what are we willing to do? how far are we willing to go?

i wonder...

what ARE we truly willing to do, and how far TRULY are we willing to go...

with this 'progress', this 'development'?

because what exactly are we progressing towards? what exactly are we developing?

i sure don't think its good... i sure don't think its exactly healthy... for real.

what are we doing to the earth?


really... like really...


i just wonder what is going thru all of our minds...

i almost cannot type my feelings out... i am frustrated... i want to shut down... retreat... i cannot express how i feel, because i don't understand??

how far are we willing to go... to progress? to live a life of middle or upper class?

to have more things, and have more 'freedoms'... to spend more money...


it goes no where... we will all die?

but, there are people dying now... BECAUSE of these ideas of progress, of success, of the reasons and rationale behind living this life...

let us look back, and this is only one historic story, there are more to draw upon, in the world... and this is what i see happening now, in the city of toronto, and 'developed' cities...

during world war 2 times, in europe... men, as they were the ones who generally held positions of power in which to make decisions...

they ended up doing things, that are just horrible... to millions of people... consciously... they lived throuh all the experiences of killing so many, of following the orders of their superiors, who followed the orders of their superiors... who follow the order of his superior... and his superior was hitler... who wanted to kill so many human beings... who he believed were unworthy of being alive...

millions of people killed... millions of people part of that killing process.

how far are we willing to go? what are we willing to do...


right now, in my immediate thoughts... there are tar sands in alberta, i am picturing these HUGE black tailing ponds in my mind... i can see, and feel what they are and ARE... these tailing ponds are the leftover of the process 'they'- various corporations, with human beings working for 'them', who consciously choose, amd listen faithfully to 'their' orders... these human beings, being pawns... working for money, to shift themselves to a more 'comfortable' position in life... WHY CAN'T WE LIVE DIFFERENTLY????... these tailing ponds side by side with the Athabasca river... with creatures and earth so beautiful and alive... it is only a matter of time before it is all gone... this tar sands extraction process is so damaging to the land it is phenomenal... it is showing up in the most obvious and scary ways via rare and horrible cancers and overall UN-health...in the people who live downstream... the people who previous to these violations of the natural beatiful earth started being performed... they lived off the land, were sustained by it... eating the animals and fish and foods and medicinces of that earth... the land where their ancestors grew, and remined healthy and vibrantly alive... the land they respect, and love, and honour... as sacred life... a living earth.

we are taking this tar, this oil... and we are building more, making more, spending more, processing more, producing more... and the marketing and advertising conglomerations are, and have been as far as they can profess... are telling us that we need to do all of this... this is what it means to be developed, to progress... and to be honest, simply to sustain the life we are living now...WE here in north america that is. in 'developed' lands, 'humans of progress'. WE here in this concrete jungle we have truly created. where we purchase purchase purchase, spend spend spend... become in debt, debt, debt...

we can retrace it all back, to the presnt... it is all really clear.

what are we willing to do... to live this reality. how far are we willing to go to acqire all these THINGS?

and why can't we realize where it all is coming from... and the processes and the harm and violation being done to our fellow humans, and the EARTH more importantly to have it.

we will all die...

what kind of life are we leading?

what kinds of life am i leading?

what kinds of life am i TRULY leading...

reflect...feel and KNOW your truth... please...



what am i willing to do... how far am i willing to go...

to do what i know is NOT right... in order to say,

'wait a minute... this is not right... this is just not right... '

when do we start to recognize who is making the decisions for our framework of life here, and it ETHICALLY, MORALLY, SPIRITUALLY, ENVIRONMENTALLY, TRULY is just... not... RIGHT...?


and when do we start to recognize we are all a part of it all...

and that we can change our ways, in subtle ways, and in grander ways... and we just SHOULD be doing both... we can CHOOSE to live differently... we can... i know we can, and ALL people CAN.

we can choose to live, be, act, decide BETTER.

for the betterment of all, and the earth. and all of the beautiful creatures, and sacredness within it... sincerely.

i wish for all to let themselves shift... shift into a place where they start to be able to ask themselves these questions, and they start to have more clarity as to their answers... because their heart, and their TRUE ethical and moral mind guides then, it guides us all.


what are we willing to do? how far are we willing to go?

YOU CHOOSE.

lightning...

oh my god...

she said...

that girl outdoor... to the rain she said it...

oh my god...

i smile...

'totally...


pachemama...

i wonder, what she is saying to us...

because i feel the power, the earth energy...

i am scared of it... i feel it you know...

but then, i am often jusst humbled by her too, you know...

those beautiful days of summer sunshine...

SO hot... or so bright, or so fresh, or so cool...

but we feel it... and sometimes it feels SO good...

this life it does...

its intense... or i see it that way at least...

but its all true... u know?


oh my god' she said...

lightning.

:)

...Love is the movement...

Meditation...

what does it mean?

what it means, is very different to everyone...

as it should be...

to me, meditation is quiet, it is calm... it is trance like, and the after-feeling is bliss...

the present feeling is calm...

it is so nice when it is with others... when we can share in calming consciousness together...

when we can slow down, together.

when we can just breathe... and not wish any harm on any other moment of existence... together.

it can also be alone!

it can be alone, lying down in my bed, or sitting in a sacred room, propped against a wall, or yoga-styles- lying down, in childs pose, humbled before the earth...

it is a place and a space of solitude, of calm... of love, and freedom...

it is eyes closed, safe... it is eyes open, conscious, present...

it is so many practices, from all around the world, across history, and spirituality, and faith and religion...

and it is all the same.

meditation.

we rise again...

i just returned from the memorial gathering that has happened for the dying of jack layton... the most conscious-kind-human-loving politician of my lifetime.

and all i can say is...

we rise again.


we rise because it is just right...

we rise together, as we.

we rise for we, for each other, and we rise for the earth.

we rise for each other, for each others well being,and life and death.

we rise together, with each other... because we are all equal, and equally alive. and important.

we rise because we can... because we know it is right to stand up together, for what is right.

i will always rise, i will always stand tall, i will always rise again, and again, and again.

i know what is right. and i believe in it.

so did jack layton...

i pray that those who believe in him, in his doing what is right, for all and everyone...

will rise up.

more firmly, more clearly, and more together.

i hope we let his life and his death remind we, that we are we.

and we are one.

we are one people, we are one earth.

we are one love.

i pray, and i meditate on, and i dream, and i wish...

we rise again.

