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Where the crabgrass crawls onto the path…

Writer's picture: MellyBeeMellyBee

Updated: Dec 3, 2022


It’s a good thing my feet know the way, to finding my way back to myself. Bare, picking my way through the beaten path. Thorns and stickers and all manner of creature, biting and stinging me along the way. The overgrowth in such a way that I get only the slightest glimpse of blue sky; a sliver in the distance that at times feels more like a memory. But it reappears and I continue onward. The lingering cold night clings to my bones and emboldens my old-age-joints and seizes the opportunity of my immobility. I’m slow to start and creak, painfully along- barely making a sound. But I breathe. I go back to the breath and that sliver of blue is still there in the distance, and my feet know the way.


For a person like me, living in this time is very painful, a daily struggle and down-right maddening in many ways. In the last few days, I have thought on numerous writers, poets, scientists, philosophers and scholars who quite literally went mad attempting to diagnosed and then to some degree have an impact on a universal truth that is playing out in our world right now. Yes, the story has changed a tad over time, but we have fallen into it time and time again. It happens when groups of people are pitted against one another- it does not matter the reason. One group fashions themselves superior because of X or Y or Z and they in some sense want to punish people because they’re not X, Y or Z. These people, they’re a different variety all together- more of an A or a B. And a B just wants to live their life and be left alone to do B type things, not giving an ounce of care to the difference in them and a Z. They’re happy to let Zs be- to do what makes Z happy. But Z isn’t ok with this, Z wants B to be like him. And he recruits others that are similarly like-minded to hate and shame on B until he feels like he can’t be a B anymore. And that’s sad because in an alphabet- you need all of the letters. The As, Bs and all the way through to the X, Y, Zs. Without each part, it isn’t an alphabet anymore. Just a bunch of letters at odds with one another.


And that’s our country. It’s not something that even pretends to make sense anymore. It’s a charade- trying to look like something it was at one time, when it was whole. But so much shaming and hating on people for their differences- rather than a celebration that we’re not all clones of one another, (yet)- has changed it to a jumble of groups of letters. All the Xs live here! And all the Bs, here! So, nothing makes sense anymore- the alphabet doesn’t exist. Rather the individual tribes of like-letters have bonded together and created something different. Something fractured and smaller. Something that is divided by more than just distance. Something that’s more smoke and mirrors, puppets and puppeteers and less grit and determination for the greater good. Less pursuit of greatness and more indoctrination. And it doesn’t spell anything, anymore. But no one seems to care.


It feels so alien and wrong that some days the only company I can keep is my own. My own light, that comes from a Source greater than the sticky sap that’s trapped the letters. My routine of becoming my best self helps to realign that which sometimes gets skewed with the constant barrage of fakery, in the form of images, news, art, sounds, bribes and slight of hand. My inner compass is magnetic. The truth always due North and everything else falls away from the horizon. It’s a gift and it’s a curse. But I’ve been here before. I know this place; where up is down and down is up and none of the letters spell anything. They just yell their own names over and over and louder and louder. I know this place.

It’s times like this that I’m relieved that the path back is familiar. Go to nature. Breathe it in. I can sync into the rhythm of the disruptions- I can even let the crab grass creep onto the path, slightly obscuring it’s curve… Leaves and debris are blown about, but the path remains, solidly trodden- due to many times traversed. I see the blue, though I know it’s but a sliver of what it can be. I know the way.


The challenges continue with this crazy time we live in. Every time I think there is progress, another thorn pricks my inner foot and I stumble and wonder if this time, I’m down for good. I’m not. I keep going because that’s all I know how to do. I only know how to adapt and move forward. In past selves I skipped mourning and tried to force accepting and I ended up in a deep cave of shadows…. So now I know to accept this step. Accept the journey, although sometimes it hurts a lot. I hate the fakery though, and I stay as protected as I can.

And all of the things that make noise in the world, we need to turn them off. We need to listen to our hearts, and Elders, our neighbors and our Earth. No one is an expert on anyone else. It’s an illusion. Take control and get back on the path. I’m waiting there for you. I’m down just on the other side of the bend where the crabgrass crawls onto the path.



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