I'm Feeling More Hopeful Than I Ever Have Before.
:::Earth Day Sprouts:::
If you could kindly tap the ❤️ at the top or bottom of this newsletter it will make it easier for other people to find this publication. Ahéhee'! བཀའ་དྲིན་ཆེ།! 謝謝! Thank you! ขอบคุณ! شكرا ! תודה! Спасибо! धन्यवाद! Cảm ơn bạn! អរគុណ! Merci y Muchisimas gracias!
I took the weekend off from writing. I’ve been giving far too much of my attention away to the shadow and well, I needed a break. I figured if I was feeling this way, that all of you probably were too, and the last thing you likely needed was yet another piercing essay on the rise of the anti-christ and societal collapse. If you are anything like me, you are likely a bit maxed out too with bogus interpretations of Ishtar and Mary Magdalene*. Every year it gets more bizarre, and yet, I get it, a Still Small Voice in us yearns for The Story. But The Stories, like every living thing, must be fed well in order to offer anything of real value. And we, dear friends, have been neglecting to feed the Stories for a very, very long time.
I don’t really celebrate Easter anymore, as I have fallen far from that particular tree, but I do appreciate the many metaphors that can be harvested when observing it all from the contemplative lens of myth. And to be sure, I spent a lot of this weekend doing just that, from the ironic shores of a predominantly Muslim island nestled quaintly in the predominantly Buddhist Kingdom of Thailand where Easter means nothing. But I don’t wish to flood your already full tanks with more mytho-poetic jargon either. So much yapping these days about Jungian interpretations of trauma and spiritual bypassing. All of us wanting to get to the point already. The irony of course being, there is no point. So many opinions, convictions and desperate yearnings for answers to questions we never learned how to ask.
And now, the Pope is dead.
Painting of Pope Francis, by John Bukaty
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The mirrored conundrum we find ourselves in has us all all-too aware that what we need most now is simply to turn off all the screens, unplug everything and rest, yet action is needed from us now more than ever. So what to do!? We can’t simply keep printing out bumper stickers and attending protests. And we can’t just give up and head to bed. The world doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid. It may set the wheel in motion, and god bless Bernie Sanders and AOC for doing just that, but now it’s up to us to get in the ring.
The universe responds only to those who show up and actually participate. Those who merely observe from the safety of the sidelines are eaten alive by the black hole of shoulda-coulda. Real initiatory transformation requires from us real initiatory effort. Risk, in such cases, is unavoidable and death, well, death is always lurking patiently on the edges of change. These times call for much more than memes.
So what do we do?! The big question everyone keeps asking, and rightly so. As always however, there are no quick answers to conveniently make a power point presentation from regarding this, but there are clues, and they are all around us. And this, dear readers is what I’d like us to dance with this week. But before going further, I wish to set the tone with some delicious words offered recently by a man I consider to be one of the most brilliant minds of our time, the great Post-Activist Báyò Akómoláfé:
I am against 'worldview'. The term seems to have allied itself with a prestigiously modern conceit: the cosmopolitan presupposition that one can embark on a cosmovision shopping spree, browsing through a curated selection of worldviews. You can take on the garbs of yoga in the morning, recite the migratory stories of the Orisha by noon, and chug down the obsidian contents of an Ayahuasca cup by night, while espousing a systems theory analysis.
In modern framings, we often treat worldviews as things people hold, as if they were stable perspectives, mental lenses, or belief-systems that individuals can swap at will. This makes it seem as if the self is the sovereign chooser of perspectives, the agent who surveys a buffet of cosmologies and selects what resonates.
But this logic presumes a self that exists before the world: a self outside worlding. A self with clean hands. Transcendent and unspoiled by the poetics of the material.
What if, instead, worldviews are not views from worlds but the ways worlds come into view? What if your sense of self, your seeing, your feeling, your very intelligibility as a “someone” are not possessions within a worldview, but part of an accommodation process issued from it, co-conditioned, emergent, and entangled?
In this light, belief is not interior assent. It is not a voluntary act. Not a stable set of notions that churn and toil and heave and ho in our heads. It is what I call 'apolief', distributed across the ecocognitive textures of the world, smeared across weather and grammar and gesture. To say “I believe” is already a condensation of countless more-than-human negotiations.
To “switch worldviews” then is not like changing glasses. Or running the privileged finger down the golden fonts of a fine restaurant's menu. It is more like entering another ecology entirely. Or being entered. And such an entry can only ever happen with cracks, displacements, hauntings.
