Midnight-Picnic

Our gauzy memories are all that's left.

[remanence-of-love]

[infran0va]

[remanence-of-love]

[merinnan]

[vloggerjim75]

[tattoosfati]

[fuck-u-maga]

[gunsandfireandshit]

[bace-jeleren]

[eatmangoesnekkid]

One of the deepest contradictions within the Lover is to desire to devote her body to sensuality, beauty, devotion, abundance, vulnerability, and erotic power through energies like Oshun, Venus, or Aphrodite while simultaneously holding contempt for sex workers and sex work. Whether one believes sex work is empowering, exploitative, or somewhere in between, condemning sex workers themselves demonstrates a big time fracture in one’s relationship to the sacred feminine.

Across history, women have navigated survival, intimacy, ritual, sexuality, and economics in vastly different ways. Many of us exploring ancestral healing discover women in our lineage whose lives were shaped by these realities some grandmothers, aunts, cousins, and even mums exchanged sexual labor whether by choice, coercion, or necessity. To reject these women outright becomes a rejection of parts of one’s own feminine inheritance. This is why taking classes like pole dance or sensuous floor work can be so helpful in dissolving these kinds of deep tissue misalignments. Deconditioning the mind and decolonizing the body are also helpful. Compost the shame during your hikes in nature. Explore hip-opener stretches. Learn to open wider in heart-connected sex and be more vulnerable in life in general.

From an archetypal perspective, the Lover invites us to replace that ‘high-horse’ moral superiority mentality with compassion and curiosity. This does not require endorsing every form of sex work or ignoring harm or exploitation. Instead, it asks us to recognize the humanity and dignity of women whose lives may differ from our own, and to examine whether our judgments arise from inherited shame, cultural conditioning, or genuine grounded reflection.

The Lover flourishes in her aura emanation where there is reverence and true love in her spirit rather than chronic judgement, criticism, shame, and critique. A lover is spacious and flexible enough in her mind and body to acknowledge the complexity of women’s lives and honor them all. —India Ame’ye

[liberalsarecool]

Freedom FROM religion is mandatory.

[histhoughtslately]

[aetas-aurea]

You do not have nine lives. You have one body, one timeline, one set of years that will not be returned to you for revision. The elderly people who say they thought they would live forever are not being poetic. They are describing a very specific and very common failure of the human imagination to make the future feel as real and as urgent as the present. Your future self is a real person who will live in the body and the circumstances and the consequences of the decisions you are making right now. She deserves better than to inherit the results of your present comfort and present avoidance.

[jus4bodhi]

Word.

[depsidase]

[seymour-butz-stuff]

Remove immunity and require each officer to carry insurance. The more fucked up the department the higher their insurance and individually it swings further based on claims.

Hit their pocketbooks the way they hit their wives and kids.

[thichnhathanhgems]

[selinakylies]

[maldoror-est-mort]

Gillian Anderson

[cryptonature]

Little Plastic Jesuses in the Woods

Somebody left little plastic Jesus figures all over one of the woodland trails I like to walk. They have big, cartoonish grins, white robes, and brightly colored sashes in a variety of colors. I’ve been picking them out of knotholes and tree-forks for days, dropping them in the recycling bin by the parking lot.

At first, the whole thing just made me very angry. It wasn’t just litter; it was litter that felt like an invasion of my own sacred space with a cheap, mass-produced icon that felt like the sacredness-equivalent of empty calories.

Honestly, it made me furious, my rage directed at a kind of deeply American-feeling religiosity that is sold in packs of 72 for $29.99 (I checked). Religion as cheap, brightly-colored, disposable eyesores littered somewhere quiet and gentle and authentic. Religion that is colorful and easy and leaves a mess behind for somebody who actually gives a damn to clean up.

Perhaps worst of all, I suspected that somebody thought of scattering the little figures everywhere as a moral act.

I’m still not happy about it, but my anger has cooled through many walks and the imaginative empathy that always arises from my long contemplations. I reasoned that it was probably a child (encouraged by adults). I reasoned that I wasn’t always respectful of wild places when I was a kid. I reasoned that there is huge, institutional religious machinery at work that seems designed to shrink participants’ worldviews down to a pinhole.

So, my anger slowly resolved into sadness.

And I’m left hoping that whoever tucked trash all over one of my favorite woodlands meets with some moments of clarity and self-reflection. I hope they consider the real value of plastic sacredness sold in bulk. I hope they consider the usefulness of virtue expressed as litter. I hope they question who they expect to comfort or convert with mass-produced trash that smells of a chemical tang, trash abandoned to block sunlight from a tiny patch of moss or wedged in tree-bark like a pebble in a shoe.

I hope they awaken to the symbolism of dropping something inert and obstructive in a place that otherwise grows and breathes and provides.

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