Traveling through the green hills of this sacred land one can feel the ancient history, the layers of legend, lore and myth that make up the flesh and the bones of these people, reflected in the foods and the goods and the crafts and the practices in stewardship of the land.
This place is filled to the brim with the deepest kind of magic and mystery, a story so ancient that it is difficult to comprehend, a time before time of dragons and angels, witches and wizards divining the truth through casting the constellations into the hills, the great lights for all to still see in wonder and in awe.
Who knows the wisdom that they carried?
Who can truly call it their own?
All of this is natural to this place.
It springs from the sacred wells that litter these slopes. It weeps from the lush trees whose roots dig deep into the soil of this land. It emanates from the rocks who remember what we have forgotten, epoch after epoch after holy epoch.
We have arrived at a moment in time where all this is set to be destroyed.
Some people will argue that this is inevitable, a glorious result of the globalization of the world. We are now one people they might implore, unified by one culture, one gender, one race.
But It is through this line of thought that we come to completely homogenize and neuter our greatest soul force and power that is connected back into our inception.
We begin to erase the core nature of our ancestral life and being, and with it, succeed in the destruction of our unique wisdom lineages which flow back into the beginnings of time, carrying the seeds of life and truth with it.
I would argue that this is not inevitable, and that it represents the greatest danger of our time, a danger which is actually being set upon us by external and malevolent forces who would like nothing more than for us to forget who we truly are.
What an abomination.
But it does not matter whether one believes this is intentional, or not.
The end result is the same: the erasure of culture, and along with it our sacred root, our sacred biology, and our sacred life.
Through the extraction of the sacred, we become vacuous, without true ancestral soul identity and core that connects us back into our natural spiritual power.
As we stumble onto the cusp of the erasure of all that is ancient, all that is sacred, and all that is true, I am humbled by the beauty of this place. I am reminded of the truth, that each and every one of us springs from the land that has birthed us, and the line of our ancestors which flows back into one single root, with a thousand, a million, a trillion leaves and branches which reflect our own personal indigenous belonging. Each of us exists as an exquisite emanation of this pure wisdom root, whose ancestors are awaiting a return through the realization of our unique and sacred form.
It is within our unique and sacred form that we come to sing the ancient song of our ancestral wisdom through flesh, blood and bone, an activation of the genome temple, the micro into the macro, and back again, lit through the tree of the sacred body, a dream remembering itself once again, a light never to be extinguished.
Never to be extinguished.
May you remember.