Círculo de palabra
12 Ak'Ab'Al
Citando a Julian Katari del 01/12/2024, 1:05 pm
Full house
It will manifest today, or at another resonant day, the action of this message. We must learn to not be bound by the limits of our blood family, or by traditional structures of how families or homes should be. The only way to keep homes traditional and "normal" is by cutting off heads. It's amazing that we are actually willing to do this just to satisfy the fetiches of our control freak egos. Nothing on this earth is normal. Even in nature, we see all kinds of stories and of families. Love is the only thing that really matters, and love has no boundaries, it's not stupid, it does not limit itself to control fetiches.
Full house
It will manifest today, or at another resonant day, the action of this message. We must learn to not be bound by the limits of our blood family, or by traditional structures of how families or homes should be. The only way to keep homes traditional and "normal" is by cutting off heads. It's amazing that we are actually willing to do this just to satisfy the fetiches of our control freak egos. Nothing on this earth is normal. Even in nature, we see all kinds of stories and of families. Love is the only thing that really matters, and love has no boundaries, it's not stupid, it does not limit itself to control fetiches.
Citando a Julian Katari del 18/08/2025, 3:20 amYour home is your state of mind.
We come not from a world of solid structure, tangible law. Soul is, mind is, flow, imagination, dreamworld. Part of our manifest in this dreamworld, nightmare or paradise, is this earth life experience. Earth though, it turns out, is the paradise side of it. The nightmare is what we are making of it. Caught by the illusion of the great evil wizard -AI, religion, government, consumerism, money, you name it- we are forced to watch the rape of our mother earth, of ourselves, while we sit and laugh at jokes and play conscious living on Instagram. This illusion begins when we are taken away from our mothers, when our mothers themselves are lost in this illusion. Pushed onto orphanage, we make of life, our goal, the return to certainty. We believe it's love and we go on that quest of the eternal, romantic search for the one. That will be home, we sing in our hearts. The illusion walks in and delays and makes this, a romantic, platonic goal; utopia. It never comes, it never is here, we can die searching for it, we can lie ourselves that we are in it, or we can disguise it with something else. The real pleasure, the real certainty, is money, consumerism, that's what we work our asses for, that's what we deeply believe brings freedom, or love.
The illusion works marvelously, you fools. Not even money, is ever, fully here. Not enough of it, not with love, not with freedom, not with a healthy relationship, not with home. We are getting done by our attachment to certainty. What really is here, what really is going on, is a state of mind, a way that you are seeing what is happening to you. When we allow ourselves to be true warriors and detach from the fragility of attachment to the outcome, when we stop trying to control and start flowing, we are home.
Home is then being ourselves, and we are never there. It's prohibited, it's illegal, it's uneducated, it's taboo. As long as we try to fit in, get along, we are sacrificing our own mind, for the accepted mind. We are denying ourselves the right to perceive what's real so that we can perceive what is being perceived, which is stated to be what is real. We are so unfamiliar, due to the illusion, to the nature of the dreamworld, that we expend our energy in building descriptions, languages and systems that give an acceptable meaning to what is flowing, what is happening, or worse, we live consuming other's. That happening is a completely different happening when we don't constrain it to an acceptable description, when we allow ourselves to be the description, to describe the world from the uniqueness of our entire being. It's a lonely path coming back to yourself. But it's the only path back home.
Your home is your state of mind.
We come not from a world of solid structure, tangible law. Soul is, mind is, flow, imagination, dreamworld. Part of our manifest in this dreamworld, nightmare or paradise, is this earth life experience. Earth though, it turns out, is the paradise side of it. The nightmare is what we are making of it. Caught by the illusion of the great evil wizard -AI, religion, government, consumerism, money, you name it- we are forced to watch the rape of our mother earth, of ourselves, while we sit and laugh at jokes and play conscious living on Instagram. This illusion begins when we are taken away from our mothers, when our mothers themselves are lost in this illusion. Pushed onto orphanage, we make of life, our goal, the return to certainty. We believe it's love and we go on that quest of the eternal, romantic search for the one. That will be home, we sing in our hearts. The illusion walks in and delays and makes this, a romantic, platonic goal; utopia. It never comes, it never is here, we can die searching for it, we can lie ourselves that we are in it, or we can disguise it with something else. The real pleasure, the real certainty, is money, consumerism, that's what we work our asses for, that's what we deeply believe brings freedom, or love.
The illusion works marvelously, you fools. Not even money, is ever, fully here. Not enough of it, not with love, not with freedom, not with a healthy relationship, not with home. We are getting done by our attachment to certainty. What really is here, what really is going on, is a state of mind, a way that you are seeing what is happening to you. When we allow ourselves to be true warriors and detach from the fragility of attachment to the outcome, when we stop trying to control and start flowing, we are home.
