I think I’ve succeeded in the art of visualizing creative rage. It comes up within me, from deep inside my heart, like a red lotus. I feel the fiery blossoms spread and grow throughout my entire body, into the very tips of my fingers. It’s a rage that lies in my blood, inexplicable, ancestral. I use it as a tool, using the energetic to execute the physical (because they really are inseparable, the same). It is what causes me to bend my body in seemingly painful ways every morning, practicing the ancient practice that might help me move along the path and move things within myself. It is what causes words to find their way from my head into a piece of paper. I am that which destroys in fiery rage of the heart, burning all to ashes before I plant a seed and create life anew. I build fires, burn flowers, burn incense, burn writing, all in offering.
This is the age in which fires will burn, not only physically, but in our hearts. I use this red flaming lotus within me to create a new type of creative destruction, the personal sort. Perpetually destroying myself, perhaps I can cut through the layers built up through all of my lives, and get down to the truth, the original bright kernel of fiery existence. Connected to that which was, to that which will be. Breath and rebirth connect me to my parents, to my grandmother, and my grandfather whom I have no memory of. Flames encircle my sisters and myself, the future of our family. We are bound by blood, and we are even closer to discovering that original piece of existence than any of our ancestors before us. They predicted our existence, calculating and foreseeing what moves might bring us from the ashes.
I’m here to help heal the ancestral wounds of others, to hand out fiery red lotuses to my family, to those I hold dear. In the closely connected bundle of kinship, I will destroy what I call “me," what I call “real," and will uncover what really lives in the roots of existence.
I am a seventeen year old writer and aspiring anthropologist with a love for languages, words, and the world. My favorite thing to do is sit on the side of a dirt road, drinking chai and eavesdropping on conversations in languages I don't understand. Find more of my writing at http://gypsyamritamack.tumblr.com/