Our New Global Village

Alvin Kevin Walton King. Ehirim Files

BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING

THE WEEKLY ORACLE
I first heard the term, Global Village, more than 20 years ago here in Los Angeles. It was the name given by host Sergio Mielniczenko to maybe my favorite music and cultural programs of all time. The Brazilian host would start in Rio, and then go to Sao Paolo, or Bahia, but like a conductor who warms up a symphony orchestra by testing all the tones before soaring into the program, he was getting us listeners ready for a sonic journey which could take us to Memphis, Dakar, London, or Kingston in a heartbeat. I loved the show and still do. But for most of my life the concept was limited to my Pacifica Radio Dial.

Lo and behold we are actually living in a global village today. I guess It was just a matter of time. A world without borders and boundaries, like the iconic view of our world from space, where you don’t see all the barriers we have created, you see one beautiful deep blue world sitting atop a marvelous background of space.

And this reality which has been with us since the beginning just hit me this week. It hit me from watching clip after clip and expert after expert and analysis after analysis of the coronavirus. And one thing I noticed was that the coronavirus was creating a demographic revolution on our TV screens. We were bearing witness to our new Global Village. One expert of British extraction, another Pakistani, this one Vietnamese. Another’s parents are from Nigeria, but they now live in New York. The next of Mexican heritage. Just as our planet traverses through the solar system our digital world of connected communication is weaving its way through our global village.

We live in a Global Village and it seemed to happen overnight. Even in America where jingoism and xenophobia are not uncommon, I have not heard too much of a backlash against our increasingly global identity. I guess we realize in a pandemic there is literally no place to hide. And there is no barrier real or fictive that can keep us safe.

So, the prophets and poets and singers and visionaries have imagined a day like today. King, America’s Moses, said that he envisioned a day, and he said it more eloquently than I, when boys and girls of every hue and stripe and origin and circumstance, while under the watchful and prideful eye of their parents, would join hands with one another and march into a present of uncertainty with a faith and love born of unity.

I have often remarked that Dr. King had a dream, and now we get to embody it. And we have thought together with the dreamers when would that day arrive? And how would that day arrive? And it seems as though overnight, in the midst of a crisis, the dream has become a pregnant reality.

So now as the baby is coming to term, how are we to care for the dream and vision and our new delicate and resilient reality? How are we to live together? And struggle together? How do we choose one another? How do we say yes to each other? Listen to each other and feel each other and root for and encourage one another?

And in this time how can we heal one another? You see I have many more questions than answers. We have moved from objections, a legal or judicial move, to questions. That is a poetic move. And the move from questions to intention is the work of the singer. And the move from intention to drama and tension is the work of the playwright. And the move from drama and tension to actualization is the work of the actor. Places everyone.

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Lessons From The Suffering

Alvin Kevin Walton King. Image: Ehirim Files

BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING

THE WEEKLY ORACLE

At this time, it occurs to me that what is need is a certain type of experience, the kind that does not readily show up on resumes or job descriptions. Folks with this type of experience, normally, we look down upon them, we pity them, discount them. Typically, we do not value them or their experience in life.

These are the folks that I have the privilege of seeing everyday as a psychotherapist. People to whom life has dealt a serious blow. They have trauma, distress, and have a hard time going on or going with flow. In fact, something has happened that has made it impossible for them to go on.

Maybe they have lost hope, or lost themselves, or lost meaning. Maybe they experienced a physical illness, a physical assault. An economic collapse. A natural calamity. A disability. A reversal of fortune. A death or loss of love.

And now they must start over. Life no longer makes sense. They don’t make sense. They now have the immense task of rediscovering who they are and who they can be. They may have to learn to walk again. Learn to talk again. Find a new way to make a livelihood. Learn how to trust again. Learn how to do relationships, in a way that works for them, maybe for the first time.

It is these people, from whom we rarely look to for advice, who have already been where we are now. They have experience with difficulty and trauma and distress. The have suffered and have learned to persevere and discover meaning and joy and a new identity and way of life. Isn’t it ironic that we would need to look to the bottom, to the end of the line, to find succor?