Home is then being ourselves, and we are never there. It's prohibited, it's illegal, it's uneducated, it's taboo. As long as we try to fit in, get along, we are sacrificing our own mind, for the accepted mind. We are denying ourselves the right to perceive what's real so that we can perceive what is being perceived, which is stated to be what is real. We are so unfamiliar, due to the illusion, to the nature of the dreamworld, that we expend our energy in building descriptions, languages and systems that give an acceptable meaning to what is flowing, what is happening, or worse, we live consuming other's. That happening is a completely different happening when we don't constrain it to an acceptable description, when we allow ourselves to be the description, to describe the world from the uniqueness of our entire being. It's a lonely path coming back to yourself. But it's the only path back home.
Citando a Julian Katari del 05/05/2026, 3:59 pmClear Sea.
No matter how right or wrong a message may be, how profound a truth or how vast a lie, on a calm and clear day, everything eventually rises to the surface. Here we are in time, floating in the middle of an expanse where no shore is in sight. The raging winds of our minds—of human psychosis and a normalized state of war as our home—have dragged us far from our path and away from the earth. We have been washed into the vast, clear ocean. As the storm recedes, we finally awaken to a place where we are no longer struggling; we look around, find ourselves, and realize exactly where we are.
The magic executed by today’s nawal is that of a vast expanse of creation within creation. Here, nothing is fully formed, nothing is certain. No one—not even you—knows what will happen, where we are going, or even where we truly are. All oracles are merely playing cards, a fool’s pastime to weather the rainy days. But today, it rains no longer. We are simply here, floating in the waters of this creation. There is no point in swimming; no point in screaming. Perhaps praying, imagining, or traveling while asleep might make sense, but nothing else does, for we are stranded in the vast sea of waiting. We are in the hands of creation, left to wherever it wishes to take us, allowing it to decide our fate.
This stillness forces us to look at the boat we are on. Is it large? Is it sturdy? Or is it riddled with holes? When a boat has only a few leaks, they can be plugged and the water can be bailed out. But once too many holes are made, bailing becomes pointless, and the rats begin to jump ship. What will you do?
The Clear Sea is the ultimate confrontation with the "Great Wait." It is the moment when the friction of the struggle is replaced by the terrifying weight of absolute transparency. In the storm, we could blame the wind for our direction; in the clear sea, we must face the structural integrity of our own vessels.
To inhabit this nawal is to surrender the illusion of control. We have spent centuries trying to steer a ship that was already sinking, using the noise of the world to drown out the sound of the leaks. Now, in the silence of the calm, the truth of our "boat"—our systems, our identities, our beliefs—is laid bare. If your boat is a product of the very civilization that is currently dissolving, it will not carry you to the new shore. The rats jump not because they are cowards, but because they have the instinct to know when a structure has lost its soul. Do not fear the water; fear the attachment to a vessel that can no longer float. In this vast sea, the only way to survive the sinking is to learn how to swim in the infinite.
Clear Sea.
No matter how right or wrong a message may be, how profound a truth or how vast a lie, on a calm and clear day, everything eventually rises to the surface. Here we are in time, floating in the middle of an expanse where no shore is in sight. The raging winds of our minds—of human psychosis and a normalized state of war as our home—have dragged us far from our path and away from the earth. We have been washed into the vast, clear ocean. As the storm recedes, we finally awaken to a place where we are no longer struggling; we look around, find ourselves, and realize exactly where we are.
The magic executed by today’s nawal is that of a vast expanse of creation within creation. Here, nothing is fully formed, nothing is certain. No one—not even you—knows what will happen, where we are going, or even where we truly are. All oracles are merely playing cards, a fool’s pastime to weather the rainy days. But today, it rains no longer. We are simply here, floating in the waters of this creation. There is no point in swimming; no point in screaming. Perhaps praying, imagining, or traveling while asleep might make sense, but nothing else does, for we are stranded in the vast sea of waiting. We are in the hands of creation, left to wherever it wishes to take us, allowing it to decide our fate.
This stillness forces us to look at the boat we are on. Is it large? Is it sturdy? Or is it riddled with holes? When a boat has only a few leaks, they can be plugged and the water can be bailed out. But once too many holes are made, bailing becomes pointless, and the rats begin to jump ship. What will you do?
The Clear Sea is the ultimate confrontation with the "Great Wait." It is the moment when the friction of the struggle is replaced by the terrifying weight of absolute transparency. In the storm, we could blame the wind for our direction; in the clear sea, we must face the structural integrity of our own vessels.
To inhabit this nawal is to surrender the illusion of control. We have spent centuries trying to steer a ship that was already sinking, using the noise of the world to drown out the sound of the leaks. Now, in the silence of the calm, the truth of our "boat"—our systems, our identities, our beliefs—is laid bare. If your boat is a product of the very civilization that is currently dissolving, it will not carry you to the new shore. The rats jump not because they are cowards, but because they have the instinct to know when a structure has lost its soul. Do not fear the water; fear the attachment to a vessel that can no longer float. In this vast sea, the only way to survive the sinking is to learn how to swim in the infinite.