“Camping” tools
When I heard Bro Dr Heru Khuti say that we live in the largest concentration camp that ever existed in history several things happened.
I felt grounded, the resonance in his statement was overwhelming, every cell of my body screamed a “yes, that’s it!” and I felt pulled to the ground; floored, in fact.
Thoughts swirled inside my head and the memory of my visit to a concentration camp in Germany was brought forward. I read there that the conditions were so oppressive that in the aftermath when the former prisoners were interviewed they had no real sense of the layout or the operation of the camp. I remembered the horror I felt back then and I felt that same horror coming back and creeping in when I realised I am just like them prisoners, except I am yet to make it out of the concentration camp. No wonder I couldn’t see it before. No wonder I couldn’t piece out its structure. Sheer amazement and fucking horror hit me at the same time.
I felt gratitude because finally, I got the context that resonated with my experience and my felt-sense. Things clicked. My eyes opened wide and tension and electricity ran up and down my face. An explosion. Sensations awakening in all directions.
The sensations eventually died down but that didn’t mean I was done digesting this very important piece of information. I have let my body brew that moment for months. I’ve let it touch and adjust other elements of my being in its own time. I basically allowed the Unknown to do what it does best without interruption.
Today, as I meditated over those words and what they awoke in me I remembered the book by Viktor Frankl. I felt gratitude for having read that book years ago, during my early awakening. It’s such a tiny book. A little manual. A little guide. Horribly perfect for what I now know in my body. I felt gratitude because that initial realisation moved to a more integrated spot, and that allows me to remember I have been gathering tools all this time.
Tafí, tafí, tafí the voice says.
That is, slowly, slowly, slowly in Mazatec and in the feminine voice of the Mushroom.
I exhale and I feel, I remember there are others. I feel them. I connect. Mycelia. Others. others. Many Others.