This notion of suffering and difficulty or distress is a prominent component of most if not all teachings of heft. Jesus and Buddha say pretty much the same thing, that suffering is part of life, but our human birthright is to be able to traverse through it. For the shaman and the hero therefore, suffering is an indispensable part of their training. It is not to be avoided, nor is it to be sought out necessarily, but if and when it arrives it is to be welcomed and embraced.

Is it not an interesting point that none of our sages state categorically that suffering is bad? What is bad is chronic or unending suffering. That is what they describe as a hell of torment. So, what can the sufferers tell us that can help us with our present distress.

First, they are able to help us understand the essence of life. That life is an eternal cycle. Birth, maturation, death then repeat. That is the blueprint. Life is generative, restorative, and transformative. We know then that this situation, this form, whether good or bad or in between, will come to an end. We suffer when we confuse the form, that is the circumstance in which we find ourselves, for the energy and essence of which it symbolizes, and then as the form dissolves and dies we die and suffer, with it.

This is the truth that comes with experience. The sages say test it out, see if your life does not come back again, after a great loss or setback, in the same that you come back to yourself in the morning after entering into the dream world at night. So too will your vitality and identity and purpose and joy return after you let it go and bless its essence.

So, if the lesson is that life is constantly transitioning and realigning itself, we can learn to do the same as well. If our identity is as a teacher and we love education. It matters not the shape or manner in which the learning takes place but that it does. The same is true if we are a healer, or artist, or skilled craftsperson, or government official.

One great thing that is happening as we speak is that a lot of our identities or attachments are also now fading away. They served us well in their time, and we can be grateful for that, but now they are less useful. So nowadays we hear scant attention paid to political parties, or economic philosophies, or religious affiliation, or ethnic or racial identity, or even gender. We are all turning our attention to the essence or the essential or true. Yes, life involves suffering. And the quicker that we learn how to face it the better we will all be. And yes, for that we must turn our attention and respect and gratitude to those who have. Your thoughts, resonances, and dissonances are greatly appreciated. And let’s continue to take good care of ourselves!

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Reflections On The Coronavirus

Alvin Kevin Walton King. Image: Ehirim Files

BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING

THE WEEKLY ORACLE

I was hesitant to write some of my thoughts during this time of change and transition. The main reason is it seemed odd to me to offer my metaphysical musings as we are all looking for physical solutions. Food. Economic resources. Material comfort and the like. But I realize there is no time like the present to focus on what is important to us.

We are definitely doing this on a macro level. What is essential to human culture and society we are asking. Is this something I can do without. Then maybe it is a good time to begin to live a simple and more sustainable lifestyle.

At the micro level we can ask the same question. What is important to me. What gives my life meaning and joy and strength and vitality. And when we find the answer, we can then find the courage to make sure that we do those things. For what gives us joy is our gift not only to ourselves but to our world. And we are all the poorer without it.

But during trauma and crisis and times of transition it is hard to remember that love is essential. That joy is essential. That a smile is essential. That creativity is essential. You get the idea. The teacher said it this way “we can not live by bread alone….” That means that there is an intangible nature to life. Spiritual if you would. You can’t name it, but you know it when you experience it.

Trauma and crisis and transition bring our focus rightly to the material, but life is not only trauma and crisis and transition. The teacher has something to say about this as well when he offered ”that he came to give us life and life more abundantly.” The abundant life is the full life. Life in all its fecundity. Flourishing life. Life that beams in all seasons and at all times. So, during the harvest we sing songs of triumph and during a drought we shout the blues.

My other thought is about how this time of challenge will affect our emotional and mental and spiritual well-being. For some it will be exasperating, it will be one more inconvenience and difficulty and chaotic event thrust upon their already overwhelmed life. For others it will be like the polish rabbinic tale of the rabbi who advises his charge to bring his livestock in to his home when he complains that his home is chaotic and devoid of peace and quiet. We, like the man in the tale may experience a moment of liberation when we realize that the majority of our complaints, in the grand scheme of things, were of little consequence.

For the majority of us, however, we will find ourselves somewhere in the middle. And the blessing of this state is that we will now realize that we are a part of a vast continuum with stress and anxiety on the one end and liberation at the other. And with our eyes now open to this reality we may find that we are a part of an expansive and infinite world full of possibilities. May we all, especially at this time of challenge, experience the greatest of these possibilities.

