Spirit Rising Museletter #4
The fish trap exists because of the fish. Once you’ve gotten the fish, you can forget about the trap—Chuang Tzu
It saddens me as much as I know this news will sadden you, but this will be my last museletter for a while. My court appointed attorney, an unhealthy oppressive white male with an obvious addiction to aspartame named J. Ronnie, told me not to say anything about my arrest but he knows nothing about Siva Rae, holistic wellness, or my community and how much you all mean to me and I to you.
If you think you’re free, there’s no escape possible—Ram Dass
On my final night of my vision quest, I admit I was severely dehydrated. I had spent many dark hours expelling the poisons inside of me onto a judgmental chamisa bush I was desperate to silence. My eco-friendly water sack had run out, but I decided to spend one more night so my quest would total 6 nights (my master number is 6), and I could complete my spirit journey vision quest alliance. The jailors in the emergency room said I was also malnourished which is a lie based on brainwashed Western ideas about foodstuffs and nutrition. I had eaten plenty of small reptiles and cactus fruits. The FDA gestapo probably wanted me to ram Twinkies and diet sodas into my womb to create more robot consumers of refined sugar, white flour and tortured-animal-based fats. Hold on. Cleansing breath. I didn’t get abducted into the US medical corporate war machine until later.
You can’t wake a person who is pretending to be asleep.
At dawn after my last night under Mother big sky, I understood clearly what I needed to do to right the terrible wrong inflicted on me. At the time I was wearing two borrowed hotel towels that I had fashioned into loincloths. My hair was matted and my face covered in dried mud, urine, and excrement from an indigenous desert cleanse I learned about on a border crossing in 2005. There may have been some dried blood mixed in there as well, formed into a handlebar mustache-like shape. I could investigate this deeply as a masculine manifestation but I do not have the time.
The wise man does nothing, while the fool is always tying himself up.
The police report said that the sexist guys driving delivery trucks started calling 911 when I entered the downtown area claiming that a “freaky hare Krishna chick with facial hair” was running down the middle of the road barefoot, waving her arms and howling at the moon. There was no moon that night. Goddessdamned liars.
Make ‘being’ your priority, not ‘becoming.’
Even though J. Ronnie says to admit nothing, I am not ashamed that (after replanting) I threw that planter through the “place”ment window at Joshua’s copycat evil dwelling. Or that I used one of his supposedly “not for yoga” mats to clear all the apothecary jars off the shelves and onto the floor (which was sealed with a sealant that reeked of toxins). The police report said I used the mat “like a baseball bat” which is another chauvinist fiction since I regard baseball basically as a reenactment of gang rape.
Mental activity is like a deadly poisonous cobra. If we don’t interfere with a cobra, how poisonous it may be, it simply goes its own away.
The hardest part was tying my torso tight enough so that when I kicked out the ladder, I would stay suspended in a crucified position for the hours necessary. I’d had a vision in the desert that said the only way Joshua would understand how he had forced me into the victim role was to become the ultimate victim. I wish I had documented my empowered move that morning. Shit would have gone viral. When Joshua came in and saw me crucified on the metal beams above his counter, I thought he’d get down on his knees and have an epiphany-induced revelatory reckoning episodic re-visioning. Instead, he calmly stepped outside and called 911 on a cellphone! A device we both swore to resist because of the impact those spyboxes have on your vital organs, reproductive systems, and the erasure of past life memories stored in your spirit soul lock box. And they kill angels and wood fairies too! Maybe cause brain cancer in birds and small woodland creatures. Research is still out on all that, but I bet it’s true and more harmful than (I was just cut off by the bloated fascist monitoring me and my freedom of speech).
A person who has not passed through the inferno of their passions has never overcome them.
Namaste for now fellow gods and goddesses, angels, yogis and yoginis, vegans and veggies, pathfinders and wanderers (cut off again).
Please acknowledge and respect my imprisoned name since I refuse to be just a number.