When I was a senior in high school, my poetry class had sharing day every Friday. We were all writing poetry from our own experience, and I thought, Wow, what if all of life was like this? Heaven on Earth.
Now we have that, to some extent. That’s why I’m somewhat addicted to Facebook and personal blogs. I want what I always wanted: to know you, and now I can have it with the touch of a finger, anytime, anywhere, many ones, any topic.
For real? Is this real? My 16 year old’s dream come true?
Is life an open mic now? No wonder I can’t scrape myself from my iPhone at night, reading all your tidbits as my bedtime stories.
Maybe it’s time to accept it: we’re in a phase of story excitement; we’re hearing stories and perspectives we never had access to before. We’re absorbing new perspectives, famished for them; we gobble them up like candy, like pasta, like soup, we are starving; we need these written accounts, they are changing us and escorting us into the new world.
We don’t know what this world will be, but all of the information, stories, ideas, personal accounts of life on the margins we are devouring like hungry beasts are preparing us for it. They are showing us what’s under the rocks, who people are in their homes, under their clothes and blankets.
It’s a messy time; the old stories still reign, they still hold weight over us at times, but those of us who are choosing liberation are gradually but without a doubt ushering in a brand new look at humanity, at animals, at plants, at every aspect of consciousness.
None of it can continue to go invisible or mute. Everything has a voice now; it’s your turn. It’s our turn, and as we accept our turn, the world is turned; we will not recognize it when we are through speaking our minds for it to hear.