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More Notes From The -Re World

Alvin Kevin Walton King

BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING

THE WEEKLY ORACLE

I just finished reading an article in the January 27th New Yorker Magazine this morning by Casey Cep about the history of slavery in Jamaica entitled The Long War Against Slavery. It is a review of Vincent Brown’s new book Tacky’s revolt: The Story Of An Atlantic Slave War. The major premise of the article and the book is that the abolition of slavery is due to the revolts and insurrections of the Africans who resisted slavery in Jamaica and not the legislative largesse of 19th century Britain. This new understanding is of great significance and holds great promise for us all.

The subtitle of the article is Revisiting the Slave Rebellions of Jamaica, which brings us to another musing on the machinations of Re. In this case it is revisiting. The word means to visit again. But it presupposes a later time than the initial visit or experience. And so, both the location of the visit and the visitor are no longer the same. In other words, a lot has changed since the initial visit. In this case one revisits from a different or new mindset.

Which got me to thinking about our own story. For we hear a great deal about revisionist history, here is our great sage Aunt Re again, and in this case the word means to see again or to understand again which in essence means to have a different experience. And in our case and our story it means to have a different experience of ourselves. You see there is limitless potential and possibility in the world of Re.

This definitely relates to my work as a psychotherapist. I think a lot of folks coming to therapy want help with their story, not their screen play, but their understanding and experience of their life. They come to counseling or the initial visit without a real Re, but with their initial vision or understanding or experience. So, they relate their story and the dilemma that it contains. But this telling is usually a continuation of the original telling. Its like when we used to have records and when you played a song you liked it would get scratched and then get stuck playing the same groove, some folks got smart however and placed a coin on the needle to avoid the situation altogether.

But what if we all could revisit our story from a different place. In the first instance or edition we were limited by the experience and our experience. Maybe we were the victim. Maybe we were the villain. Maybe we were the innocent child. An inscrutable curiosity will help you get closer to the realm of Re. For instance, what role did you play or do you gravitate to in your story. You can tell by how the telling makes you feel. Do you feel lower, higher, grounded, anxious, depressed?

In a traumatic or even a transcendent experience for that matter, it is extremely difficult, but not impossible to stay with the present experience. In the former, our sensing and feeling bodies are overwhelmed and we resort to our thinking body where in the latter, if we are able, we can move beyond our isolated self altogether. The traumatic experience carries us back further and further behind the time of our initial story and our self in a kind of regression. We become consumed with thoughts such as why did this happen to me. Or why do I feel so terrible.

But if we could revisit our story from our highest self or whole self, would that not be what the teacher and other sages refers to as a rebirth. This is how we enter the realm of Re – the world of the twice born. Where we come into contact with our truth or our true self and trust that it will prepare a place for all our parts and experiences to come together for our benefit and in a way that will also be beneficial for us all.

With the help of Re, we can choose to revisit our story and life at any time and from any vantage point that is appropriate and most helpful. We can realize that all our life up till now has made us stronger, braver, richer, wiser, and kinder. We will be amazed at what we have accomplished and where we have traversed. We will see the miracle that we are and have the faith to make room for those still yet to come.

So, what then is the work of Re, she helps us to give shape to our life, and like a potter or master composer, this shape begins to make a space for meaning. Often this shaping and meaning making becomes generative and hosts multiple shapes and meanings. And through this shaping and meaning making, we begin to notice our true self. We are the place where consciousness resides. This is the work of Re.

Yes Re is an indispensable element of our life experience, and with the Easter season approaching may she help us all to remember that she is at this very moment preparing for our unique resurrection, now that is a Re I cannot live without, can I get a witness.


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Our History Month: El Mentiroso

Alvin Kevin Walton King. Image: Ehirim Files


BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING
THE WEEKLY ORACLE

There once was a very powerful and great country, where the people were beautiful. Many loved to say it was the greatest country to have ever existed. They were strong and talented and incredibly smart. They said that they could do things that had never been done before. They had beautiful houses also, and beautiful cars. They made machines and all types of fancy gadgets. They excelled at almost every human endeavor, and the world over, everyone's greatest desire was to move to this land.