IN MY roots...

in my roots...

reggae, islands, mama africa, rastafarian TRUTHS...

the strength in growing one's locks...

in expressing beliefs so STRONGLY through ones hair... through ones expression of their body... of the extensions of their body...

i have never been able to do so...

altho i always have felt the core of me BASED in dreadlocked rasta cultures...

the freedom of connection to the ROOTS... to the earth... to faith with what is natural...

to resistence to what is UNnatural... with resistance to NORMS... that are ok sometimes, but oftentimes RESTRICTING to us human beings... from being connected to that which is real... pachamama, the earth.

morgan heritage, a reggae artist i really vibe with... says 'you don't haffi dread to be rasta'... and what that means to me is it doesn't matter whether u have dreadlocks or not... it is the philosophy, and the ACTION of what the intention of rastafarianism is...

and its righteousness, and truth... and respect... for eachother and the earth.

and THAT i believe in.

and its being thankful... and humble... and FULL joying that which we have been given...

the music, the cultures... that are ASSOCIATED with rastafarianism...

they vibe with me inside... in places and ways i cannot even partially express with words... only FEEL them as sensations... in my mind, body and soul. sincerely... and simply.

it is an honour to be welcomed into a culture that is not the same that i physically encapsulate... but do... at the exact same time.

and so i give thanks... and relish in the connection of i n i...

it fulfills my soul, and gives me energy... to recycle, and give back out to others, as they give to me.

i feel it...

in my roots...

STRETCHED... b/w high-ness & grounded-ness.

a place i am learning well.

we all take things, drink things, do things... to feel better.

to feel healthy, whole, better, more energized, more calm.

some are prescribed, some are socially acceptable.

some are legal, some are illegal.

some are potent, some are softer, slower... more subtle.

some are sensitive, some have side effects.

this can be coffee, it can be sugar, or chocolate... it can be herbal, medicinal plants from pachamama... in the form of tea from my garden, or magic mushrooms from a field.

they may be a pill to be taken a few times daily from my doctor, or a capsule i bought from a trusted friend at a electronic music festival in the forest.

it may be me going to the cafe by myself, or to the land with my ancestors....

we are all human beings in this earth. on this earth. with this earth...

with each other.


i give thanks for life i have been given...

i give thanks for the pleasing and healing possibilities passed onto us by all that is creation.

and i do not, and will not judge others for what they choose to do while navigating through this course of life.

we all make choices to enhance, support, heal, calm, play with our conscious and unconscious existences... and we need to recognize that we are ALL choosing differently, but choosing nonetheless.

...

sometimes i feel stretched... as i am high... yet still grounded.

i am high in my consciousness, yet rooted in the earth. and i feel lengthened... stretched above to below... below to above.

i reach up... high to the sky...

in balance, always.


I am in balance.

because my faith and my groundedness is in pachamama...

mother universe earth creation. and all her inclusive cycles... life and death.

STRETCHED in between.

Righteousness.

It is what i am aiming to live my life with... it is what i am always reminding myself to BE.

I am who i am. I do what i do.

And while some people may not exactly understand it... i can assure you, it is always done in a way that is righteous. Or consciously intended.


Sometimes i catch myself being a human... a creature who has been socialized by the values of the society in which i was raised, we all have been.

And i catch myself thinking or doing those lessons that this society and culture and all that has influenced me have taught me...

And sometimes another essence of me sort of whispers in...’wait a second... that’s not right.’

Its not right to violate people. Its not right to harm others. Its not right to consciously live in dishonesty.

It is right to look to my brothers and sisters with eyes of truth, and caring, and respect.


Sometimes when i come across people, or figures in society who carry some kind of weight, where their role is SUPPOSED to be deserving of respect... such as those in positions of power and authority... like a police officer, or a boss, or a government ELECTED official... and they are not living RIGHTEOUSLY... i feel frustrated. And i don’t want to be, i never want to be frustrated, or angry... i completely believe in being peaceful.

Being peaceful is at my truest core nature... because this earth is so perfect and beautiful... and so is all of our natural roots connectedness. And i find such beauty in it all... that i know the earth and all of us living beings within it are meant to be peaceful, and in true harmony and balance with eachother. That is the utmost beauty of life and death. These cycles and separate species and dynamics all fit together into one beautiful perfection.

Underlying all of this is respect... and acceptance. That we ALL are one. That we ALL are part of eachother.

I believe this so absolutely completely.

And we are harming the earth. And there are people who have the power, who violate that power, because they are not doing anything about it. And they are playing games with so many people, and exploiting them... with their dishonesty.

And all i want to do with my human life is live righteously... with respect, and honesty, and peacefulness, and joy... with those around me, those who live on the same land and earth as i do... and like the old camping rule... leave it better then when i came into it...

And you know what... i simply cannot stand by when i see another harming another... i cannot see it and just turn and walk away... i do not believe in that. That is not taking care of my fellow human beings, and that is not taking care of the earth.


So if the police are out there in my community and they are wondering what my story is... this is it.

Simple truths, for real.

So let us righteously come together as human beings, and find our righteous balance.

Peace.

Chai

In India it simply means tea.

Tea that you share with all those around.
Neighbours, friends, brothers, sisters.

Chai that you buy for the cutie sneaky kids on the street.

Chai that you sit with- and look over the Ganga water in Varanasi- sipping out of a mini-terracotta cup- that you can smash on the ground after so it falls apart back to the earth. It's a whole experience that is wonderfully so satisfying.

