Ancestral Acupuncture's Anti-Racist Plan

Ancestral Acupuncture’s Anti-Racist Plan:

I will continue to offer low- and no-cost treatment to black- and indigenous-identified people as part of my reparations plan. I will redistribute my resources by giving directly to the homeless black community and by contributing to foundations that support native elders. I will continue to unlearn racism on a physical level. White supremacy is a wound of dissociation. I will focus on inhabiting my body as direct action. I commit to educating my children with an anti-racist curriculum, including embodiment, that addresses the history of colonization in which we are complicit. Being in my body provides access to solutions that are not available to the disembodied mind. Intellectual warfare is a product of colonization. Presence is an energetic contribution to changing our cultural body. I require a container strong enough to withstand and support the massive changes underway; I commit to strengthening my body with the lifelong intention of unlearning racism and supporting new systems founded on respect for life. I intend to balance the grief and scope of this work with humor, celebration, and rest. I know that I belong to the earth, and that the earth supports me in life-sustaining behaviors.

Please don’t celebrate these words, which are not virtuous. This is a need that requires my participation, and this is how I feel equipped to participate. Big love to all of you as we all find our ways.

becoming the earth

I had a dream that I drew two circles on a piece of paper to grow information. I woke up and drew the circles, watered them with tears (every kind of tear holds a different magic), let it sit overnight, and then when I woke up, a poem happened. It is featured in this collection by Nightboat Books.

push everything that isn’t earth out of your body
even idealism
remember that humor is built in
and money is not
put mugwort under your pillow, sing to a holy well
go deep within unless 
you have children then
go to the bathroom for as long as you can
if you think you are a parasite on this land then make amends
by belonging
receive love from wherever you stand 
go deep within and let resources arise
let yourself be 
a gift. let yourself 
be opened 
pour your attention like honey into your cells
unless you have children
in which case press each moment into your body
and follow the child
inside you   scream like a wild animal 
under stress   it is real
the earth does not try to be good
if you do not know the behaviors of the earth, close 
your eyes
and wait
dreaming is our mother tongue 
reading us in the night
like a hunter reads the forest 
we are in a dark night
every star is inside you 
last night I dreamed, “face the fear that keeps you from being earth”
I am reclaiming myself as soil 
some say agriculture insults the land 
still, I am making a garden
on my way back
to the wild
through the common dark
we rail against

Medical Ballad #10

Yt is an ancient Monster,
And yt touches one in three.
'By zounds do not disturb,’ yowe plead;
‘Wher-fore plague thou me?’

The gætt of thinken opened wyde,
Curtailed from rest below;
The dark is met, the trial set:
Each tick-tock metes a blow.

Yt taunts yowe with a ghastly knell,
o’er the gate of young to-morrow—
welmanig sheep, and then the beep
Eftsoons, strung out with sorrow.

Yt fixes ye with open eye—
Ev’n heathens wont to praye.
They pleadeth like a three years' child;
The Monster hath its way.

Unending dayes! This tail of loss
is certain to have stung!
Instead of the cross, this Albatross
About yower neck is hung.

Medical Sonnet #9

Some-day on unseen fowl should ye feast,
unwitting and unvexed for twenty dawns,
till one day breaks like molehills unto beasts—
a stippling unlike spots upon a fawn.
Pray, loll about the bed if yt you please,
or swoon recumbent in an herbal bath
to make a tepid soup rife with disease,
perchance to soothe its foul, loathsome wrath.
Indeed refrain from forming joyous throngs
(no schoolhouse for a sennight, maybe more).
But ye wanted to go viral all along,
And now ye have without even a troubadour!
Yea, Heav’n always sends thy perfect match,
Its hooly image made by God from scratch.