When an entire way of being, a modus operandi, has moved well beyond its expiration date, has spoiled and spilled and spun itself out of control--
What is needed? What is appropriate? What is here for us?
When the solutions themselves are born for the same circumstances that created this coalescing chaos--
what then? what now?
To be a visionary in this space is to trip through rows of funhouse mirrors, distorting reality, falling deeper into the distortions themselves with eyes wide open and arms ready to receive.
Do we call this a "mystery school"? A "priestess path"? An "activist" or "post activist" agenda?
There is no appropriate descriptive because there is no path. And all the labels, old and new and repurposed, keep us stuck in the loop. Looking back gives us information to transmute as we lunge forward. Not to borrow old language from and cling to ideologies that got us here in the first place.
And yet this is both the temptation and the urge:
To frame something within the nomenclature of the familiar. But even when the framing claims to be radical, new, different, it's mostly not. Just more of the same old same old guised in new clothes, the trickster at his best.
What is Sense-ible in this space? What is Sense-less in this space?
There is no replacing outdated ways of thinking with new ones.
There is no going back to making something what it once was.
Can you see, smell or sense the smoke & mirrors? The ones you yourself are shrouded within?
This is a beginning. Into the Sesorium.