holy ground

All of Earth is the holy ground.
The ground on which life has root.
A mixture of vitamins and minerals and molecules from a cloud of dust and heat.

Being ashamed is difficult.
For a long time I've dealt with my shame for living. My shame for humanity. The shame of my parents. And their parents. I'm sure it never ends actually. All of us deal with generations of trauma, misguided communication and emotion. It will take many more lifetimes to unravel... just to adjust the reactionary mind. It never stops unraveling until the soul is bare. Then, I guess, people can gloss over because it's too much to look at it. They can't process the purity of the moment. 

That's why I love art no matter the medium; it is the human grasping at realizing the moment.

My grandfather was from a Nazi family, and married a Polack. He was raised very Christian and conservative but still had the audacity to try and subvert the status quo. He was pretty well regarded in the community but very abusive to my grandmother, as only religious people can be: stifling, verbally violent, and condescending. He let her shoulder a lot of the responsibility of raising the children and providing for them. She was eventually able to divorce him, he died, and she became one of the first women in an upper level managerial position within a large company.

My father was raised in catholic boarding schools and tore out of them when he came to an age where he could; think he was 17. No telling the amount of abuse he received there. My mother was raised through Christianity in Texas. Her parents were very religious and disowned her twice. She also left as soon as she had some autonomy. They met in Los Angeles where they got married. Unfortunately neither had addressed the shame they were running from in a way that allowed them to reciprocate the insight, patience or honesty needed to grow intimate relationships. They were both still religiously indoctrinated in ways they weren't willing to explore. They were still doing what they were programmed. How could they know? When it's most difficult to stop, breathe and listen, people shut down and let trauma upwell, and emotions can take the reins. It's way easier now to find space to conversate and grow out of our deep seeded, emotionally guarded negligence.

I can only imagine the shame and trauma of the generations before me through the people I see now. Seeing the parents and kids, seeing the managers and bosses, politicians and celebrities. I can see the layers of societal trauma slowly loosening....very slowly. I also see perpetuated fear magnetized to the dead minds of defeated, deflated workers to keep certain systems in place. Hierarchical systems maintain power (or order) through pressure. Stress results from how pressure is applied.

What shame is there just being on the planet as a human? As a being capable of awareness and responsibility? Whatever shame you give it. Whatever guilt you give you, for whatever reason. With so many examples of our responsibility suggesting it be discarded or subverted; fear and destitution to compensate. I don't blame for depression. It makes absolute sense. 

Leave your head for a moment. Let humanity run its course. Or go out and convince yourself it is something better by building yourself into something you can be proud of.

Confidence, I think, comes from surviving change and...courage... is the will to undergo it. I don't really know. I can be careless with definitions for ideas and internal forces. I try to care. Maybe as much as I try to face any shame I might have for being. It's ingrained in the cells and I don't know all the keys to unlock those memories. I've tried to have patience with my brain and body. It tires easily, and aches. But I stretch and breathe, and breathe out. And rest. And play. I fear. I hope. I've lost. I've found. I try to keep here but here was never meant to keep.

I don't plan very well. 

It really doesn't matter.