Chai that i brew on my stove-top pot at home now in Canada... for all my babied- or pregnant sisters.
To Share our experiences over, with and through.

Chai that steep-ens over a day or two, with its cinnamon and ginger, cardamom and cloves... plus almond milk to soften and hold the flavours.

Their truest most richest flavours coming together in delicious synergy... to warm us and our insides during these cold winter days.

I make a whole big pot on purpose- knowing it will be shared for the next days. Not knowing all the reasons yet.

Wednesday the Mama's gather.

Thursday i go to dinner at a lovely friends, and i bring her some tea.

Friday- a long lost rainbow brother comes back into town- and we fill in the blanks over chai.

Saturday- a respected elder comes over to simply BE with me... a time so absolutely meaningful comforting and guiding... as my friend just died in Chile the night before. I am in shock. I needed to be comforted and warmed... we shared and talked over chai.

Sunday- last jar of chai... strong, dark and rich. It was needed. I sat with my sister- it was her best friend who died. We needed to just sit... and reminisce... Remember who he was- who he is.

He always added joy, warmth, and comfort.

Chai, tea... its more then the physical form.

It was brewing as i sat with my Mama Sisters... brewing as they brew new life in their bellies, or strengthened the child who fed at their breast... with loving spice.

Chai- it's loving energy being transmitted from mouth to mouth, belly to belly... heart to heart.

I sneakily know the story- namely THIS one... of the connection that this particular brew made.. easing the flow of life and death with the comfort it brought... the conversations and stories and emotions that its heat and warmth and spicy love nurtured, evoked and comforted.

Holding it- warming our hands... pleasuring our senses... and giving us a reason and focal point to connect.

Chai.

Differences we share completely... Uganda. my short time in mama Africa

Short Story

Hello everyone who is reading this...

i want you to know you are many, from all parts of the world and life moments right now, and i just ask you to take a moment and acknowledge that- you are also all connected, through me... and through our ancestors, through our earth- its creatures... through our breathe and its cycles.

Thank you.

Now, i will give you all the EXTREMELY short version of what i just did- for all you non-readers out there- who cannot bring themselves to read the beautiful details... i get it- we all do things differently.

Basically... I put a short time- 16 baby days in the scheme of life- in faith`s hands on my little journey to mama Africa, to Uganda, and it was absolutely beautiful.

I was picked up and stayed with a kind and caring family in Kampala- my friend Moses Bukenya’s family -feeding me my first traditional meals- taking me to their traditional doctor to welcome me to their land.
We then went to see an AMAZING traditional dance performance- Ndere Dance Troupe (I put names here so you can google!)... goin straight to the ROOTS of tradition right from the moment i stepped down...

Then went off to Jinja for a few days- where i white water rafted on the Nile River- in level 5 rapids!... And my big toe-nail was ripped off that day- FULL POWA! i also went to the source of the river... in Jinja i got a beautiful dress made in traditional styles there- i look SO `smart` in it as the lovely Ugandan`s say! It is so beautiful- i feel like my soul, and thus my physical being as well fits this culture and so its dress displays this.

I continued on via slow bus transportation down towards Kabale – it is always extremely lovely in being with the human beings who LIVE that life- in that slow intense movement process. the next day i headed towards the Mgahinga National Park-craaazzzy! I was on the back of a motorcycle- aka Boda-Boda- no helmet OBVIOUSLY- bouncing around going uphill overtop of mostly potholed black solid volcanic rocked `roads’! There i trekked and saw some of the last remaining Mountain Gorillas in their mama earth NATURAL habitat- this was bordering on Congo and Rwanda- surrounded by mostly inactive volcanoes- and that was really something special- there are approximately 9 million people for every ONE gorilla in this world right now- so i saw some beautiful and very unique creatures- that i also believe are part of our ancestral family. Scratching their asses, lying on their backs chillin’....eatin’ some berries...

From there headed to Lake Bunyonyi- where i fell in love (yet again!) with Mama earth... lakes, mountains, travelling via dugout canoes (from 30 year old non-indigenous eucalyptus trees),
birds galore- the sounds of the creatures singing all day long, changing in symphony from night to day, and day to night- full moon, full sun, sorta cloudy during the days, with the sun peeking through... cool at night... swimming in such beautiful clean safe waters... and the voice of the drums calling out- talking to all the people of the villages that inhabit this lake filled with islands of families and ancestors and history, fish, crayfish, lands and waters of farming, and story.

Here i stayed in another one of the highlights of `sanctuaries` now in my memory of perfect places to connect with Mama earth- Byoona Amagara.

i spent 4 nights here - half in my own special dome- sleeping open to the sounds, air, elements of mama nature, looking out to the lake...During this time i also became a really trusted friend with my junior- Isaac- a 21 year old university student (rare for a villager-islander in Uganda) - who also took me to his home where some community divas drummed and danced for me,
and i hula hooped back, and Tibetan singing bowl-ed with them. Such joy we felt together. I shared so many beautiful stories with Isaac while there in Bunyonyi- and he introduced me to some very special parts of his culture that can only be seen as blessings. His aunt died a couple days before i met him- and i went with him to the `burial`- taking place in the church- that overflowed with comforting supporters in faith... carrying over to the Aunt`s house, where it had been full of family for the past 4 days as a fire burned to keep them warm as many people travelled, sleeping outside to hold space for the family...The day of the burial that home on the side of a mountain was a flowing mass of people- with a preacher leading songs of faith that became the centre of attention... not the recently buried aunty just feet over to the side. I then spent a couple days of conscious solitude in my little dome on the lake... and before i knew it- it was time to leave. Isaac was going back to school in Kampala- the main city- so we voyaged together, and he spent time shopping and carrying my bags for me- ha ha... and then i left.

It took me 4 planes, including an airport change in Washington to get home... yikes, and the next day was Pedestrian Sunday in my beloved Kensington Market Community i live in here at home in Toronto, and i totally rocked the hula hulas- 2 now- all day-dancing to my communities music, and consciously sharing all that i had just felt and learned and loved in mama Africa- back here- with as many open souls as my soul could touch.

