't receive a look like I was being ridiculous and high-maintenance, or like I was speaking some distant and foreign language.

I don't know how to wrap this up right now. Love. I know it's here, somewhere.