These Holy, Awakening Times

For the People of the Rainbow...

Turn off the news. Let the chaos have its swell. It won't last forever. Trust that there's a more important world at hand that requires your utmost care and attention, beyond the vanities of politics and the quagmire of the media maelstrom. What if it's all a calculated distraction to keep you from realizing what beauty and awakening is truly happening at this time?

I've been wandering back into the old stories, prophecies, myths and legends because I know our ancestors were prescient on these times. And I also know that those guiding narratives are vital to regenerating deep meaning in a world starving for the reconstitution of sacred culture.

I find it telling that according to one of my teachers, the late, great Dave Courchene Jr. of Anishinabe, First Nations, heritage, the prophecy of the people of the Rainbow and the 8th Fire stated that those of us would be called to recognize this fork in the road, all the more brazen by the fierce compassion of Pluto in Aquarius (change or doom). These people are of the Rainbow because they see, embody and live for the universal wisdom of spirit that weaves all humanity as one, and also with all of Creation.

Many of us are so called. The tender ones. The ones bright in the eyes, teeming with love, despite all the hateful games being deployed. Courageous with mirthful playfulness even when things seem most dire. Devoted to ceremony, to ritual. In love, dearly, magnificently, with Mother Earth. Brimming with kindness even when all of the world is choosing the brutal brouhaha of political conflict.

We are the ones that walk into the middle of the battlefield without anything resembling weapons. We are fearless knowing that death is but another friend. We walk with peace and beauty in every step. We turn to both sides with a glowing smile and an offer to support the building of peace and healing. Most of the time we are reviled, even snuffed out for our bold radicalism of unconditional compassion. But we are undeterred for we are one with the invincibility of our souls.

The People of the Rainbow Prophecy continues: we are the ones that hold the old stories, the splendorous mythologies and stunning wisdom tales, that have been perpetually burned, hidden away and censored by empires that would rather distort and control the narrative from their own broken minds rather than listening keenly with the soft ears of their souls to the radiant words blossoming from the tongues of reverent sages.

The indigenous people of Turtle Island (what we clumsily claimed as North America) saved my life many years ago. No I wasn't drowning in a river or sick with some frightful disease, at least not of the body. Indeed, of the soul. I had lost meaning. I had lost connection with the living spirit of the Earth. I had forgotten where I came from.

Now, these perils are not directly mine or any of our fault personally persay but ancestrally they are the karmic load we are to not bear but transform and joyfully so when we mature enough to understand the true task of responsibility and the know-how of what's really going on on this sacred planet, we can re-weave with what has been lost. Revivify the beauty of the wisdom of the ages.

I was led back to my roots, roots so obscured and severed that they are barely still visible. Yet, the worlds of spirit are mysterious. There things that are material don't necessarily die. They sing in the wind. They are whispered from the counsel of trees. They chant in the ethers.

I haven't fully reclaimed my ancestry. If anything I learned that the horrors of history did a darn expedient job of wiping out most knowledge of where most of us came from. But there's enough there to piece together fantastic meaning. That's when I realized that the true meaning of life is meaning. We are meaning animals. We need to know. Truth is our manna. And the old mythologies have much to nourish us with.

I suckled so long and deep from ancient wisdom, especially the Gnostic Mystery Schools, Celtic and Pagan tales, and suddenly my life was being propelled into a truly heroic journey. I found purpose. I found the sacred. And now, I vie to live it.

I am no longer bashful to say I identify as one of the Rainbow People and I have been blessed to recover incredible myths that I teach and tell exuberantly to all who might listen, finding such joy in seeing them light up as I continue to light up to know there is something else going on here beyond the quagmire of politicking. Something so marvelous that the most common response is awe. Healing wonder.

And something I have learned so wonderfully in all this universaling is that all the tales lead back to the same place: to our shared Mother. Gaia and the thousands of names for which She has been and still is duly praised.

These tales paint a constellation in the sky for me. I see the stars as brethren. I feel encapsulated by the warmth of a loving universe. I know we are so cared for and guided when we shut out the fervent and dizzying distractions and witness the generous well-spring of spiritual wisdom, effortlessly, endlessly, pouring from each of our holy hearts.

It is not time to analyze nor postulate relentlessly on all the tomfoolery besetting us. In fact, that might be one of the final gambits of shadowy entities or 'wetiko' as some Native Americans call them, to distract us from involving ourselves in the greater possibilities of our times: to truly co-create the New Earth and a culture of enlightened consciousness. A world of wise of love. A world of true freedom and incredible beauty.

It is time to be kind. To slow down. To spend time with the Mother by seeking Her in Her wild, loquacious Earth. To do the inner-work so that we can be truly sovereign over our minds and hearts and no longer be brutalized into othering each other. The New Earth requires us to work together, merrily, and to denude much of conditioning that has obfuscated our true identities as children of the divine. It is time to pray, always is. It is time to gather in sacred revelry. To sing naked in rivers. To play and celebrate that Gaia is awakening and in kind awakening us, Her blessed, shining children.

Be tender, infinitely, with your self. With others, especially.

We are all walking the wound-to-wisdom road, perfectly imperfect.

It is no longer the time to do it alone.

We were born with the shimmering seeds of the New Earth nestled in our hearts. Water them with your ardent attention.

We are the people of the Rainbow.

We are the Shambhala Warriors.

We are the Earthknights of Gaia.

We are the sages of magical love.

We are the children of the Goddess.

Source sings in our souls.

Honour all creation.

It is time to co-create a culture of sacredness.

Awaken, awaken, sweet children of spirit.

It is the divine time...

Art by Rassouli