thoughts on our collective evolution

Humankind as a whole is in a huge mess right now.

We’re out of step with the place we live.

We need to make major changes in the way we do business. We’ve heard, even scientifically proven now, that global warming is real and human influenced, yet why isn’t our behavior changing in the face of these necessary shifts?

Think of human kind like a great organism. It’s impersonal; it moves around based on the mass of its thoughts. In this way it’s like a well run riverbed. The mass of human thoughts dictate the direction of the rut that is formed. It’s impersonal. This is what we call the mainstream and in the past, it has taken about 30-40 years to incorporate the leading edge. An organism this big takes time to change its course- imagine rerouting the mighty Colorado river, for example- it would take a lot of energy to shift the inertia.

Yet all of the signs point to _We must change if there is going to be the continuance of human life on this planet_. We are not living in step with our environment and we may be thrown off the back of momma earth like so many fleas on a shrugging gorilla.

A lot of this has to do with our current religious paradigms which perceive humankind as “something other than or above the earth”- when in reality we are highly evolved self reflective consciousnesses of the earth itself. We are the earth- thinking in our human way. No separation there- think of human beings as the earth arms thinking and feeling and observing, reflecting on what is. Our body a hologram of what is around us (patterns of streams in our blood).

Media, the Internet, books, television all play a part in deciding where that collective consciousness goes. Yet there’s a small voice inside of us which leads us toward evolution. It’s the voice of the intuition, the instinct, perhaps the “voice of god or goddess” to some. This voice and our emotional feedback loops (pain, happiness, fulfillment, alignment) all lead us forward.

Entheogens (literally within-god; plant medicines like psychedelic cacti, leaves, roots and fungi) have been an extraordinarily important part of my path now, as well as being and sleeping outside. Any contact with nature is good. Eating nature in the form of the entheogen and taking its consciousness on for a time is a very fast and efficient path toward evolution. These open doors and can perhaps expedite or illuminate our evolving paths. But be careful, you may be pushed to start exceedingly more and more thinking for yourself after these experiences. It may not be as easy to fit into the mainstream after these awakenings. This can feel dangerous and perhaps it is, to the status quo, external and propped up within our internalized paradigms.

While culture, the collective mind would have you be stuck in stasis, in the flow of survival and the current “way things are”- its incredibly important that you listen to your own voice stream now. That’s how we shift and evolve.

The outliers must lead. They must use the media sources and Internet especially so that many people can catch wind of the hints of evolution. In this way, perhaps the main stream can shift in 10-20 years instead of taking the 30-40 it took before. If it is evolution, people will feel a resonance. The right people are looking for these words for it is our biological and holistically encrypted imperative to evolve, to take part in the evolvement of our species.

evolution and our part in it: a dream & reflection

woke up last night as i slept out in open air, grateful for another night to be sleeping there, so raw and pure beneath the stars. what has started as a temporary travel has morphed into this life style that i love … not sure if i could sleep as comfortably inside of doors anymore .. at least for now..

when i awoke, wow it’s only 11:45PM, it’s not even tomorrow yet! i was invigorated with thought streams i’d like to share from the following dream line…

“we evolved around my footsteps for a while”

They are Shooting film, there are footprints in the sand…
As an actress/explorer finds out certain truths, she says as if impersonally, “we evolved around my footsteps for a while.” We witness.


Each of us is , at times, pushing the edge of our collective envelope and as we do so, in our own ways, the collective can witness us and so evolve.

There are many of us from arts and sciences, the humanities, agriculture, healing modalities, etc who are pushing the edge of this envelope. We each do our part for evolvement is not limited to any genre. Therefore we understand we work together something like a family unit, each with our individual roles that help move us along.

What we do, then, is ultimately for the collective, that our species can evolve.