Done.

I love you.

Sunni Elise Rochelle


Longer Story

Nice huh?

Now i feel like i have free reign.... anyone who is reading from this point forward is likely in it for the full blah blah... good, i like you! I want to share with you an exercise i re-wrote from the Thanadoula/ `End-of-Life Care` program at the Institute of Traditional Medicine that i am doing. And i will be graduating from on November 20... and will continue on to do my placement in a Hospice, humbly working with and for living/dying Children and their families. I will add that that the only ‘tasks’ or hobbies i brought with me on this voyage related back to this program, a few pieces of motivational writings that were handed out in my program, and i also brought a blank journal so that i simply had a space to process- via visual, or written.

The following i glanced at many times throughout my trip to reflect on, but formally wrote my responses on my flights home, from Uganda to Ethiopia....

Life is... simple at its root. And so beautiful. The Maya (illusion) changes it- but i Know the truth- it is simple and beautiful.

The thing i want to do most during my life is... just be happy and peaceful.

The most important thing in my life is... done. I went to Mama Africa. Next is kids. And Family.

My life up to now... has been one big fat blessing and lesson. Really good, really privileged with so many beautiful experiences that i sort of cannot even comprehend consciously- honestly.

In the future... i dunno... that makes me a combination of nervous and excited.

At the Moment I feel... present. Not exactly the physically healthiest- but mentally,
spiritually so calm, peaceful and thankful.

I`m happiest when... I am adventuring with my soul. And when i am connected to those true pure places- where i cannot even process attention and intention... but beyond.

When I am alone... I get a lot of good thinking and processing and pondering done. And... I am more open to different possibilities happening.

I believe strongly that... we are not moving in good directions in the `developed’ world. And so i search for answers `OUT’ of there. And i believe strongly in being
thankful and grounded, and humble.

What really turns me on... is a hot man- to be frank. And on my own... the mystery and minute-interconnectedness on an AMAZING grand nature of mama earth nature. And lots of energy too.

Right now i am feeling like... thankful. Ready to be at home revelling in its beauty-but yet also a bit sad i am not there, and a bit uncertain of the future.

Death is... how it’s goin’ down. Inevitable. A place to blossom from, to live from... and with too.

What frightens me about death is... also what is beautiful- its mystery. And the process of how it feels afterwards. For the living. I am not really scared personally about ‘death’... maybe physical pain.

A Corpse makes me feel... unsure- it depends... more scared/uncomfortable, then comfy. Because its face invokes the memory and reality that it once did house a spirit and function as a moving human being. WOW. What changed?

Our methods of burial are... not right. Independent from our lives, our communities- our lands and our roots... but that is society as a whole. Not focused on natural- where i believe they should be.

Cemeteries... are quite peaceful- they hold ‘emotion’- and space to BE emotional- in prayer- in reflection. Sort of bizarre for what they truly are- holding spaces for the physical bodies- that do not truly decompose anymore because of caskets and’ grave liners’.

Mourning about the dead is... good and healthy... WITH SUPPORT. It is also important to process the reality of one’s death. It should not be done alone- ever.

What really depresses me... Modern Developed Capitalistic Consumerist Mentality Money Oriented Society. The wealthy and the privileged- and how they don’t second
guess/question exploiting others with their power. What really depresses me is when i see it- and feel it.

I could accept death when... it happens... processing it is another story. But quite simply- I always accept Death.

Right now i feel... good about getting to explore these feelings. Excited about exploring these ideas and feelings with others- and supporting them to feel healthier- and to make positive growths out of the deaths they’re
processing.

Life after Death... Over. In our conscious realm- as in- we cannot understand/or comprehend what comes after- we will only know then. But i think we can feel good about it, because it sets up nice feelings for whatever is to come.

Reincarnation is... really nice. Maybe sometimes it happens... maybe, sometimes not. I do not believe there are a finite number of souls but infinite life energy... that is recycled and grown and depleted too.

The Soul is... what i say when i am describing my purest, happiest, most charged, yet also most calm place. It is a feeling, and it also is energy. It is consciousness, but also not physical or see-able. It feels so alive. Maybe it does continue after life?

Heaven is... a story, a narrative... to believe in after death- but i am not sure of its ‘reality’.

First breathes in Mama Africa...

To start the story up again... let me bring you and i back to those first moments i was there in Mama Africa... a place and feeling i had imagined for so long...

I cried as we were landing. Deeply cried. It felt so nice... wow. It was NOW. I got off the plane- second footstep brought me down to my knees in prayer- then i did kiss that tarmac.

I grounded here- in Mama Africa- wow...

Right now I AM in Ethiopia.
I am in Africa Mama Africa.
I went to the airport- so little it is. Once i found out the essentials- I was so happy to find a prayer room attached to the bathroom.
The bathroom has a squatting toilet- it was so nice to go back to my beloved squat toilet like in India and clean up a bit. There was even a special sink set-up to wash feet.
I washed up... then went into the women’s prayer room.
And i cried- my forehead touching the ground as i spoke to myself- ‘I am in Africa. I am humbled.’
I started saying what i was praying for... but then i just stopped.

I pray.

I pray for it all... and i am humble in prayer.

This was how I landed in this land... how i arrived in Ethiopia. Then continued onwards to Uganda... spending my first 24 hours with my brother Moses’ extremely kind and gracious family. They hosted me in their home, and took me to that beautiful dance show... fed me traditional food and gave me a chance to adjust to the massive differences that are prevalent between Canadian and Ugandan cultures... wow. His sister, Sanyu, left for the night so i could sleep in her bed... her newborn baby and baby’s ‘sitter’ beside me on a mattress on the floor... So kind they were, caring for me- fetching and heating water for me to bathe in that next morning... and then they let me go, helped me on my way to carry on with my journey, as I only had a couple weeks to explore their country’s beauty.

...

