We all do it. Rehearse loss in our happiest moments. Imagine the worst case scenarios under the guise of preparation. Preparing for what exactly?
Heartbreak. Rejection. The apocalypse. The day our loved ones die.
We humans have such a resistance to merging with love, when it’s truly what we all desire in our innermost core.
I’m not sure why it’s this way, but it’s undoubtedly innate to the human condition to fear merging with love.
So we prepare for loss by imagining it. In our happiest moments, the highest peaks and ecstasies of love and bliss and joy, we inevitably imagine the come-down. The loss of the very conditions that bring us to such higher states. After all, we live on earth. Whatever goes up must come down at precisely 9.81 meters per second squared.
It’s a strange kind of grief. Aching about something that may or may not happen. Mourning past versions of yourself and timelines that may never play out. Futures that you don’t even want anymore. Reminiscing upon people you once knew, loves you once had, homes that you no longer live in, places that you’ve outgrown, where the ghost of your past selves still roam.
I have grieved the writer I could have been, and the poetry I could have written and the future I could have had if I wasn’t so insistent uprooting my life every time I felt a tug at my intuition. I’ve mourned my childhood innocence and the way I didn’t love myself more when I was younger. I’ve mourned my own maidenhood many times even though I am not yet a mother.
And lately, I've noticed this same anticipatory grief spreading through the collective.
We're all feeling it. The way life is accelerating. AI. Humanoid robots. Global tension. We're grieving a world we haven't even lost yet. Preparing for an apocalypse that may never come.
Grief is a trickster. It does not care much for timing, though it rarely arrives late. It loves showing up early, visiting the mind uninvited. The mind which can be so cruel in its rehearsals when it falls victim to the collective frequency of fear at which so much of humanity vibrates, especially these days.
These days, we can feel things changing. Can’t you?
There has never been a time in history more fertile with potential; for both creation and destruction.
But I’ll tell you what. Fear is not the solution.
Fear is the cousin of grief. It pulls us into its orbit and suddenly our imagination so cruelly pulls us into timelines that were never meant to be ours.
You are not meant to fear the unknown, no matter how much the news media and fear mongering tells you to, I stand firm in that statement.
You are not meant to fear the unknown. You are meant to dance with it.
Surrender to her endless possibilities and do everything you can to move as the most evolved version of you. Pretend you’re an angel in training, sprouting wings from your spine every time that you smile, speak from your heart, or do something kind for a stranger in need when you are in overflow.
You earn your wings by living open-heartedly. By meeting those trickster spirits of grief and fear with love and gratitude.
After all, grief is just another form of love, isn’t it?
Yes.
The Dragon
So listen here. Let me tell you one of the secrets from my own lineage. The teachings the elders whispered over fires to initiate the young into their power. Your imagination is dragon that you either learn to ride or let obliterate you.
In its cruelest form it burns you; wounds you with vivid mirages of suffering that don’t actually exist yet.
The moment you lose your mother. Break-ups or promises broken or judgements from friends that actually adore you. The apocalypse we’ve been rehearsing. A world consumed by machines.
This is the dragon feral and untamed; your imagination running wild in response to daunting futures you built within your own mind that you were never meant to live.
But when you learn to ride that dragon, you get a new vantage point. You see with a birds-eye view all that is magnificent about your life. All of the endless possibilities that extend beyond the horizon’s reach as you take flight.
And God, is it exhilarating. To ride the dragon that is your imagination. To remember that we all get to build our own personal slice of Utopia here.
It’s important not to underestimate the immense power of this dragon.
The Alchemy
Ultimately, your grief just wants to be held and loved. Gather it in your arms and meet every sharp shade of pain with love until it turns into ribbons of silk. Until your soul remembers that you are eternal.
You are the alchemist. Kindly remember your power to create your reality.
And as this new dawn of time arrives all too quickly —robots, AI, technology evolving at the speed of light— notice your inclination to contract and withdraw. To let fear and grief be the guides.
Choose not to follow them and instead choose to keep your heart open wide, to lead with your own vision for Utopia. Show up as the person who is here to create for good, and not from a place of greed.
In a time when change and uncertainty are and will continue to be rampant, it is my belief that technology will evolve mirror the human condition. So we, as faithful citizens of humankind, must demonstrate the very best of ourselves. Shape this collective dream with your own gifts and your own, beautiful heart.
Hold your frequency high, and let them rise.
And when fear and grief come knocking at your door, get your riding boots.
Take them up high on the back of that beautiful dragon that is your imagination, and give them the perspective, the reminder that you hold the paintbrush to paint the canvas that is this reality.
With every thought, every pulse, every breath.
Point the dragon toward the world you want to create, and ride it like you are the brave protagonist of your own story.
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