~๐ต๐‘’๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฑ๐‘’๐’พ๐“๐“ˆ~

โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั‚ะฝ. ัั”ะฒฮนัั‚ะฝ. โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั‚ะฝ. ัั”ะฒฮนัั‚ะฝ. โˆ‚ั”ฮฑั‚ะฝ. ัั”ะฒฮนัั‚ะฝ. ั‚ะฝั” ฯฯ…โ„“ั•ั” ฯƒฦ’ ั‚ะฝั” ั”ฮฑัั‚ะฝ

What do you bring the Mirror of your Mortality in this fleeting momentous moment in history? What seeds do you gather to save and plant in the compost of our changing lives?

In this transition season toward darkness, when veils are thin, we may feel our grief, remember what is lost, while gathering seeds to plant for when the light returns. We compost and let die, re-Member, give thanks for the harvest, gather reserves for the internal winter.

Our collective innocence is Coming to Past, as we can no longer deny systemic failure, oppression, corruption. We can no longer avoid the impacts of human behavior on the Earth. Our privilege itself is a veil, delicate, tenuous, and finite.

Disasters come and go. Civilizations crumble and are reborn in new manifestations. What seeds can we collect as we compost these ways that cannot last? What must we release in the floods of grief and transformation? What shall rise like the phoenix from the ashes?

What do we bring to the infinite mirrors around us, to be projected in this world, and beyond the veils?

All of us facing our collective mortality, our civilization's mortality.... So many disasters that have so much more impact when we know and love someone or some place~ More and more, we are all touched by disaster, and more often.

This figure sees beyond the veils in "Mirrors of Mortality", solid in his presence, yet looking Beyond. We can choose which facet of our Selves and reality to examine or ignore, yet all are but a piece of All That Is.

What is called for in these drastic times? To be grounded, present, as chaos swirls around. To hear and hold space for each other in our grief and release and anger and fear. To look Beyond the illusion of separation and come back to choose love.

To be flexible yet strong so we can bend with the hurricane, shed our old beliefs and attachments like autumn leaves, burn our safety blankets and illusions in the raging forest fires, yet remain ourselves intact, unburnt, and even stronger.

Feel love like rage for our transforming Earth. Hear the dying keels of another civilization that has outgrown its bounds and its resources. Civilizations come and go, our ancestors found... Yet it is Us who are here now, to gather seeds, to midwife The Great Transition.