Some hours later, I arrived in Jinja, and decided to walk a distance into town... it was late afternoon, and the sun was ABSOLUTELY beautiful... this is how I came across the war cemetery... the first place and moment where I could sit, in fact lay on mama earth... Mama Africa Earth... and just Be.

It just so happened that a saint-like woman in my program, Susan, now a dear friend and role model to me, well You see, her father dreamed of being in the army, being a war vet... and in preparing for our programs retreat into the woods one weekend back home, we were working together to create a memorial for him... So in these moments, my thoughts and prayers moved towards him... my beliefs on war are left out of this story, out of respect for all these lives who were involved in wars, and for those who lived righteous lives while dreaming of fulfilling this dream... Susan’s father did... and I brought with my notes on him... to consciously keep him with me for her memorial.

Who would have thought that here in little Jinja, Uganda, they had sent some of their beloved family members to fight in WWII as well...

So here I was on this beautiful sunset evening, sun beating down right into my SOUL... paying to tribute to all these unforgotten souls... lost in the heart of war... and i was able to just TOTALLY connect with them all and the beautiful Mama earth.... in this cemetery- a place where prayer and acknowledgement of the beauty of life and death fits.

The River Nile.

The next step in the story was beautiful, and honestly, in hindsight- an honour to have been on those waters. Historically- in the 1970’s time that President Idi Amin ‘ruled’- he would get his army of human beings to throw their fellow human beings into that same beautiful river... where the crocodiles would kill and eat them... an unnatural genocide he forced even upon the natural balance and harmony between species. Eventually in resistance people slaughtered the crocodiles so as to save their own lives. What a bizarre and extremely sad method of resistance... when we have to fight against mother earths creatures.

The river Nile truly is a history in itself of many people of different faith and religious traditions and this water flows throughout Africa. And here in Jinja- the Nile begins...

I took a boat tour one afternoon to a point where you can see two different currents moving- one the source of the Nile, and the second Lake Victoria.

I went to a fishing village on a little where i allowed myself to be SWARMED by all these amazing curious children who inhabit this magical flowing intersection. All poking, looking, laughing... and me RIGHT back at em...

They even fed us some of their food, made with all these little teeny fishes they caught and lived on, sold, along with matoke, one of the other carb-y staple... boiled green bananas/plantains... either kept in the same banana shape, or mashed (my preference!)... these strong-tasting little silver fishies i ate sustained this community.
Some of the women just sat with us as we ate... and they genuinely would not accept any money for it... you see... it is not about the money... it never truly is... we in the western world say ‘money makes the world go round’. IT DOESN’T. It’s us, it’s how we are when we are together... telling stories, inter-generationally, of our lives... laughing together, with our curiosity... i left one of those little ladies with the bindhi that was on my face... like, i cannot explain the joy i feel, when these connections are made... from india, my soul and faith... to me... to these lovely human beings who fed me and shared their joy with me... just because...

On my white water rafting adventure, there was a huge dam being built that we approached as moving peacefully down a gap between the rapids. All i have to say is my heart hurt for a moment.

These things we do in the grand name of ‘development’ and modern reality. Water should flow- it naturally does- and this was the beginning of the Nile. It needs its power to move itself all the way through the continent to support all the human beings living, cleaning, washing, drinking from the waters. There are homes, and ancestral lands and lives taken never to be given back again- this is ‘moving forward’ into ‘developed’.

I often wonder what exactly this 'development' is growing into....

Mmm hmmm...

From Jinja I had a big journey to go Southwest towards the border of Congo and Rwanda...


Let Yourself be Grounded. The lesson of the Mountain Gorillas.

A really important lesson came to me the morning while preparing myself for going to see the gorillas... i once heard someone say something like ‘Before action, one must practice their spirituality’. I have heard it in many different realms now.

Before doing something that will be full energy... exciting, scary, full power of any kind.... take moments with yourself, to be conscious... check in- where are you right now? How are you feeling... where are those feelings coming from? Be honest, because it only makes sense to be completely honest and REAL with yourself... when this world is not exactly always honest and real with you... ya GOTS to be able to be that way within yourself huh?

SO, in Uganda... i am going to see gorillas... WOW... what came to me... was LET YOURSELF BE GROUNDED. That is to be understood in every way you can think of... and more...

Feel your feet and your physical body physically ground itself... feel the mama earth beneath your feet... and let her hold you.

Let your mind, your wandering excitable mind be calm, be grounded...brought back down to a balanced place... connected to its roots... in the earth. The ground...

Let your ego be humbled... bring it back to reality... these gorillas... REAL. This is THEIR habitat, their home... they are still living with the land that sustains them... here, and now. WOW, what an honour...

Let yourself be grounded...

And your spirit... Let it be completely within the earth... and when you are there, in the same physical space with those creatures... who are so close to us in so many ways... yet now seem so foreign and distant to us... feel them with your spirit, your soul... we share that... and in that moment, when you are there with them... you are connected... ground yourself in that moment... now...

And i did... just that. I sat on the ground and just breathed in the same air they did. What a special opportunity.

I had some ethical issues with the fact that every single day there is one hour of human staring presence in their environment, and to be honest... that’s a lot. Like stalking them... BUT, at the same time, this FUNDS the protection of them, and their habitat being kept safe for them. So i do feel it evens itself out. It feels like an acceptable balance of give and take. I would encourage all of you to explore your ethics in this situation... and in EVERY other moment you make a decision.

After the gorilla hour was up... i along with the guides walked back through the villages to go back to the park entry- where i was staying- in a simple hut and a simple manager named Saturday. ‘Why did he have that name?’ you may ask. Well simply because he was born on a Saturday. :)

We walked though fields and rolling ploughed lands...

Farming and the Physical Earth

‘7 up 7 down’ a family once said to me...

'We are farmers’.... the 7 is the shape of the hoe that they use to turn the soil... to prepare for planting... to prepare for the rains that come... to prepare for the food that sustains them.

‘We are farmers’... this is how we are meant to connect with the land...

