Part i: Notes from the Spirit of Leadership Conference inspired by brilliant sisterhood
"Once wounded he wandered
lost, unable to protect his self his shield
in shambles, his sword dripping
innocent blood his and his innocent brothers'
the centuries of oppression, the years of fear, contained within a half shell
anger wrapped around his heart like blankets choking his scream,
stifling his voice, his song lost to the impulses of defenses
near to vanquished, he crawls upon his knees, desperate and begging, he pleads
mercy, "Ayudame," he cries, the slain in pools of blue blood at his feet, still
life knocks and the moment he has spent so long for, arrives,
a powerful note, she stands astride, legs wide, arms held akimbo
belting out an operatic tune,
"Get up! Get up! Get up.
Get up! Get up.. get uppp."
The veil of ego lifts, and the illusion of self is shattered.
"Oh," he shifts, his breath catches in his chest,
"THIS ISN'T ABOUT ME."
Part ii:
He speaks of her death "It was my job to protect her," and the repressed sob
lodges itself in my throat. My voice constricts, my spirit withers, I point
a finger and blame, "Ugly." Defeated but not dejected, moments press on
and medicine reveals itself in the guise of animals and the words of children.
I can no longer deny this song that must be sung -its upwelling a rhythm too potent
to ignore. The Universe demands it with opportunity knocking, however the wounds may still prove too deafening a roar. From the rejected hush of a people and the undulating waves of timeless connection, the voice of wisdom, rising up from the depths, reclaims its Power,
"It's all in the commitment."
Part iii:
I'm All In.
p/s/
sometimes leadership is knowing when to hold back, when to simply sit in silent strength keeping the container warm and the fire burning; sometimes victory is ambling across the desert on a hair of the tortoise shell, feeling the wind, caressing the current; sometimes life is sweet; other times it's poison; all the time, love is.
