Sometimes we forget to play, especially those of us front-lining, checking the tyranny with rebellions and trojan horses teeming with secret healing ninja magic. I know because I get somber, oftentimes it seems, and in quiet but also noisy reflections, I've realized on the shining dance floor of ecstatic spaces, and cacao induced affections, my wild-child wants to lead this rebellion too.

It's good to be serious some times, even deadly so. There's something so fervently powerful about the glint of keenly focused eyes, channeling powers of mind to steward heavenly realms to earth. It takes a certain kind of intensity that many can interpret as coldness. But then, once them forces are aligned, and the spine is plugged into the axis mundi, the Heart should own the highest sense of the divine, HUMOUR, and wield it like a faery wand that's every sway enchants wastelands; transmutes darkened days into radiant ways. We need constant reminders, of that possible leap from stoic to jester--the holy fool is starved to death in a culture bereft of the skillfulness of deflating inflated egos that became tyrants instead of rightful servants. The world has hounded and hunted the sacred levity with the holy war, where jokes become acts of terrorism and the King orders the court jester to the gallows, leaving the world with a big bore...

We live in a time (I hopefully know) when the King/Queen outside and in us all, has a crack that's begun to grow, in the tyranny of armour wasting the Heart--the tyrant is heart-broken, and it's precisely because they long to play and put death to their inner-child, not knowing that that child is the golden, divine spark where life is known as love and the Heart cannot go on without it.

So we attack, the heavily guarded castle now, where Ego sits confused on a throne it was never meant to be. But we attack no longer with weapons of war, but with ferocious hugs and kisses, gregarious games, spontaneous songs, fear-fucking festivities, relentless revelries; irresistible beauties that gradually cajole warriors to drop their guns to share their keen awareness in the fires of gleeful dancing. We captivate instead of demonstrate and rather than resist alone, we invite them darkened ones to the party and the paradise found when we all come around and let that eternal child run a lil' wild and make a silly sound.

Let's hold each other accountable: when one of us gets too serious, like serious superfluity, unnecessary, instead of judging, and taking on, reacting to their cold, somber song, give them a lil' tickle, turn around, show your derriere and give 'em a lil' wiggle, and don't stop until amidst all their protestations they've freed a lil' giggle! And you'll bear witness then to the secret exorcism that all the demons long for but too many of us have shied away from because their fearful displays push us away and we acquiesce and instead of standing our affectionate ground, instead we sway. But today I'm telling you, I'm singing the way: tickle the tyrant, and let's embark on a religion of PLAY <3