That’s one facet of our mission here.

space of mystery

No one knows why the humming birds
Fly straight up and pause in front of me
As if in recognition and then move on

Or why the coyote and I crossed paths at exactly that time

Why the people moved away from Chaco canyon or these cliffs here too
At bandelier or why the people at the gila cliffs maybe only stayed there for 50 years

People move on, drought, words of the gods, we may say, ever the beings desirous for meaning

But what of the nazca lines- how did they do that? Or the incans moving all that stone? Some mysteries we are forced to live with, their immensity stunning our minds

And as for the hummingbird
It’s a wonder
And wonder can be a final destination

It’s a gift to the mind actually
To leave the space for certain things,
The mysteries, To simply let them be




25 years, 1000 years

Like a lightening rod,
An antenna for the divine energies
Ancient beauty, powerful channel
Being around you
I remember, I see
What it is I am meant to be

In cutting down the trees, humans have done much more than clear the land. We have cut down our healing centers, we have tempered our natural connection with the divine. Hugging her for 5 minutes of precious solitude, tears come and deep knowing release, joy, plenitude, graceful thanks. May we remember, Mother, these things which are full of health and goodness! And protect them!

~largest Sitka Spruce in the world

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cosmoses osmosis


i once met a woman

the universe swirled in her belly

planets & cosmoses

ran through her like osmosis

and the universe swirled in her belly

ran through her like grape jelly

cosmosis osmosis

spewing out her mouth like words

in formation

really turned out to be entire

galactic elations

i once met a woman whose belly contained all-that-is

she looked like an average woman

but turned out to be everything


union of archetypes: great whore meets the forsaken feminine

detail of a goddess moon bag from our etsy store:

detail of a goddess 3 moon bag from our etsy store:

i believe we are creatures of balance and naturally are attracted to that which we believe will further complement us. as rumi says in this poem:

God’s wisdom made us lovers of one another.
In fact all particles of the world
are in love and looking for lovers.


A thirsty man calls out, ‘Delcious water,
where are you?’ while the water moans,
‘Where is the water drinker?’

This morning I woke up with images of the whore archetype and a longing for connection with this part of myself. As it goes on the earth plane, sometimes things can get confusing due to us all being from one source, yet simultaneously in separate bodies. We have full potential to embody everything in the universe, yet the nature of our individual identities means that we only express parts at a time, instead of the whole. So oftentimes we go looking for complementary parts or balancing characters which exist in forms outside of ourselves instead of uniting ourselves whole from within. I’m not saying there is no point in relationship and we should be ultimately whole within ourselves and alone, but that awareness is key in developing relationships and it can be helpful (wholesome) to be aware of projecting characteristics that are possible for us to embody onto other people (whether praise or judgment).

So I awoke this morning with a longing for the whore, a desire to be united with her. In particular, a feeling of a girl I dated for a hot second who magnifies the symbolism of this energy in my consciousness actually played in my mind. And if you’re interested in reading more about symbolic/realistic/spiritual writings on sex from me, including more in-depth poetics of my experiences, you may be interested in purhcasing Earthy, a chapbook I self-published on 12.21.12. I still have a handful of copies available here.

I have been reading The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdock (she writes from a similar space as Jung & Campbell per the Hero’s Journey from a feminist perspective) and have been further enlightened/surprised at the manifestation of the prizing of the masculine over the feminine- even amid women. How women, like men, are encouraged to more fully embrace the masculine and have no balance of the feminine within themselves and how this is often rewarded in our culture, though it costs the woman a separation from herself. Feminine aspects such as nurturance, relationship building, cooperation, creativity often drop off the plane of crucial life-skills. Along with this often goes wild sexuality because this is an uncontrollable (therefore scary & unknowable) aspect of the feminine which has no place in a (approved, above-ground) masculine world. The book is enlightening and essential to understanding the development of our culture. How women are joining and rising to the top of the culturally sanctioned work-force but oftentimes do so by denying and forsaking their feminine nature.

This brings me back to the whore. If masculinity triumphs by doing away with the feminine and only has anything to do with it if it fits nicely into the sanctioned box, what about the whore? Yes, she is still attractive as ever, but within an anti-feminine, sexuality-safe-and-in-a-box perspective, she is relegated to the dark corners of the night. She is hidden & secret. The whore, naturally, is the aspect of femininity which is longed-for but hardly spoken of in the light of day. She is the at-night, dark-alley, secret-shhh, oh-god-i-want-it-so-bad-but-don’t-tell-anyone, luscious and plump aspect of female sexuality and sexuality in general that gives and gives and gives. She is pleasurable, unruly, boundless. And laughing. She is powerful.

It was this image I woke up to. To me, the whore is plump & fecund. She is everything the boxed-in female isn’t. She is loud & voluptuous, uproarious. She laughs in your face & sits at her make-up stand drinking a glass of chardonnay. She is cozy to me in her proportions and so generous. In her essence, the whore is generosity with knowledge of her own power. She is everything the scant, quiet, enslaved, ashamed aspect of femininity isn’t. She represents life and her cunt is open & inviting, beckoning.

