There Is No World

Extinction. Rebellion. Evolution. Revolution.

ello, my name is Kelly and I’m trying to save the world. It’s all I want to do these days. I cry and I write and I march and I yell and I scream and I beg and I rationalize with minds different from mine. Please won’t you join us? We’re running out of time. Why don’t you want to save the world?

Except, there is no world. Or, rather, there are infinite worlds. I am a world and you are a world and… this place we call home?

It is a moving, thriving multiverse populated with infinite, unique hearts and minds.

Yes, the world is ending. Just like it has ended a million times before. As the Earth, she continues to throttle through the sky: worlds sputter, worlds burn, worlds dissipate, worlds die.

But energy doesn’t die, it simply changes form.

We may feel like we’re ending, but there is no end. A snake eating its own tale. Destruction leads to creation, again and again.

Infinity is a circle.

Change, the only constant.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try!

That we shouldn’t do everything in our power before we run out of time. Except, we are not running out of time. We are OUT of time. Not because it’s too late but because Time is dead. Time is done.

Time never existed in the first place. Not the way we storied it. Time is a tale we told ourselves to understand our mortality — because we live in containers that expire.

Entropy, yes, but time doesn’t pass.

Time is part of the fabric. Time stretches, time moves as we move. It is singular and infinite and the present moment is the only thing that exists.

All boundaries are false. All categories and limits and edges are illusions, delusions of our limited human perception.

There is no world. And time doesn’t pass. We pass.

The way we approach the crisis is part of the crisis.
Words are spells.
Extinction is a story, rebellion a reaction.

What about evolution?

What about revolution?

Dismantle.

Rebuild.

Dismantle.

Rebuild.

My beliefs have been firm but they are softening. The stories in my mind beg to break. Tales of who I am, how to love, the way things have to be.

I came from light.
I am made of light.
I will return to light.
Nothing more.

The world is a construct, a storied illusion of human minds. A mirror, reflective of the collective interior, projections and reactions of awareness, invitations to understand.

We cannot save the world, we can only save ourselves. The real problem is not carbon emissions or nuclear weapons or single use plastic. The real problem is the hearts of men. Humen. We-men.

What if we forgave? What if we were brave enough to say, Hey, wait…
It doesn’t have to be this way.

Extinction.

Rebellion.

Evolution.

Revolution.

Words are spells that alter timelines.

Lately I have been so distracted by burning forests and drowned streets that I forgot. I forgot Cosby and Weinstein and all the men who touched me inappropriately. I forgot how I was all at once much too much and not nearly enough. I forgot every man who took with his eyes and muttered sexual asides. I forgot that capitalism is an arm of the patriarchy and that Mother Earth is burning because we stopped respecting the feminine.

The symptoms are not the cause. We have forgotten the root. We have forgotten the truth. If we can’t save the worlds lying and dying on our streets, how do we expect to save our shattered earth?

This is an emergency.

This is a crisis of imagination.

We are thinking too small and too big all at once. We are thinking in numbers and lines. Linear time is a lie.

So how do we break ourselves free from the stories in our minds, the ones keeping us small, stuck, paralyzed, reacting and enacting the old paradigm?

Discomfort.

We live in a culture designed for comfort. Exponential growth. Exponential need for fulfillment. We live in a culture that teaches us to consume instead of feel. To fill the void. Uncomfortable? Eat, drink, shop, travel, conquer, fuck.

Don’t you dare just sit still and feel.

But the void is a trick. The void is infinite.

Pain. Pain is the door. Vulnerability is the lock. Sitting with our discomfort is the key. Discomfort is growth. Change is stability.

You are not a hungry ghost.

You are infinite, cycling energy seeking to expand.

The real rebellion is reclaiming our relationship to the divine feminine. In women. In men. In every being beyond or in between..

In our thoughts. In our beliefs. In our systems and structures.

Intuitive.

Circular.

Multi-dimensional.

Beyond language.

The time has come for an unprecedented shift in perspective, a cataclysmic awakening of understanding, a brilliant unfolding of awareness.

The climate is changing, the planet is changing, WE are changing.

Yes, there is much work to be done, an untold unfolding of destruction and creation, dismantle, rebuild, dismantle, rebuild.

But it starts as simply this: it’s time dream a little bigger, darlings.

There is no world.

Fugitive. Systemsthinker. Saving the world is easier than we think. There is no world.