“Queen-like”, was the only word to describe her, with “cat-like”, maybe following as a distant second. Her eyes, green, held a depth and an intensity that I had never before beheld. Golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was mysterious, intense, and held the world in her gaze. The swirling kaleidoscope of the universe seemed to fall in line when faced with her ferocity. So did I.
I wish she could fix the world. I wish I could fix the world. I wish she existed- to be seen by every soul, and then everyone would know, would understand. We fucked up. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Where is the kindness, the empathy, the peace, the slowness of the world? I wish they would shut up. I wish everyone would shut up, turn their phones off. go outside, sit down, and just listen, hear.
That’s what I want from this magical character. What would she, could she, say to inspire that kind of trust and love and action? Just stop, everyone. Hug a tree. Feel the soft fur of the moss, a drop of water on your eyelids. The birds singing in endless pursuit of life. The low hum of the trees. They’re speaking to you. They’re speaking with love. They’re saying, “I forgive you. Sit with me. Stay a spell. Be healed. Be nurtured and nurture in return.”
I don’t know if facts and logic can change the world. It might have to be emotion. But how does she inspire that emotion? How does she find a connection with the hardened, busy, hearts of the world? I don’t know.
She laughs, a joyous, songlike, sound. She radiates peace. She changes herself to change the world. Is it enough?
We need a new religion. We need communion. We need wild spaces. How do we fight the profit, the prophet? The monster of capitalism? With love?
May all beings be free from suffering. Without suffering there is no happiness, without death there is no life. She’s crying. How does she keep going?