As I read The Heroine’s Journey, I am shocked at the way pieces come together. It’s not that “men are bad” or inherently evil. And women certainly aren’t either, especially sexually. It’s that the archetypal dichotomy of feminine/masculine has long been tipped in favor of masculinity, that drive it home, push, aggressive, dominant, possessive, be strong, overpowering part. It’s that the nature of femininity has been naturally devalued in the face of a culture where outwardly one has to conform to the above-mentioned principles or else is trampled, forgotten, exploited or silenced. It’s not that men and women are only masculine or feminine, but that the feminine parts of ourselves have been devalued, pushed under and scared into submission, and, in a masculinity-dominated context, serve no primary function besides that of submissive counterpart. Archetypally, all of facets of our collective being exist, yet parts get hidden in the face of What Counts culturally. In the competitive game of survival, which our capitalistic economy is based on, the feminine aspect, which is an integral part of our evolution as mammals who live in community, nurture one another and cooperate to survive, is a subservient counterpart to the championed masculinity.

This is where the whore comes in. Oh she has not left us! But she does hold a place in the psyche that we wouldn’t bring over to show grandma or proudly champion in front of our bosses or children. The whore is the uniting aspect of the feminine that we need right now. She represents the extreme archetype to bring the boxed-in, silenced, emaciated, sexually-kept, acceptable feminine into harmony. For me, imagining the soft curves of my whore archetype~ the way she is so generous and open and affable, the way she expands in her freedom with a sense of humor and also is beautiful and regal and no, not perfect, but full. The way she gives and gives and gives helps me to come to more peace with my own femininity, with my own being and self. By accepting what she represents to me, I become more whole. No longer hidden, her brazenness to be herself, to be soft, to be BIG & in-her-power, to be SEXXXXY complements, fulfills and satisfies my image of woman and helps me grow.

i’m curious, what’s are your thoughts on your relationship with the whore archetype?



my body is a house
caverns deep

where every emotion
can careen & sweep
through my form

& some
i want and some i forbid
so some emotion may end up

in some corner or other
to see the light of day

my body is a house
caverns deep

where every emotion
can careen and sweep

some emotions i want
and others deny

but why

is comfort my god
is safety my maxim

am i afraid that some will
tax me

beyond my measure
yet Who Am I

that i should fear
and stay clear

of what my mind thinks may
bring a fear — or the sheer
terror of feeling what
feeling that
which is unknown

my body is a house
caverns deep

where every emotion
can careen and sweep

some emotions i want
and others deny

but why

in yer belly i heard a song

universe swirling in your belly

they all come they all come

all the ideas about ourselves to prop us up in different times
they all come they all come

then the universe swirls swirls in yer belly
a fire a fire sits kindle burn yeeep dee woooo

a fire a fire sits and you know its true
you are you and more than you
you are you and more than you

boundaries of “crazy” all fall down
when universe swirls in yer belly
it all becomes true when they all fall down
and the plain truth in front of yer nose
is no longer hiding

yip yip yip yip yoooooooo
are the universe
when it swims and swirls and flames and fuegos
in yer belly in yer belly
when all yer yous all come down

want it to show in a poem

My aim is to encapsulate words with the effect of bringing the consciousnesses of those who read the words into similar states. Like writing as a portal, as a finger pointing, as a signpost. I have this hunch that all spirits Are hungering after this union , as like a secret underground mission of sorts most of the time, so leaving little baits out along the trail of tears.


Have you ever noticed its blue hue and the way the winds move and touch the surface,

It’s never the same

The flow of life is written on the sky for all to hear and see

Yesterday I laid by the ocean for hours, sometimes opening the slit of my lips allowing the chords in my throat to quiver and to hear a sound shiver out I wanted the sound to match the way the waves moved I was a lone human,

Yet indescribably I wanted to be all-one, I wanted to be joining the waves, I wanted no difference between us two, I wanted no difference between me and the sea

Is this oblivion,

It is union

What is it to be human, what are my true responsibilities

Each part seemingly taking a different slice of me

Can I be whole can I be wholly all-one

My tendency, as this part in the whole, is to watch, I want to witness as the world moves by in its ecstasy, in the pain and beauty