But there was one curious thing about this country and the people in it. Curious because on the outside they looked fine. They ate food like other people and played games like other people. They lived in houses like others. They also grew gardens and had pets. They had birthday celebrations. They married and had children.

But there was still something very strange, and this strange discovery happened when one of the inhabitants of the land went abroad for a vacation. She was playing at the beach when she saw one of the natives drown in the ocean. She saw all the people of that land come together and moan and wail in sadness and suddenly, without warning, she fainted. When she could not be revived the people took her to a healer, and it was there that this curious discovery was made.

Upon examination, the healer discovered that the woman, though she was to all appearances quite healthy and strong and even beautiful, was empty on the inside. He did not mean that she had no internal organs. No heart or kidney or blood or bones.

No, it wasn't that she did not have a literal heart, but she had no heart, no soul, and no spirit. There was nothing inside of her. No values or beliefs, and worse no story. She was a beautiful shell, like a mannequin; as such, you could touch her or poke or prod her and get no response. You could test her and examine her, but she felt no pain, nothing.

For everyone knows that healers can perceive the presence and character of a heart, soul, and spirit by witnessing the breath as it flows In and out. At the pause between the two breaths, the healers say the heart, soul, and spirit announce its name. And so, during this particular diagnosis they waited for the pause, for it is during this pause that the malady and its remedy also reveal themselves. But at that precise moment in this case there was nothing. And after several rounds of inspection the healers announced the prognosis of heartlessness, soullessness, and the absence of a spirit.

And then just as strangely as she had fainted she came back to life. But by then the word had spread throughout the land about the strange woman with no heart, soul, or spirit; and because the people had never seen this before they did not know how to tell the woman of her diagnosis and so they sent her on her way.

This happened some years ago. and the natives went back to their normal life and the woman went back to her home.

But there was one curious native, an oracle, who wanted to find out how this could happen. Was she an anomaly or was there an entire country of heartless and soulless people, who also had no spirit. So, he traveled to her distant land to get a better understanding.

When he arrived, he saw that everyone there was big and strong and beautiful like the lady who fainted. And so, he asked around to discover the history of this great land.

He found out that the people of the land had not always lived in this country but had traveled there from the east. And having come west they discovered the land’s native inhabitants there living in a way that the newcomers thought very strange. But nonetheless the land was full of animals and birds and plants and mountains and streams. It was a paradise and it was not too long before the newcomers wrested the land from its native inhabitants. And it became their land. And they gave the land a new name and treated the natives worse than savages.

“Ah’” thought the oracle, “this is when they lost their heart. For anyone who could do such a thing could certainly not have a heart.” And now he was even more curious to find out the story of this heartless land. Then he discovered that the people had not built this land alone but no, they had traveled to a distant dark place and kidnapped scores of people to come and work and plant their fields, and build their roads and houses, and make their clothes and take care of their children. “Ah,” he said “that is when they lost their soul. For no one with a soul could ever do such a thing.”

And he looked around at the country and saw their big beautiful buildings and powerful gadgets and devices, and he said to himself “they have become all powerful.” But he had a feeling that there was still more to learn about this heartless and soulless land. And walking a little further he saw a sick man on the street, and then a dirty child, and a hungry family and he asked, “how are you living in a land of plenty left in such a condition.” And the people answered, “we are poor, and the owners of the land no longer see us. We don't matter to them any longer as we cannot be of service to them. For they have machines to do the work that we used to do and so they don't care for us.” “Ah,” he said “this is how they lost their spirit. For no one with a spirit could do such a thing.”

The oracle thought to himself “someone must have bewitched these people to make them think that land and houses and wealth are more valuable than their own heart, soul, or spirit. A very powerful deceitful enemy must have done this and if we don't discover him he may deceive us as well.”

So, he traveled home and told his findings and story. At first no one believed him, but when they remembered the strange condition of the woman who fainted, an old wise woman said “oh yes this is the work of El Mentiroso, The Liar, I used to hear stories about this deceiver when I was a child and how he had destroyed entire villages until one day he was defeated and banished. He must’ve made his way to the land of this poor woman. But what can we do to defeat him now.”

