Heart of The New World

I feel, like so many of us, bone-breaking tired. Lines cracking across my forehead, tired. Slow sighs expelling into guttural groans, tired. Stomp my foot for no particular reason, tired. "I really, really don't know" shaking my head, tired.

Stumbling through this weariness, anger, confusion, and fear, I've been seeing a shadow in my side-eye. To follow this form was, for me, a truth apparent:

Spiritual art is the heart of the new world yet born.

We are creatives that must midwife us into the future's next stage. This means that our loving creation is the response to despairing desperation. Each of us, on this precarious precipice, are reaching toward an inevitable destruction. Spiritual artist-warriors possess the gentle strength to hold along the edge, touch the bright being inside, and enter the hot terror toward home. We made home before, we continue here, and make, make, make all of the way through. Our divine choice: transform, this way or another.

I'm convinced, more than ever, that if transcendent politics were the answer to 20th century moral crisis, the art of justice is our healing for 21st century violence. We need courage, imagination, truth, wisdom, in being, more than ever.