The Time has come to Wake up to the warning signs and the ones we didn’t expect to show up in the way that they did.

I have been quiet for a while.  Quietly watching.  Not stating my opinion.

 I am tired of repeating myself.  Tired of trying to curb a herd of sheep from running off the edge of a cliff, while being chased by dark-cloaked horsemen with sinister agendas.   Tired of being a bit of a doomsday activist, despite my clawing for shreds of hope in this blog Earthnotes for hope.  

There is not much that one can say.  Also, the narratives are being narrowed down.  Truth becomes blurry in the mists and fog sweeping over. What started off as a movement to end the “story of separation” has sadly turned in what has been named the age of fractured thinking, polarization, and separation. We have such short attention spans, time is slipping by while we distract ourselves.

In our newly programmed distracted states, our minds fractured, while we claw onto dreams of sanity and idealistic security, we watch little bites of magic reflected for a moment at a time in a fractured mirror machine- these phones, which we hold on to at all times. Our lives were reduced to this delusional state. I have reason to believe that this has been the result of a kind of default addictive programming, that has taken place since the Covid Lockdown, when we sat in “boxes of isolation” looking at our screens, over two years of restricted movement and control, getting dumber and dumber. Forgetting who we are as we sought our identity and desperately tried to update our “profiles” – ironically searching for meaning and satisfaction and connection in all the wrong places.

The sweeping deceptions we have faced every day have set us into a global state of mental illness and depression.

The fears which kept us tied up, muzzled in our masks in sanitized senselessness until we became numb faceless, voiceless robots. Only mad people show facial expressions in the streets. 

Even when you met without a mask, strangers remain blank: as if they had lost their mouths.

As if they had lost their voices as if they had lost their identities as if they had lost their ability to express themselves, as if they had become so withdrawn that they could not remember how anymore.

The day the mask rule dropped, I put on red lipstick and shopkeepers were delighted to see a mouth again. We had to wear them for 2 years in South Africa.  It seems the masks trained us not to bother to smile and reflect on each other anymore.  We became blank and expressionless. I have observed this, watchfully waiting for the slow unfolding of our parcel. I noticed teenagers who had become so accustomed to hiding behind them at school, that they found it very difficult to actually show their whole faces again. They had also become super paranoid about germs and things. It’s become so much more comfortable to hide in the realm of interacting virtually, hardly actually facing each other.

I too have tasted the addiction to the endless scroll. It reminds me of the story of the little matchgirl. She was an orphan in a cold, lonely place, isolated at Christmas and hungry for family and food, and connection. All she had were a few boxes of matches, which she was selling for a living. But that cold Christmas day she lit one match at a time. Each time she lit one, it brought a vision of warmth and a whole scene opened up, a warm room, with a fire, her grandmother beckoning her, and she felt all the love and connection and belonging she was yearning for, just for an instant until the match blew out, and then it was gone, so she lit another one. She could not stop herself for it was so cold and lonely that Christmas day. So she eventually burnt out all her matches, and had none to sell, and died of cold alone on the street. That is the terribly sad fairy story that captured my imagination as a child, and it so reminds me of us scrolling through our phones.

This global addiction has struck so many of us across all walks of life. We are like millions of little match girls, lighting our last match, while we use up the very last of our resources on planet Earth, and turn away from the last chance to stop the inevitable demise of the environmental resources we have left.

Or are we finding enlightenment in our scrolling? Are we being upgraded to a new human that has all the answers at their fingertips? Which illusion is the most real?

 A new earth is being born and the old one passing away.  It’s been a time of grieving. 

But now, we need to pull ourselves out of it and remember who we are, and find hope among the compost and the flowers, by digging deep and connecting with the earth again.

Especially the children and teens. Guide them back home to mama earth, and away from the monsters in their heads, end the trope and the indoctrination on their screens, before it’s too late.

This is my warning. Forget the screens and pay attention to your children.

They are the most lost generation there has ever been.

Yet we are finally in the age of Aquarius, for real, in the 60’s when that musical “Hair” came out, it was

only the dawning of the age of Aquarius. Now, we have officially entered it.

The Age of a new earth, ruled by more feminine principles. It’s time to let go of what’s obviously no longer serving us and get on with really living.

If you are interested in a digital detox teen camp in the Karoo Highlands, South Africa.

Contact me at owlsightshine@gmail.com.

I am thinking of September.