The land had little paths nooked in and around and between fields and patches of beautifully ribbed earth- ready to sprout with life... surrounded by the possibility of bloom. My fellow brothers and sisters scattered on this land digging, cultivating... preparing... working their land.. sustaining their families. Being WITH the earth... living through it.

I got to walk with the children of the hood, and the Mamas- with the babies on their backs and water on their heads and in their hands.

I smiled and laughed with them. I was with my fellow brothers and sisters who still live with gorillas in the same habitat. Naturally.

'Mzungu’- they laughed and yelled. White- it means.

‘Mudugavu’- i responded with a sly loving smirk. It means
Black.

Yin-Yang.

...

As we walked... some people offered us freshly-picked-and-cooked... once nurtured-and-planted-right-from-that-LAND-we-were-standing-on POTATOES- a staple of this land and these beautiful people. That is nourishment- that is medicine. And it is local, and organic. The fruits of their labour... and given with love.

All over Uganda, and i saw a fraction of it... that land is fertile. This area where i was- in the southwest- also is the land where many inactive volcanoes sit- with black porous volcanic rocks still covering the earth.

Imagine riding in a motorcycle- a ‘boda-boda’- on uneven roads covered in those hard-yet-light chunks of volcanic rock... layered so that you bounce up and around, your bags too, gulp. Yep, did that... without a helmet... (Sorry all the ‘parentals’ in my life... blushing!)... it was one of the scariest rides i've been on, and lemme teeeelll you, my thighs were in pain the next day from my grip on that bike, eeek!

One day i commented in my journal... ‘Even the mud puddle is rich... creamy red earth’. And it was... the earth was red in this way that truly touches my heart. When i think of it and remember those first days beaming into an ‘oh-my-god’ smile... noticing my toenails and feet were temporarily-permanently red from walking on the earth... what a beautiful grounded calm soothing shade of earth red it was... Is.

I moved from these villages of seeing the gorillas, and simply existing in these lands... and I moved towards the water... moving towards Lake Bunyonyi... that i saw photos of, and knew this was where i would spend time in peaceful meditation...


Yoga. ‘Union’. Sunrise, and sunset...

Yoga actually means Union. The asanas are the postures we practice. But yoga is inclusive of all these moments of connection.

Those were beautiful times being able to put my head straight down into mama Africa earth... and do a headstand.

Be upside down Totally connected... releasing... breathing into and through myself- looking at the world in reverse... looking at a tree- helping to ground me... at the sun- to give me energy to hold my focus...

I spent many really beautiful moments in Union... in asanas, the yogic poses... and most definitely being conscious... feeling one-ness.

I learned to do this in India- a time in my life that also taught me and gave me a chance to connect with my Prayer... to connect with and explore my faith.

And here i was in such a beautiful peaceful place...

Somewhere that touches me so deep... it brought tears to my eyes. It took my breath away- without taking ANYTHING away... but adding. I cannot believe still that i was there.

I remember one beautiful evening at sunset where i felt mama earth’s power so strong... I went to the ‘flats’- this flat quiet space... where the lake surrounds it 270 degrees. You can watch the sunrise from this little finger of land- the 'flats', and also the sunset...

This one evening... i was there, doing some sunset yoga... it was getting cool, but i set my gear up... lit a candle, burning incense... my beads and my little bag of stones and special prayer bits... its like my transportable alter.

And the wind was STRONG... it was so strong... wow... I’d never felt something like this... It progressed quite suddenly... and it was so powerful... It is as though the mama earth creator was speaking to us somehow... making us pay attention... made ME pay attention.

I sat down... to listen.

I wanted to feel these beautiful winds... let them whooooosh over me... take them in with all my senses.

I felt so little, so insignificant... in the most humbling way.

When i was in India- a friend bought me a CD of Tibetan Buddhist Monks chanting ‘Om Mane Padme Om’. Its like an hour long, and to be honest... I LOVE IT. I listen at home now often when I just wanna be peaceful... relaxed.. it is deeply connected as a prayer of compassion.

This was the first time I even felt compelled to just start chanting it... it fit you know? To be sitting here in Uganda, Mama Africa- surrounded by such immense beautiful beauty... and this wind just swirling all around me and the trees and the water...

A breath of remembering...

It was beautiful. Chanting felt like I was thanking her... mama earth- for sharing. It felt like a secret message... like she was showing me her sneaky strength... as if I didn’t know.

And as I chanted... the winds picked up... ‘all of a sudden it was like I said the perfect utterance... and I had awoken the Mama.’

I had a moment wondering... ‘Eeeek, should I go into shelter?’ I was actually scared. It was evening and almost completely dark... and with the wind and the cool and the intensity... it was beyond words... But I flowed with it for a long time... I sat through that extreme feeling of minuteness, of awe... of the power in the beauty of the elements showing their fullest capacities... wow.

Shortly after, the drops slowly started coming... ‘and I was peaceful. How Blessed to have felt the rains here... I have smelled the raindrops...’

And that smell of rain, that feeling of build-up and then release- straight out of, and In nature... it is a sensation that is a pleasure to be in.

...

I now want to change the feeling for a moment... to share another written piece that I wrote...

I FEEL MY PRIVILEGE.
I feel my privilege.
As i sit here in a dugout canoe.
From a 25-30 year Old eucalyptus tree canoe.
A probably 12 year old boy behind me is paddling
me to a beautiful island home in Lake Bunyonyi.
I feel my privilege.

I recognize my privilege when i start saying ‘I need’.
I don’t NEED anything, i have all i need to live. Healthily- in such luxury.
Whenever i say ‘i need’... then I recognize my privilege.

I know i am privileged when a young shaven-head beautiful, insightful and intelligent-Eyed girl asks me quite pointedly...
‘What are you doing here to support the people...?
And i have nothing to respond with.
Then, i know i am privileged.

