I measure my energetic capacity by the love burning in my heart, as I set out on a pilgrimage along the adventures of your body, finding cathedrals in the centre of every nimble cell of your skin. Hallelujah marinates every wound I discover, floating like a cloud just above because you know and I know that suffering is a preacher, and if we revolt against the hiccup in our conditioning to run from discomfort and learn to turn, every goddamned time, we’ll become the gods that bless the mess, the alchemists who make hateful enemies tryst, over and over again, in an orgy of revelatious glory (thank u, Bryce). Every Jedi needs a Darth Vader…

What stays restrained is impossible. You can repress and oppress, resist and persist all you want in them plugging games but nothing can resist moving sooner or later. The universe is conspiring to tickle your most desperate holding patterns with rowdy circumstances, angel-laced synchronicities, altering dances of destiny that will infallibly find the way through all brash armouring of life from making love to itself. It is the nature of everything, after all. And when we finally feel that tickle nudging our fears to laugh from their frozen hells, we’ll be a glory of giggles and realize FUCK there was nothing to scared of—old self dies and becomes the milk for new self. We’re rivers of rebirth!

One day when I meet Jesus, I’ll agree when he greets me with a whimsical smile, saying
"Yes, it is nice to be a Christ. "

We’ll embrace and he’ll take out a rackety guitar from under his cloak and pluck a star from the sky to light a joint of the finest cheeba, and start strumming a reggae tune he just wrote. His enthusiasm is so contagious that before long he has me singing the chorus along with him:
Love leaves no one behind
Even the monster boys and shadow kings
Will one day find
The end of their golden greed
In what truly shines
This love ain’t leaving no one behind.

The devil is tired. It's been almost 2500 years, and Buddha hasn't moved an inch from under the banyan tree. He's not paid heed to a single one of his many tricks, ruses or temptations. Suddenly, Buddha opens his eyes, gets up and begins walking toward the forest. The Devil looks after him aghast.

"But wha...what happened?" the Devil yells after him.

Buddha stops and turns, bowing in honour of his adversary and with eyes filled with sky, responds: "I've been called, amigo. A great fire is being lit, and all the tribes of the Earth have given light to it. It's time to initiate them all. All. No more mountaintop meditation seclusion for me—I’m done with the self, it’s time to set the world free!”

And as the Buddha wakes on, the crest of the expanding universe follows his every step...

I see you there, all flaxen with questions, all ruddy with wonder. Your very blood is pressed against its vessels, falling in love with the Earth and the mission to fulfill it sees beyond. Remember that mission? Spinning in the fields of crepuscular magnetism that the birds hear as symphonies? Troubadours of truth, singing in every nucleus the indomitable melody of love's unfaltering opening? In the secret wishing well in the middle of Jesus’s bloody-holed palm? Birth is not a remembranc. It’s an aspiration!
Make way for those walking the razor's edge. You'll find us tipping over the towers with our time-bending peace, our eyes luminous like lighthouses, calling all these breathing ships home. And not a suitcase full of the most arrogant of cash can stop them from being drawn to us. The call of the hero takes us all out of shock and into epidemics of virtue.

I will be your Stomach-36[1]. I will be the point when it all seems so pointless. I will recognize you in the deepest of your quarries. I will not allow you to forget. And I learned all of this from you...

Walking Thunder, Dine medicine woman, a hand filled with bitter medicine powder to clean the heart, booms to us students:
"What are you crying about so I can cry with you..."

Do you feel that? A sparkling within, gleaming forth from the centre, where Earth and Heaven are laying down in the wedding bed of your Heart? Let that be where everything you are comes from.

In the midst of another interstellar qi gong session, my eyes moaning out of the window into the cold wintry night eyes of a distant tree, I begin to feel waves coming up from the core of the Earth. The bottom of my feet become bubbling springs. I sense a deep groan as I realize just how tight the channels running up the laterals of my legs are. I relax, release and open the muscles and tendons, the will of my qi the guide. I feel the bubbling gaining intensity, shooting up to feed the wick of my destiny. And I pull it all the way up and through my lotus field, taking universal shape. I am overwhelmed, as trembles spray through my body; the reaction of stagnant energy unknotting and pushing to join the flow again. And there is a feeling of the deepest pain, those that only the innocence of a child would understand, and we hold and hold. And underneath it gasps the great light of the All, engulfing...home is the universe!

The dregs of day, as night comes with refreshment. My father's pain has been steadily interrupted by solace after the treatments I have given him. Inside, I am celebrating with rowdy cheer. "It works! My Goddess! This medicine is helping him!" And suddenly I'm surrounded by legion of people in the room, some familiar but most completely unknown. And they're cheering and clapping too. I realize they are the ones I will help to heal that I haven’t met yet…My eyes are stunned open and for a second I cower with doubt of my abilities. It’s then that a party whistles unwinds and bangs into my ear. I turn and see myself, reaching out a gang of gregarious arms to me, open like sails of a soul, and I hug a supernova...

[1] ST-36 stands for Stomach 36 one of the most important acupuncture points on the body. It greatly energizes the body.