I woke up this morning in an orange dystopian world. An eerie darkness filled the room as a faint rusty glow bled through the blinds. Profound silence swept the streets and with it all forms of life vanished. My breath and the beat of my heart were the only things that reassured my existence. A viscosity that of molasses filled the air weighing down gravity itself, or at least it felt like it, as my body lethargically swam back towards the dark depths of the room. The curiosity within me sought external perspective so I dialed into the digital realm. What followed was disheartening to say the least. People from all over questioning if this was the end so nonchalantly, exposing the desolation that’s taken their lives hostage. I ask myself, how is it that we are so quick to **** ourselves? How is it that we’ve grown incredibly numb in a state of great psychological stress? I ask as the answer stares me in the face. Optical dopamine beaming into my cornea penetrating parts of me I thought only I had access too. Altered genetic code, altered state of mind, altered fabric of space and time, altered reality.

Still, I cling on to the utopian beliefs that veil my unwavering optimistic heart... and I pray.

You weren’t born to fit in. You weren’t born to make money. You weren’t born to climb someone else’s ladder to success. You weren’t born to play it safe. You weren’t born to please. You weren’t born to be partially you. You weren’t born to be perfect. You weren’t born to be defined. You weren’t born to be emotionally numb. You weren’t born to live vicariously through others. You weren’t born to **** time. You weren’t born to float in the iridescent ocean of your soul.
You were born to become more and more yourself. Take a deep breath...
Dive.
Dive.
Dive.
Dive deep to parts of you unknown. Find courage in vulnerability. Find that which makes you full and whole. In finding your self, reclaim your feathers, spread your wings, and soar.

It was scary as a child because I felt there was nobody to relate to. Everyone had perfect lives in their perfect homes while my family continued to perfect the art of barely getting by. There was an invisible pressure that strung us together, which knotted right at the belly. When one person felt empty, so did the other, though hearty smiles and mindfully bright conversation gave us the will and the strength to continue moving forward together and often masked the face of uncertainty. Overcoming adversity was the way of life; it was all we knew.

As an adult, I see that there is no such thing as perfect. That a “perfect house” can be an empty home or no home at all. I see that often people mistake perfection with privilege. I know that at least I did. Life wasn’t unfair; the circumstances were just different. The rules of “the game” were all the same but weighed heavily in favor of Uncle Sam’s offspring. And they still do to this very second.

I know now that there’s an entire world I can relate to. That there are other dandelions growing through the concrete that tried to keep them from becoming the sun. I’ve experienced the perfect home in a place with no house at all. Overcoming adversity is still the way of life, but what’s changed is where the string had been strung. No longer bound through the belly, but through the heart filling any emptiness felt with rejuvenating life and the universal power of love.

Distance fades all things known to exist. All matter, all memory consumed by the horizon. We live in chasm between the past and the future where the only clarity is now. This enigma is intrinsic to our theoretical realities. That is unless we move with our eyes closed. Maintaining the vibrancy of the ruins in our path. Retaining unobscured echoes from all who came before.

It’s easier to jump off a cliff than it is to love. Let me clarify that statement. One you know exactly what’s going to happen, the other is entirely unpredictable. One is quick. The other takes time. One is you, and the other takes two. And although we end up falling in either case, one brings death, the other bares life. To love is not easy. I mean to really love; the type of love that breaks down all your walls, tears your flesh right off your bones, shatters your knees, rips out your heart, and captures your soul.
Somehow you’ve made love so easy; I mean the feeling, not the process if I’m honest. I look at you and I see you shine. It’s crazy how at least right now, you’re mine. I don’t know what the future holds for me and you, together or alone. I do know that I love you though. That all I want is the best for you, so you continue to smile, grow, and glow.
Yeah, it’s easier to jump off a cliff than it is to love, but you’ve unpredictably turned that around overtime, barring new moments, new feelings, new meaning, new life.

They invite you to dwell on nothing and everything at once. Oddities that soften the sounds that surround you and amplify the beat of life in each breath you take. Far from strangers but hidden in plain sight. Indulging your focus through a narrow tunnel view. Dilating your pupils and lifting your skin through spontaneous extraordinary sensory awareness while depriving you the passage of time. A temporal trap in eternity before you snap and walk away.

Can you believe that in some counties here in the Bay Area, a six-figure salary is considered ‘low income’? Hell, if Silicon Valley was it’s own country it would be the second richest country in the world, just behind Qatar.

So tell me why, being in such a rich part of the world surrounded by the latest technology that instantly connects you to people and resources there are kids that live on the street with no food to eat, or clean clothes to wear? Why are teachers reaching into their accounts to provide those same kids and others with tools, knowledge, wisdom, and hope to persevere and overcome these atrocious adversities? Why are communities and cultures that have been deeply rooted for generations disappearing in plain sight? Why do people live in tents and some in cardboard boxes? Why, with all the money, power, and resources at such close proximity, do “invisible communities” exist? Let’s face it, if six-figures is considered low, then the average person must be nothing.

Sustainable regenerative models have an underlying sense of belonging. If we, and willing we can, cultivate real relationships with our neighbors we can work together to create a community - a society - that is nurturing and beneficial to all.

A tree works best in a forest, not alone nor in a grove. Alone the tree can only do so much and a grove is much to similar and demanding. But a forest however is diverse and naturally connected by way of life, never taking more than than needed, but always giving more than expected. A natural ebb and flow inclusive of all in proximity and beyond.

But what do I know. I’m just a tree planting a seed among a forest that could be.