Because it matters

I am in yet another rose garden. Enveloped in the proud clamor of hundreds of bagpipes. There’s a competition going, and pale faces march by in smart matching kilts. Scottish tradition parades loud and proud by the lazy sway of the flax leaves, the eucalyptus and agave.

The sight and sounds summon the feeling of battle in my blood. Rolling drums, uniforms. I’m told the Maori did the haka and fought naked. My warrior line did the same on their own distant shores - painted their skin blue, laced their ferocity with mushrooms. Berserkers. Their name left its taste of terrifying madness in our tongue.

I wander a little further and arrive in front of a traditional Maori hut to store kumara. A large guardian sits over the entrance, keeping watch over their most vital food resource. He is holding his cock in his hand. Rituals still right under our noses, that have ducked under the veil of time.

But none of our heritage is out of reach. It sings from our bones. I tease it back into living memory, day after day, man after woman after man.

I make the choice to remember.

Because it matters.

#ritual #sacredsexuality #loveandwar #ancestors #lineage #heritage #remembering