For much of my adult life I’ve marveled after synchronicities, those mysterious moments when something presents itself to me with timing seemingly too perfect to be considered mere coincidence. People experience these events in various forms: a strange alignment of numbers on their clock, a phrase uttered by a passing stranger, or even phone call from a friend they were just thinking about.
Drinking cactus juice is no walk in the park, the viscous texture lingers in ones mouth. After Finishing the glass of green goo I found myself getting exhaustively tired, I felt like I was hundreds of pounds heavier, even my eye lids felt heavy. When I poured the glass I submitted to the achuma spirit, asking for knowledge, wisdom, a sign.
And so they remained on a dying world as billions of lights spiraled all around them weaving a new world of love, a new home. The ones left to witness the death were those who had killed the world… the ones who had drained the life of love right out of it.
"Banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we have been waiting for." — Hopi elders
