I am not from here and these are not my people. That’s all I can think right now as so many people across the country are celebrating a man’s death. I don’t care if he was a terrorist…life is life. And his family will mourn just like any family would. Let me back up.
I’m ripped open right now. My family decided to implode today and a lot of my stepdad’s anger seemed to be directed towards me. I was prepared, sort of. God told me about two years ago why it was that I had to come back home. I have been in meditation a lot of the day; just breathing. Trying to stay centered and not rage nor break down was work but necessary.
So like I was saying…these are not my people. My people value love and peace. Freedom. From the heavy weight of hatred, envy, greed, or lies. We do not fear karma. We acknowledge the cyclical nature of all things. We honor our connectedness to one another and everything in between. We are sad because we feel alone and outnumbered. Like strangers in a foreign land. We are not of these people and we are not of this place.
I just want to go home.

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