I see my privilege when i say from my heart and soul-
‘I love the mystery...’
Of not knowing exactly where i am going.
Of not knowing exactly how the wonder of travelling this beautiful Mama Africa will turn out.
I see my privilege here because not everyone has the luxury to know it is a
mystery that will turn out-
That will turn out okay.
That they never have the freedom to explore those mysteries because they are working right now and all the time to truly survive-
to stay healthy.
The fact that i can be here in Uganda- on something I’ve been calling a spiritual
journey...
Then here i see my privilege.

I feel my privilege when I’m surrounded by thirty young-in-age-and-maturity noisy british Mzungus on a tour... all of us with so much money- me included... and we are able to order whatever we want from the menu... while our brothers and sisters- their peers in age- have been in the kitchen since the time they have been awake, till the time they are done playing their drinking games... catering to them...
All i want is to be humble... HUMBLE HUMBLE HUMBLE...
I want to be in the earth.
I’m going to the earth.

I know i am privileged when i feel sick by my own privilege...
And honestly-
I should.

Truth. All of it.

I carried all of these feelings with me throughout those moments- those moments that stretched out to my whole trip.

It is not surprising that I met Isaac.

I met Isaac, my wonderful friend, at Byoona Amagara- the little hostel I was staying in on the lake. He was born on the lands of those waters. He grew up with his understanding of life and heath being shaped by the people, and the beliefs of these islands and this lake...

The ways of moving he knows are by boat... and by water.

He now lives throughout much of the year in Kampala, the capital city for University- an extremely rare and privileged opportunity for a villager/islander like himself... extremely. His grandfather bought the first boat with a motor... that is used like a Taxi- picking up and carrying big amounts of people to the mainland.

He was at home for the summer, back with his family... all his sisters and mom and dad and Aunts and Uncles and Neighbours and Community... his Roots. His Land. His Upbringing... his Core.

I met him sitting in the ‘flats’ I mentioned earlier. He had come to visit all the young ones who worked there. He grew up with them... and that night came specifically to have some beers with an old friend. I went out to do my sunset connection in solitude and came across him instead. Blessing in disguise... After getting my yogi-ness out... they drew me in offering me a beer, and we were friends ever since.

He took me around the next day on a boat and introduced me to his family, people who truly live here, on these waters. I had a ‘dance-share’ with some of his sisters... we laughed and played and shared photos of special moments and people in our lives. I brought photos as I had learned from a friend how nice it is for those families you are visiting to share photos of your ‘family’ as well.

So we checked each other out over some ‘porridge’- a homemade fermented beverage made from sorghum. This one was only a couple days old, so not too strong yet... but give it a couple more days, and that one glass of porridge coulda me me tiiiiipppsssy. Ha ha!

It was so lovely...

On our boat journey, we went by a teeny little island called ‘Punishment Island’. This was a place where for years, unmarried pregnant women were dropped off and left... to fend for themselves... but really to die. There was and still is only one tree living there. Reality is... men would come by in their boats and pick up a young woman if they so felt inclined. The women really didn’t have a say, or a choice... it probably would have been some sort of a blessing to them... imagine...

Can you imagine?...

Many women would have died there. There was a lot of suffering- of hardship... of violation and just absolute fuckin sadness and pain. This island has a history that is so awful.

I was thankful to have been able to go by this place... so I could take moment to acknowledge these women’s lives and sufferings. So I could share with you. SO we can all simply acknowledge that they did exist. And the Injustice and Inhumanity that their lives teach us, and remind us that women all around the world, including in our own homes and communities- women are bearing the load of pain, of caring, of life... I wrote one day, while noticing the women carrying the babies on their backs, the water in their arms and their heads, wacthing them work the land, and clean the house... care for the children, cook for their man, do the laundry... sell their wares... and their bodies...

Often our breasts are full.

and our hands, and our bodies.

always working, and carrying and caring.

slowly, patiently with silent strength.

and we smile... and offer our breasts.

... And so we can vow within our own hearts and consciousness... to never inflict harm unto others... and when we are conscious that we are harming others... directly or indirectly... that we consciously make a different choice... a better choice... for ourselves, and for our brothers and sisters and earth and her creatures that we are absolutely connected to and part of.

I took moments of those women into my heart.

And I will not forget them.

Burial

That night I met Isaac, he also told me of his Aunt. She had died 2 days before that night I met him. And this just seemed to fit in with the universe setting my path- and showing me that I am on the right one.

He invited me to join him at her burial. So the day after hanging out with his family, with his land.... with the memory of those unforgotten sisters and their babies left on that island...

I joined him in comfort in the ceremonies done to commemorate the life of his Aunt.

He so kindly picked me up from the island I was staying on, and voyaged via boat and ‘boda-boda’ (motorcycle) to the church that was on the mainland. It looked over the lake.

The church was COMPLETELY full with people... the grounds also full... in fact we sat outside the church looking in... I heard the voices, but instead was staring at the structure, and the hundreds of people who were surrounding it... such energy, such comfort and community...

I was the only Mzungu... and I cannot say how much of an honour it was.

I breathed in any sense of suffering there was- a Buddhist technique that I learned called Tonglen... but there wasn’t such a sense of suffering. There were just so many people around ‘carrying’ each other... comforting. It felt like a gathering... not so much sadness or suffering.

It was such an honour.

After the church ceremony of speakers and singing, we followed the coffin and its procession of love towards the Aunties old house, where she lived her whole life, then died. And would now be buried. Community and Family had gathered for the last 4 days... ever since her death, sleeping and breathing and comforting around the sacred fire. It feels nice knowing they held that space for her... kept it warm for her to enter that same earth...

We walked from the church up and down- side to side of the mountains that surround this lake. All of us in our nice clothes, under the hot daytime sun... voyaging to the house.

When we arrived there were HUNDREDS of people.. ha ha... oh my gosh... the site of this cliff was absolutely full of visitors. The preacher was preaching. There was so much energy. So much ALIVE Life.

Isaac asked if I wanted to go in... enter that flowing crowd of people... Of COURSE I want to go right in... if he was okay with that...

So... deep breath... and we moved in.