And they thought how can one put a heart, soul, and spirit into an adult. “For it had never been done before” cried the old wise woman. And they were all amazed the people of that land were able to live while empty inside. “They must get their power from El Mentiroso,” they thought.” For he has ensnared them in an evil bargain.” The old wise woman said, “we must find a way to plant a heart, soul, and spirit in an adult and hope it grows.” The next morning at the council it was decided that the only solution was for each adult to give a little of their heart, soul, and spirit and the oracle would be sent back to the country to plant them in the people of the land.

For it was such a dangerous mission and doomed to fail many thought because the people would either reject the gift or turn on its bearer so only one of their number could be sacrificed for the task. And after a week of prayers and singing and ceremonies the oracle was sent on his voyage.

Upon arriving, he first looked for the woman who had started the whole ordeal. For he thought she would be easiest to persuade. It didn’t take long either and the next day he saw her coming toward him. Straight away she said” I dreamed of this day that you would come and save me and give me a heart, soul, and spirit. For I have been restless ever since I returned home.”

After he told her the entire story and of his mission they quickly realized that they would have to face El Mentiroso, for he would not take kindly to the theft of his people. But first they spread the gift of heart, soul, and spirit to all her friends and their friends and their friends’ friends. And to their astonishment, the transplant worked, and the heart, soul, and spirit started to grow. But one day El Mentiroso sent his emissaries telling the pair to cease and desist or they would surely be destroyed. But not only them, but all who have this gift. But they protested, “do what you must, for we have left fear and vengeance long ago.” And they continued their work.

El Mentiroso was true to his word, but the first martyrs, however only made the gift more popular and the word spread across the land. And the people tried to rebel against El Mentiroso, but he reminded them of their bargain “that your land and houses and wealth belong to me. Only if you decide to be poor and weak can you be free of me.” That night they all knew what they must do. Relinquish their land and their homes and wealth to El Mentiroso and return to the land of the oracle who had freed them. The next morning before dawn all who had received the gift took to the sea in any vessel they could find, and they set sail. But El Mentiroso who never keeps an agreement gave chase.

When the people of the land of the oracle saw El Mentiroso striding across the sea, the leaders instructed the people to dig a trough at the edge of the sea to capture the beast. And when the ships docked, and the refugees had landed safely, El Mentiroso followed in hot pursuit, but right as he was to step on their land he stepped into the trough and immediately the people covered the trough with a huge rock. All the people celebrated because they were finally free of the beast. But every so often a huge earthquake shook the land and the trees, and the birds flew, and the people remembered, that El Mentiroso, though ensnared lived among them.

Questions For The Journey

How is your heart, soul, spirit – that is how is your inner life and world? What do they mean to you and what is their message? Have you ever felt empty on the inside? Can you share that experience of emptiness? What do you think caused it? How did it effect your relationship with others, yourself, and your world? How have you worked with this emptiness? What have you been able to create as a result? In the story with whom do you relate and how? What is your unique question you want to walk with today?

FOR KOBE: There Is A Rock

BY ALVIN KEVIN WALTON KING

The Weekly Oracle

There is so much violence that our young people are facing in every corner of our world. And for many young people the only time that their story is told is during a funeral. I wonder how much different our lives would be how much richer, if young could people could tell their story while yet alive. There is also a legend of a certain people in New Zealand who are able to communicate with rocks. If that is true maybe we can learn to communicate with our children.

There is a land, full of young people, young men, and full of violence. The violence of war, the violence of the people, the violence of the land. And young men rarely reach adulthood or elder-hood. In this land there seemed to be so many funerals and ceremonies for dead young men. And at the funerals we hear crying and stories of bravery and hope and love. And this is the experience of this land. This colored the music and food and family of the land. Everywhere in the news or gossip the conversation is about the young men.

