Sent to you by moya via Google Reader:
loving you courageously
Well, welcome class. Today I want to talk to you about what I think is next. Really an old idea, I think. What's next is love. Yes. Love, love, love, love, love.
But who amongst us carry the safe secrets of loving? What elders, what children walk with the old time knowledge of a healing love? An unapologetic love? An uncompromising love? An honest love? If you tell me who then I will sit studently by the rivers of their feet, washing away all the unknowings that I have come to know, relearning our language of honesty. Our language of integrity. Yes!
Our language of compassion, written on our heart's tongue by ancients whom it seems that we have forgotten because somewhere between a dream and a timelessness, across the ocean waters, our sons and daughters, our mothers and fathers, our auntie, uncle, sistah and brodda. Yes. They all stretched – love - a fabric, thick and thin, so now here we are. Trodding, trodding, trying to heal these scars of wars of broken fiber that stick up inside out like makka.
What's next is love. But who amongst us carry the safe secrets of loving? Where are our elders? Where are our children who walk with the old time knowledge of a compassionate love? A forgiving love? An honest love? An integritous love? If you tell me who then I will trade spaces and sit studently by the rivers of their feet, washing away all the unknowings that I have come to know, because I want to relearn a language of integrity. I want to relearn a language of compassion. I want to relearn a language of forgiveness. These languages that have been carved on our heart's tongue by our ancient ancestors, who we seem to have forgotten. Please, forgive me and forgive we, for not having loved relentlessly.
Yes, in all cases, fear has been my worst enemy. Were fear not here, I would kiss you and feed you food from my mouth. And I would stop you from aching and share a smile and I would wait with you by the roadside for a while. Were fear not here, I would give name to these unnamed spaces of accountability, our responsibility to each other. These spaces of accountability and responsibility and we would both shine brilliantly. But who amongst us carry those safe secrets of loving?
Forgive we for not having loved each other relentlessly! I cannot promise to love you fearlessly. I cannot. But, I can love you courageously. What's next is a courageous love. Me loving you relentlessly. Me loving you with integrity. Because this love, our love, it can be a healing love. Rebranching itself like the roots of some very old tree in some ancient, enchanted forest whose branches are springing into today. And you, and I, and we, the community, Turtle Island, Ontario, Canada, North America, the world, Pangaea.
We can love courageously. In spite of these fears we can love relentlessly. In spite of these fears we can love compassionately. In spite of these fears, we can… What's next, Toronto? Love. Thank you.