Remember... it was his aunt. He was so good about taking me around and explaining what was going on... that I had to catch myself... to remember that I also had to support his experience of this... It was much different then mine. I mean, I was totally humbled and honoured in being there, but I most definitely had my heart-full -child-like-Being open with love and curiosity... so at moments I was totally caught up with questions and queries about this and that...BUT, it was his Aunt... so I would just breathe instead. Breathe it all in. And out.

By the time we arrived, she had already been put in the ground and covered over in cement. We missed that part as we walked the distance to the house. I wanted to kneel down for some moments- be in prayer- grounded to ‘pay my respects’ to this woman... but no one else was. And everyone was more caught up with the preacher and eachother. She was in the ground now... now they just comfort each other. The fire was put out.

‘But what do you think happens when someone dies?” I asked.

‘Nothing... the story ends.’ Isaac said and repeated...

The story ends.

Simple explanation... What a beautiful story... what an Absolutely beautiful story. This Life we have.

What an absolutely beautiful life we are living. Every Day. Every Moment. Every Breath.

One where we can ‘choose-our-own-adventure’.

One with so many freedoms, and so many possibilities.

Not for all of us...

Not for those sisters once left on ‘Punishment Island’...

Not for those mothers and sisters and brothers and fathers once thrown to the crocodiles in the Nile...

Not for Indigenous First Nations people of the land in Canada whose Earth is being absolutely violated and destroyed by the Tar Sands that we are digging up and exploiting the Earth for... to feed our addiction to fuels like oil... to power our ‘Modern’ ‘Developed’ Cultures.

Do what is Right... Choose how you live.

Because eventually the story ends... and it will end for ALL of us. So choose righteously.

Choose to live honourably and humbly. Taking care of and comforting each other just because it is RIGHT.

This is what Isaac’s family and community does. Their faith brings them together... they care for each other... support them.

It’s not even thought about, analyzed, theorized, quantified, statistic-alized... it is JUST WHAT YOU DO!

His Aunt died... people gather. I was there. He is honoured to show me his home, his family, his homeland. To take me into his family... into what his family is living... and dying.


In closing...

Before I left Uganda, I voyaged on an overnight bus and morning adventure to get to Kampala, the main city where Isaac goes to school, and to where I arrived in my first breathe into Uganda, and also where I would be flying out of!
I ended up buying a drum... my First drum... (eeeek!) and I am so happy it is from Mama Africa... The drum I bought had a shaky bit in it... its Heart.

‘Every Drum has a Heart.’ Isaac explained.

Isaac taught me about the drum... what the drum means from his perspective. And we all have different perspectives- ‘nobody right, nobody wrong’ as one of my personal favourite musicians Michael Franti says...

The last morning on the island, while really breathing in those final precious moments that will forever sit in my soul... I suddenly heard a drum being beat... somewhere on the lake... and it sounded like a heart beat.

Boom boom... boom boom... boom boom.

For Isaac, on the lake... people truly communicate through the drum. For real... they pass messages along... the waves carry the rhythms, and carry their messages.

There is a rhythm reminding everyone it’s time for church, and a rhythm signalling and warning all of an emergency, and for a burial... a death...

It talks... The drum talks...

It talks to the people of the land, and they understand... because they listen. We need to listen to the sounds of the drum... of our land, and our people too...

I do not know exactly what that heartbeat rhythm was symbolic of to them... but it most definitely carried the sound of my heart outwards... it collided with the rhythm of my heart... it felt so nice...

You see, it has a heart, and it talks... like us... we are all connected... and that rhythm can connect us... if we let it, and let us... be.... connected...through our heart.

And now, in true closing... i want you to leave you with the thoughts of my last morning, waking up in such beautiful peaceful nature... reaching a connection that i yearn for... have for a long time, and will forever yearn for until death... to BE in nature... to hear, see, and feel and touch and taste and smell all that is real...

The rhythms of their sounds.

I have watched the cycles... come and go... ebb and flow... and i have heard the birds play together and cause a ruckus in the bushes.

Last night- falling asleep- i put my consciousness on all the different sounds- and it was like a symphony. Different crickets, buzzing... frogs- deep sounds... there were so many that i cannot even label...
but together they were beautiful and soothing... together a symphony. I could
see it in my head- visually- without visuals.

Now- in the morning- i notice... its a different symphony- roosters, goats, cows- so many different bird noises... so peaceful- but more energized. Plus i can see with my eyes- the water rippling slightly... it has more movement in the air today... and the mountains... the clouds above changing colour as the sun rises...

Beauty
in mama nature...

I am humble before you...

Namaste brothers and sisters...

Sunni Elise Rochelle



P.S. I am going to just slip in a brief story that I just want you all to be able to mull over on top of this... it is regarding something that has happened since my return. On October 4, my extremely GOOD friend... my Sister, Andrea, Hippy Mama I call her... Her 20 year old son Sultan was shot and killed here in Toronto. I am so thankful that I was here, and able to support her, and give her and her community and family my sincerest energy and love... but I am absolutely SO sorry for what has happened, and the progression and circumstances that brought Sultan to his death. I am telling you this because I at one point in time did invite you to her home where we have thrown parties together... in celebration of fun and play and life... this time around we gathered again, but not in the same sort of celebration. I ask all of you reading this, and I am so happy you have made it this far... congratulations, ha ha.... But I want to ask all of you to take a moment... reflect... think of all those in your life... all those you love... and then know that all other people on this EARTH are connected to you, and to your loved ones. We CANNOT separate ourselves from each other any longer... we NEED to take care of each other... I mean it. SO in thinking of your love... I would like you to take a moment and say a prayer... for Sultan, and for Andrea, and for his younger sister Amber, and her new baby Alayah... whatever kind of prayer you feel inclined to utter and FEEL... do it. And then do it for yourself... and for your family, and your loved ones and for the Earth. Please... and do it every day...

Honestly, death WILL happen for all of you... you will ALL die... so live completely right now... not just for you, but for each other...

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!