I heard them say…

I’ve been crafting prompts for liberation, and taking my own medicine.

My heavy heart led me to this one today:

“Write a story that feels like an ancestor’s hand on your back. Something steady. Something guiding you forward. Something whispering, keep going. Start with: ‘I heard them say…’”

I let the words move through me, and what emerged was a message I knew I needed. A reminder to feel. To grieve. To burn. To act. To keep going - with love at my back.

Here’s what I heard:

I heard them say, you are not alone.

If you only knew the strength of love supporting you. Keep going.

The only way to realize your dreams is to take risks, to be seen, to offer what you have.

Your heart aches in the presence of genocide. You are a burning fire. Burn.

Share what you have. If you want to speak to the suffering and sorrow, do so. Show how you grieve. Let your grief be an open door. Hold it with reverence and care. Scream somewhere. Feel. It is okay to feel. Let the ache guide you. Pursue a world without systemic harm. Let your tears be a testament to what's holy and worth protecting.

We live in a culture closing its eyes to genocide. We live in a time of split souls. To turn away has a cost.

Let your heart guide you to align to action. Nothing matters more than fighting for earth, for life.

We are on the edge of ecological collapse. We face challenges that no human alive will be able to avoid forever.

What does it cost us to turn away?

What do we need to turn towards?

Grab your needle and thread. Begin stitching.

You can't do everything, but you can listen to your soul,

which longs to create and act for our collective liberation.

Follow the song we are here behind you.

You can write your own.

If your heart is heavy in this moment of collective sorrow, If you’re searching for steadiness in the storm, If you long to remember you are not alone -

Let this be your invitation. To write. To feel. To follow what’s calling you forward.