Círculo de palabra
Jun Keej - Gathering yourself
As the trecena of the Jaguar comes to an end, we are watching what was hidden and occulted rise into plain sight. What thrives in shadow weakens in exposure. Magic loses its grip when it is dragged out of the cave and forced into the open field. Illusion depends on obscurity; once illuminated, it must either transform or dissolve.
We are entering a time when it becomes increasingly difficult to deny that the world has been hijacked by a cartel of vile, psychopathic opportunists—people with access to power but little wisdom in its use, people who handle forces they barely understand. When the structure starts cracking, the collapse is not clean. The mess splashes on everyone. No one remains untouched.
That is why we must tread carefully. The new sun is unforgiving. It exposes weakness immediately—what is missing, what is hollow, and perhaps most confronting of all, who or what we truly serve.
Take David Icke as an example. Attempting to tie ancient Mesoamerican sacrificial rites to the modern nihilistic elite as if the latter were a direct continuation of the former is not only historically careless, it is spiritually irresponsible. It collapses complex traditions into a sensational narrative for impact. That move is dangerous. It reveals something uncomfortable: the temptation to say whatever generates attention or income, regardless of rigor or coherence. When visibility becomes currency, integrity is often the first sacrifice.
Yet as everything comes into the light, another realization dawns: nothing is entirely solid. There is no lineage, no tradition, no representative of any tradition that stands one hundred percent complete and anchored in absolute truth. We do not possess the full truth. Yesterday’s Kemee reminded us that we can and must excavate the past, reconstruct what fragments we can, but it is futile to anchor our criteria solely in what we uncover. The past informs us; it cannot imprison us. We must act from what we feel, what we directly know, what we can shape now into the future.
We are living through a moment in which we do not yet know what will hold us together, what force will assemble and summon us into coherence. And yet assembly is necessary if we are to build a humanity that survives the collapse of this one. Many sense that this configuration of power—with its weapons, wars, industries, and extractive logic—cannot sustain itself indefinitely. It must pass. But dismantling is not enough. To move beyond it, we must begin agreeing with ourselves, then with each other. We must gather. We must reconstruct. We must resurrect into a new body, a new mind, a new time, a new world. That is the teaching of today’s Keej Nawal.
I have awaited and prayed for this gathering for decades. I know it is in our hands. The world is not waiting for a savior descending from elsewhere; it is waiting for us to assume responsibility. The spiritual path, if it is real, is profoundly physical. It is about grounding this realization in action. It is easier—and more comforting—to imagine spirituality as an invisible rescue mission that extracts us from earthly suffering. Buddhism, Christianity, and many other sacred teachings can be narrated in ways that support that interpretation. But that reading can become another spell, another anesthesia, another way of postponing embodiment.
As gentle as the energy of the Deer may feel—emerging from winter into warmth, moving beyond eclipse season into brighter alignments—I do not expect immediate mass gathering. Before assembly comes purification. We are still in a phase of airing our contradictions, confronting our shadows. Solitude remains the crucible. If you are ahead of that process—if you have faced yourself and begun again—then today is truly a fresh moment for you. You are grounded. You are current. Others, however, remain entangled in survival dynamics that are not easily escaped. Like any mafia, people remain not only for profit but out of fear—fear for their livelihood, their reputation, even their lives.
Corruption permeates far beyond visible elites. It extends into industries, corporations, institutions, governments, religions. This is not about a single centralized command structure issuing orders from a hidden throne. Corruption operates more like a field phenomenon. It is animist, gnostic in nature. It moves through connection. Everything is linked in a vast field of influence, and we align ourselves—consciously or unconsciously—with certain currents. The popular image of transhumanist chips linking brains to computers is a crude science-fiction metaphor for something subtler that already exists: minds are interconnected through a shared field. Within that field there are layers, nations, dimensions, lines of resonance. We can become trapped within them without any external coercion. We participate in our own confinement.
Coming out of the I’x trecena, we have seen clearly that the trap is in the mind. The demons, the energetic parasites, are patterns of thought and belief. They do not only feed on fear; they feed us narratives that guide our behavior, steering us down pathways that recreate the very world we claim to resist.
Keej does not panic about the world’s collapse. The world will do what it does. What matters is whether we lose ourselves participating unconsciously in it. Today is an invitation to gather with ourselves first. To reset. To place our own well-being at the center—not in selfish isolation, but in grounded integrity. This does not mean withdrawing from others; it means becoming available only from a place of wholeness. True gathering can only occur among those who have faced their endings and chosen to begin again.
The ones who will thrive are not the loudest or the most sensational. They are those who allow themselves to die to a finished past and resurrect completely—clear, embodied, and unafraid of the light.
