Meanwhile I rub elbows with some of the nation’s top musicians and oldest Rastas, enjoying the fruit of the garden here.
The landscape is great, but the trip is for the people.
“I irie broda.” –I’m good, family.
Books, art, history, and God are taken from the people in any totalitarian style government. Still people ask me why I am a writer—why my dream is to write books in a time when nobody reads. This never discourages me, but raises awareness to how easily a large percentage of the population would forfeit literature and art. This creates urgency behind my message and purpose as a writer. Following the crowd will lead you off the cliff every time. We have seen first-hand how easily the media controls the masses.
Follow the signs of the universe. Once you believe accidents are an illusion, you will learn her language. We evolve in leaps of faith along a spiraling existence. Listen to your body when you are balanced and even more so when something feels off. Trust and love yourself—realize the seed of unconditional love.
I once believed that prayer only benefits religious people. Now that I pray on a normal bases it reminds me of a time, I believed I could become a writer without being a proficient and deliberate reader. As we grow, we learn to laugh in the face of our mistaken interpretations. After wasting my energy in protests of reading and prayer, I’ve fallen into a state of pure love and amazement with both.
“Irie” in my vocabulary has taken on the duty of “God”. A constant reminder that God is unnamable and unfathomable, I speak to my God as Irie. Inhale, Irie—exhale, gratitude. These mantras bring great stillness to my heart. I create, Irie—I am, gratitude. I create as a mirror image of my creator. Also, I create Irie; I create my perspective of God, my interpretations, beliefs, and relationship with God are a result of my consciousness.
