Flight Song verses

“Flight Song”

sub-verses

Unlike a flock of planes

Haunting the horizon

We don’t leave so easy

Our true fight is arising

Realizing this place

Is not for the living

Realizing our fate

Is not just for sitting

 

And of all those things that won’t stay

The false idols to which we’d pray

I will unearth them for you tonight

(Bury them by fire alight)

Can you hear your choice this time?

 

This is our flight song

To leave is not wrong

For green pastures, not lawn

Our power’s not gone

Starting now we’ll stretch long

We’ll play our flight song

And we won’t care if nobody else will leave

Cause through our flight we may inspire, not please

 

Losing use lends to dreamless sleep

Static civilization’s toll is steep

In an atrophy too deep

Say you’re not yet too weak

It’s been all through your years

A well-used body is your best home

You miss your muscle toned

And in stillness we believed

But now in motion we are relieved

 

And of all those things that won’t stay

The old roles that we used to play

We will burn them for heat tonight

Can you hear the choice this time?

(even if it does not rhyme)

 

This is our flight song

Things just aren’t right song

The path is (A house is not) our home

Our power has far grown

Starting now we’ll stretch long

We’ll play our flight song

And we can’t lead others to follow

All we can do is flee or in misery wallow

 

Migrate out of this rat fight with me

 

Adapted a-way from “Fight Song”

now, out of your seat

to build a better beat

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When You Catch the Plague…

…Return to the earth, before you are placed there regardless of your best efforts to prevent it! Anyone’s plague susceptibility (anyone in western society, at least) is in large part due to our general distance from the earth and all the balancing properties intrinsic to it. I mean this a lot more literally than you might thus far think:

For a long time I’ve held and—when feeling jolly and okay with taking on the role of a friendly goof—spoken that if one is ever very sick, especially with a high fever and an unknown diagnosis/prognosis, the best remedy is to bury oneself naked, standing/leaning most of the way under the soil with just your head exposed. There is something very intuitive to this idea that I could never dismiss as being absurd, and also it is the most holistic thing I think you can do for yourself, even perhaps before you are deathly ill. We all ultimately are made of the earth, no? Why not reduce our surface exposure when we are most vulnerable, and let the mother protect us? It’s compelling to think of being surrounded by a cooling soil when you are highly fevered; or having this firm, reassuring hug when you have the chills; or allowing a solid substance to absorb and dissipate your waves of nausea.

Of course this is not something that I would personally brave to do if I were seasonally sick or unwell, being so stupidly invested in polite society and trying to appear as normal as possible… but if I woke up with a Lou Gehrig feeling of a countdown to my death, I would get my ass into a muddy hole very quickly.

I think this notion might have stemmed out of noticing how much better I feel lying on the floor than up on a bed while enduring a stomach virus, and there daydreaming of being outside and feeling even better (of course its ironic that when people are very ill they are kept inside, even when it is a beautiful day). When sick I would also do things to numb my senses by throwing a towel over my head and closing my eyes to make everything seem more distant. I have a feeling that the earth has incredible abilities to mute our minds when they are reeling in agony. Our senses which enable us to be highly mobile and defend ourselves in a faster paced above ground scenario, will be rightfully allowed to put their guards down, and we can allow ourselves to become tree-ish and effectively weather the onslaught.

So what of the seasonally frozen tundra that so much of western society has stubbornly deployed itself upon? I think the ground being frozen is a big message to all of us that we aren’t supposed to be living here, or that we need to hibernate.