When I was in first or second grade I started a club called
“Spacelings.” It was spring, and
we took old chenille bedspreads and cut them up into little girl-sized
capes. We used magic markers to
emblazon them with mysterious and unearthly symbols. Then, donning these alien artifacts with pride and awe, we all ran down a
steep green hill in Central Park together screaming, “Spaaaaaaceliiiiiiiings!”
The pounding of our little feet hitting the ground made our voices choppy, like
motorboats. The cotton strings
we’d sewn barely kept the capes attached to our outflung arms that were held
aloft by the wind that we were creating ourselves as we hurtled down the hill with no concern for our safety. Everyone was welcome, even boys, because the more
of us equipped and flying down that hill screaming, the greater the magnitude
of the force we generated with our glee.
I have adopted this as my business plan.
Years ago, I dreamt of a tree
that represented a network that could go anywhere in any world. It was brand new, and something I felt
I’d been building since the beginning of time. It was necessary because the old
network was haunted with demons of misinformation, ghosts of past experience
that would always misdirect us back into just the place we were trying to
leave.
In my dream this tree was near completion. But before I was tempted to feel special because I had done such a wonderful thing, it became clear that this is what we’re all doing, building grids and
access points to the truth of what we are. Those pinpoints leading to the Mystery are everywhere; we just need to
connect the dots. The timeless
sense of this task made me understand that this purpose was hardwired into a
level of self beyond what can be tinkered with by any human desire. It’s my job. It’s my cape.
I know in my bones that what comes next for us all can only
happen when we reclaim our interconnectedness, when we stand together in the
liminal place between what we’re made of and what we create. This intersection
is where it all gets designed, and from here there is nothing we cannot
build. We are designed to function
in this way. When we stand here
together, we stand everywhere.
I’m shy to the point of tears to say this, but I’ve built
something, and I so want people to come play with it, to fly down the hill screaming with me, just because we can. Anyone can join, but you have to bring your own cape.
With love,
Mia