Participation is not necessarily enlistment and selves do not have worldviews. Beliefs are not things we own. Indeed, you can 'believe' something quite fervently and still be enlisted in ecocognitive operations that are seemingly in direct opposition to one's published and private convictions.
Worldings are a spiriting-away. They work by dispossession, by ontological apostasies and sensorial fugitivity. By cracks and stirrings beneath the floorboards of Being. The elephant isn't in the room. It's the room.
Báyò Akómoláfé
Art by Jon Marro
Over the last few months I have observed from across the world as my fellow countrymen scramble to come to terms with what people who live more in accordance with natural law have know for some time now, that all actions have reactions. I recall very clearly one fine day many years ago, when I was but a wee lad trying to make since of the world, while soaring across the United States over the endless grid of monoculture fields that mirror the monoculture minds of modern American thought. A distinct feeling of dread set in. Though I knew nothing then about appropriate scale, or ecological balance, etc. for I, like my counterparts was a product of the brave new educational world that suggested all matter was dead and all life but a vast endless resource for human consumption, somehow, as I flew over the dead fields of corn, I knew it all was about to end. I could feel it in my core, that all that lay before me was the result of Wrong View.
I assume a similar feeling is now boiling up from within the bellies of many. As the proverbial veil lifts and we see more clearly what the true cost is of over-consuming, of living far beyond ones means, of placing all ones hopes into a system that doesn’t even recognize the earth as sentient much less as a being worthy of ritualized seasonal tribute, an ancient voice whispers. As reality sets in and we see clearly what becomes of a people who value, above all else, monetary gain and human centered power, we come to see that we all do this, we have all been complacent, for a very long time. We were never trained to fight dragons before. But the Dragon is waking. We aren’t sure what to do but we all know the time is drawing near. We were taught to trust in other people to do this for us. We were told to put our faith is God. We were taught to invest in empire, our military, our portfolio. But the dragons belches but briefly and bam! It a goes up in flames, instantly.
But wait! We are “Number One!” We are ahead of everyone else! Indeed. So very far ahead. No longer a little fish crawling out from the sea. No longer a caveman learning how to make fire. We now have decided to be god. We have foolishly opted to become the very fire now hypnotizing our ability to see clearly. So far ahead we have come that we can’t see that what’s happening now, is the greatest thing that’s happened in years.
Some may recall, during the COVID days, when, for a brief moment, the skies began to clear. Mountain ranges around the world that had been covered in a thick smog of pollution finally lifted, and myriad animals gathered globally to rejoice. As modernity came to a temporary halt and the noisy engine finally paused, something miraculous happened beneath our feet. Earth Herself was able to breath again.
Today is Earth Day. Only a civilization that long ago cut off its sacred bond with She Who Gives Us Life would need to designated one special day to honor Her. Realistically, most won’t do anything today that is all that different from any other day. Oh, some might opt to wear a t-shirt with a painting of our beautiful blue planet on it. Some may leave the lights of for an hour. Many will surely post a pretty image of “nature” on Facebook. But what lies at the very root of all the insanity now saturating these post modern days, that which is consistently left out of virtually every conversation held by world leaders and village friends alike, all traces back to our severed mycelial relation with Gaia.
I said I wasn’t going to add to the abundance of articles being tossed around that speak of impending doom. Never fear, I won’t. This is not a message of dread but one of hope. For, to see with Right View is to see that for life to live, that which prevents life must decay. Modernity itself has become an obstacle for the continuity of life. Thus, we are now being called to come together and hospice the final days of empire.
For those fully indoctrinated by modernities arrogant anthropocentrism, this may seem confusing and/or scary. Yet for the overwhelming majority of the Great Human Story all life knew our main purpose here was to feed the next generation. For millennia, in-tact peoples the world over have devoted their entire lives to living in such a way that allows future generations to flourish, the ultimate goal not being to die with the most toys but to become good soil. All those pretty lights “civilized” man obsessively gravitates toward seem to have blinded many to this eternal truth, but an internal truth it nonetheless still is. We are here to become good soil.
For a while, I thought modernity just might go on forever. A terrifying thought which suggests that life itself would indeed eventually cease to be. For nothing about modernity lives in acordance with natural law. The entire monstrous thing runs on a set of laws that have nothing to do with the original agreements and thus by design requires that all things die so it can continue. But such a Wrong View of not only absurd, its impossible. Its utterly impossible. in every way. And as I awaken to how impossible this actually is, I am renewed again with hope.