This morning I rolled around aching with the tears that wouldn’t come. I breathed for a bit and tried to orient my perspective with a vibe that’s true true true

Now I sip tea from the orient, characterized by asian symbols I couldn’t read if my life depended on it

The ocean still moving the way it never stops the girl who came to me in a dream, was it a dream, consciousness, which part of you is real real real she said to me, both in her actions and her voice, my dear, ecstatic, you know those moments when it’s like you’re having sex but you’re really doing something like look at the wind move in the trees, sex is the word we use for the union between humans, or  organisms,

But what about the sex I have when I feel a sunset, the way I can feel smelling a flower, when all time stops, it all ceases to matter ‘sides us two. To live in states such as these, wouldn’t it be fine,


Yet the girl was jumping in and out of line, she was unruly, unprincipled, unshocked, unguaranteed and she looked at me, the way she looked at me, we were devouring each other. There was nothing left. There was the brutal honesty in it that I can only write about, but I want to show you in a poem. I want to write the meaning into the words so you feel it glowing.


So you can feel your own majestic self move as the fibers in your brain latch onto the state, sneaking into the consciousness unawares. The power of speech is a transportation portal. I’ve visited plenty in my day. What is the power of writing lest it change us. Why else do we read. For more sleep? Sleep is fine,


Yet why not read to be rocked. I eat your words because in them, in the way I am moved by your eyes, I remember what cannot be said and simultaneously forget everything that can be forgotten. For a time, for times. What is it to be human. Where am I anyway and I how did I get here?


I want to prod the basics, keep in the body, write what I see



Receptive vessels

The base state of people

And where they meet

Where do we meet

As stan asks, where do I appear


And the lines are telling on my face, but I can change them at moment’s notice the way each organism goes its own way the way a tree grows up in the shade or in strong winds it is bent and curvature’s just right to fit the lens, yet moving from that space, with feet and with legs and hips that asway, I can move in any old way . I can choose and form and dance and glide, the lines are telling on my face, but I can then slide


The way a poem reaches out and meets part of you you forgot about or weren’t remembering just at that time The way this is why we seek out art, to show us something sublime, or like art can be a portal

a portal to where we want to go, where we want to live. Base state base state, living on the ground, humans, yet within this and amid it there are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the sun,

a thousand ways to run our course to run

A thousand ways to perfect and hone what’s at home here, we’re the ones who decided Truly truly, I aint playing that game of the mass culture truly truly let’s let some ingenuity into the fore. There’s no time for sitting around keeping things the same, with all of this creativity flowing through my brain It’s time to fail and time to try again. Time to learn and time to be a kid. What’s in all of the livin’ if it’s not a time and time and time again. Time and time and time again. Time and time and time again.

I want my poems to be mind-states, mind states to wrap your head into, showing us, a hand reaching out prodding what we could be, what we have been. Portals for remembrance, portals to what we haven’t seen. The brain will take symbols and interpret them without you knowing what happened, I want my words to work themselves into your system without your brain’s permission. Though there’s something deep inside that’s asking to be listening. Asking to be listening, ask and you shall listen, avenge and you shall hear. What is it most, dear, most you want to hear. Portals to hop into, to remind you what you could do. Humans as inventors, engineers of days we haven’t seen yet. Same old same old sometimes has its benefit, yet there’s a time and a place we haven’t been to yet, and it’s there I’m headin, there I’ve been, there I come from and there I yearn for. Days I haven’t seen yet, spaces I haven’t gleaned yet, things I only imagine, imagine in my genes, it’s an imagene that exists within my head and things are never the same we just sometimes wear the old glasses in the same way.

You know how your cells change every 5 years, thoroughly completely, you’re a new being than you were back then. And the brain has the capacity to carve out new rootless into dark nooks and crannies that we haven’t been to yet. That we haven’t been to yet. Talking about spaces we haven’t seen yet.

Prod the unknown, court the undecided, uncertain, dark womb of creation that you’re drawn to. Court the cunt, penetrate and sow a million seeds, maybe one will glisten in the light of day and grow to have a day of its own. Maybe one will glisten in the light of day, you never know. Sow sow sow sow sow. We never know what will take hold, so plant while the day is young. We cannot know what we haven’t seen, but we can dream, we can dream.