And no one knew what could be done for the mothers’ cries and fathers’ depression and the wives’ sorrow. But the land began to hear and feel and respond. For their existed a mysterious relationship between the people and the land. A kind of call and response. So that when the people acted the land responded. And when the people of the land cried the land heard their cry. And for a moment the trees and birds and rocks and all life shone brilliantly, for the land sensed the tender heart of the people. But the new life was unsustainable and could not flourish for the people had not yet learned the value of all life especially the grounding and life sustaining power of grief. And so everything started to fade and age and become weak. The leaves turned brown and flowers wilted and the old men and old women became gravely ill. And there were no blossoms or new fruit or young calves. And the rain no longer fell.

And all the leaders of the land came together for a consultation to see what could be done. And all the reports were the same. Death was creeping over the land. And the wise women and men could not find a solution. To stall death. To deter decay. To stop the violence. And when someone thought to bring a young man into the consultation violence and decay only descended on the ceremony.

And one morning a young boy about the age of 15 was walking along a lane and he saw a rock. This rock seemed to call out to him and speak his name. He looked around but no one else seemed to hear the call. And he stooped down and picked up the rock. And as soon as he touched the rock he heard a story. A story that was compelling. A story of war and violence and bravery. A story of heartbreak and sadness. He heard the entire history of the land. And the more he heard the more he changed and soon the boy became a man.

And when the leaders and kings and parents called another consultation the young man happened to be passing by and went in to the meeting. No one saw him enter but as soon as he entered the meeting was transformed. And everyone in the room began to hear the same story. And the frustration and depression and anxiety and anger disappeared. And no one said a word. Until the new man stood up and told the story of the rock. And he led all the people to the place where he found the rock. And then an old man heard his name and he saw his rock, and then the leader of the consultation heard his name come from the rock in front of him. And everyone found their rock and their story in their rock.

And the violence lessened and eventually ceased. And the death and decay ended. And new blossoms appeared. And the members of the consultation told their friends and family about the rock and everyone went to the place and there heard their story and found their rock. And families became loving and peaceful. And in every region everyone had their story contained in their rock.

And all was peaceful and the people played music and sang songs and enjoyed food and celebrated. There were marriages and baby naming celebrations. And at one of the celebrations when everyone had their rock and their story a young man entered who did not have a rock. At first he was invisible to the throng. But he did not notice for he was listening to his own story, it did not come from a rock however, it came from within his own being. And at these gatherings it was customary that whoever desired could stand up and speak from their rock. And the young man stood up to take his turn. But as he had no rock no one paid him any attention, they ignored him and his story. For the people did not understand the life negating force of neglect and rejection. For rejection and neglect not only destroy stories but the people and their land as well.

Later that evening a familiar strangeness was in the air. Decay returned. And so did death. It began as it had started with youth violence. And soon people were going back to the rock trail to retrieve more rocks but now the rocks no longer spoke. They were silent and confusion and sorrow again covered the land. But the young man who had his story within him grew stronger and stronger.

For the land had become silent. Without a song. And without a story. And without wisdom. And when the young man was seen in town speaking all supposed that he was mad, talking to himself. Later that evening when the young man was eating his meal on the street. A young lady overheard him and her curiosity got the best of her and she inquired of the young man’s strange behavior. He intoned his story to her which mesmerized her. She wondered if she too could possess this strange magic, the ability to possess one’s story in their own being. She learned to hear her own story and then to tell the tale.

The two of them went to her friend with this special ability of hearing and sharing one’s story. And whoever learned how was immediately transformed. And they traveled on from friend to friend passing on the power of one’s story. They eventually arrived again at the consultation of kings and parents and the powerful. They did not need to announce their presence for those assembled could see a glow and heard the singing of a new song. And immediately the powerful were disarmed and began hearing their own stories in their own language, and weeping ensued, but not the weeping of desolation and despair but of a cathartic love that was born of understanding.

And the land was happy again. And the sky was content. And the birds made new acquaintances. And the rocks cried out.