It is true, as we have not lived with Right Relation for quite some time now, its going to sting a bit as we attempt to learn again how to find our natural bearings, as we humble our hearts and learn once more how to ask permission, how to give an honest gift, when to let go, where to offer a prayer, and why all of this matters. But as our generation loves to say, “No pain, no gain!”, right? I always hated that saying, more of a “No mud, no lotus.” kinda guy, but to each their own, eh?
So little of what we think and do in this strange era of AI infatuation has anything to do with what actually matters (i.e mothers). And now, as we are forced to realize that even the seemingly noble aspirations that we held to so tightly were also forced upon us by system seeking to manipulate our efforts, our ancient selves has an opportunity to continue the work it long ago began. Oh, I do wonder what will become of the Ratliff family as they sail away from The White Lotus into a life of simplicity!
This might not make sense to some. When our beliefs about what it means to be human are challenged, it can cause disorder. Just breathe. Observe. As Bayo says, “Beliefs are not things we own.” Most have been swept up by the life-killing belief that we can mine the entire mountain until we profit from Her last forbidden drop without making so much as a single prayer or offering anything back in gratitude. We may think we don’t believe ourselves to be so cruel, but who filled the gas tank this morning, without thinking twice? What gods do we really worship after all? I mean, really? Who is crucifying who? It isn’t your fault. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Breathe. Breathe again. There is no “you”, after all, only we. And we…“can 'believe' something quite fervently and still be enlisted in ecocognitive operations that are seemingly in direct opposition to one's published and private convictions.”
How much of our lives has been dedicated to forcing ourselves to make sense of meaningless toxicity? The American Dream. The economy. Bitcoin. And some go the extra mile and manage to get carried away by Q-Anon, MAGA and all sorts of other conspiracy theories. We don’t actually believe in any of these things. But so many generations have slipped by, unrecognized, ungrieved, and with them the elders who once instilled within us Right View. Not being able to find home, for so many exhausted lifetimes, we slipped somewhere along the line into an abysmal pool of incessant amnesia, one that has utterly distorted our vision. No longer able to see the Northern Star, we drift further still. We have drifted so very far.
Horrified now by what might be revealed should we peel back the layers of suppressed memory and finally face the ghosts of all that has been lost, we instead become the monster we originally fled from, and bow before the very ones we fear. Every day we do this. We all do. The part of us that doesn’t see it this way, is alone in a dark damp room typing up an angsty tweet to all those WEAK and INEFFECTIVE people who don’t see things the way we do.
So busy. So very busy. Too busy to find the space and time to recall what it was we once firmly believed in the first place, because it was actually true. Having grown accustomed instead to what we think we know, we experience thus a rather haunting feeling of anxiousness when met with something that is actually good for the collective. Not understanding it, we see it as bad, destructive, apocalyptic.
But all apocalyptic means is to reveal, to uncover. Empire has been killing life for a very long time. Many of us were too busy benefiting from it to notice. But now, all is being revealed. And all is becoming soil. Time is at work here, as ever. If we wish to participate in the regeneration of Now, we will need to align our actions again with those taken by the noble beings we once were, the ones who knew how to take only what was needed and to always give back more than was taken. The “normal” way of doing things won’t allow us to do this. Always forcing us, as it does, to “get ahead”. But now we are being handed again a great opportunity to re-enter reality. And this, I think, is a thing of great hope.
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Over the next few weeks, little by little, I’ll be carefully dissecting details hidden in the cracks of the cryptic word-noodling just tossed haphazardly over your tender eyes. For those curious in going further, I invite you to tag along! Borrowing from time tested practices that aren’t new age or :woo-woo” in the slightest but are as practical (yet surprisingly overlooked by most) as calling ones politicians and demanding change. We will be exploring very tangible ways in which we can reorient our minds in ways that allow our bodies (both individual and collective) to become well prepared to do the Great Work future generations are asking us now to be courageous enough to show up for.
A portion of your financial contributions will be donated to helping friends whose lives are in danger due to the recent cutting of USAID funds.
Thank you for being here.
All blessings,
Gregory Pettys
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In honor of Pope Francis
266th pope of the Catholic Church (1936–2025)
ONE LAST THING.
*Not all takes on Mary Magdalene are all that bad. I recently read The Madonna Secret by and it was excellent. I highly recommend it!
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.peace be with you.
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🍉mayallbeingsbehappyandfree
Indeed, great hope. Thank you for your wisdom.
finally got some time to read- glad to take in your reflections from across the world again. let's do an episode for the podcast on the mekong? give story to the rivers who are characters in all this too?