Through storytelling, poetry, singing, dancing, preaching, and facilitating spaces and times of cultural wellness, Alan Kevin Walton King creates a space for love. Bringing together his experience and training as a religious minister; along with training and performing with Griots and professional artists in Senegal, Mali, and the Gambia; his work in Post-Katrina New Orleans as a community organizer, a whole-hearted participant in second line dance performances, and as a preacher in communities looking to rediscover their vision; and most recently working as a psychotherapist and healer. Walton King Lives in Los Angeles

Alan Kevin Walton King: oracleforthepeople@gmail.com
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The Love Ceremony

Alan Kevin Walton King. (Ehirim File Images)

BY ALAN KEVIN WALTON KING


There is a grand ceremony that takes place in the Five Lands. Whose origin and nature have been hidden, that is until now. It is the ceremony of ceremonies, that I have the privilege of setting before you now. There is a blessing that accompanies the ceremony, to those that hear it, tell it, and participate in it.

For each year after the harvest the Five Lands come together to celebrate the Love Ceremony. It is the oldest and greatest and most anticipated ceremony of the year. Greater than the initiation ceremony where the boys and girls on the cusp of adulthood leave behind the vestiges of childhood and attain the full privileges and responsibility that accompanies their new status as full citizens of the village. Greater even than the wedding ceremony where two individuals come together in love to start a new tribe. Or even the ceremony that takes place after one has constructed a new home, or the ceremony that occurs when a village has been victorious in battle. Greater even than the ceremony after the first rains of the year, or the wonderful harvest ceremony, or even the ceremony after a child is born. Or the ceremony at the time of death when one transcends the material realm and becomes an ancestor.

The love ceremony is supreme because the Five lands that make up our realm, the mountains, the desert, the forest, the plains, and the waters come together to celebrate love in all its healing, creative, and joyous forms.

For before the Love Ceremony the Five Lands were sworn enemies. And the conflict became so great that all the lands were on the verge of catastrophe and extinction. But before the point of no return, each of the lands at the same time and without knowing their enemies were doing the same thing, sent one emissary to ask for peace or else become a sacrifice, for they knew not which.

But instead of a sacrifice each land was ready for peace. For by this time those who were feuding were advanced in age and saw the toll that the conflict had had on their lives. They did not want their children to face the same fate. And so, in honor of the Five Brave Heroes, the Love Ceremony was established.

So, after the harvest when the weather is still warm, before the winter and while the hearts and bodies of the people are still glad the Five Lands celebrate their love.

One village brings the Meal of Love, another the Song of Love, still another the Story of Love, another the Ritual of Love, and the last the Game of Love.

This year it was the Land of The Mountains turn to host the ceremony and to prepare the Meal of Love. And so as is tradition two are selected to gather the ingredients for the Meal of Love. A boy and a girl at the age of adulthood.

And so early the next morning they went out to the surrounding villages to collect the ingredients which would become the Meal of Love of the Love Ceremony.

And when they came to the first village the villagers said our ingredients are bitter because our love has been difficult this year. And they gave them bitter herbs. When they came to the second village, they said our ingredients are fatty because our love has been abundant this year. And they gave them fat young calves. When they came to the third village, they said our ingredients are salty because our love has healed us this year and they gave them all manner of salt and spices. The fourth village said our ingredients are sweet for our love has flowed easily this year and they gave them fruit of every kind. At the fifth village they said our ingredients are healthy for our love has sustained us this year and they gave them all kinds of vegetables and leafy greens. And so, did each village give ingredients according to the character of love that year.

At the end of their journey they brought all the ingredients back for the Love Meal. And all of the inhabitants of the Land of The Mountain worked together to prepare the greatest love meal that they could.

Everyone was glad to help and on the day of the Love Ceremony, before the sun broke through the dark night you could smell the aroma of love winding its way through the mountain villages.

And before long the Land of The Desert approached and you could hear the song of love “love is here” they sang, “yes our love is here.” And as they heard the Song of Love the children started to dance. And so, during the year whenever one was downtrodden or grief stricken, they could sing the Song of Love and so restore their love and joy.

Next the Land of The Water came with the Game of Love and the children gathered to learn the new game. And as they played you could hear the sound of laughter all around. So that whenever one was disappointed, they could remember that our very lives are the Game of Love that we play and love never disappoints for long.

Then the Land of The Forest came with the Story of Love and they went to each person and family one by one, and they taught them the Story of Love and the origin of The Love Celebration. And so whenever one was confused or hurting, they could remember and recite the Story of Love and experience refreshing and renewal rather than resort to conflict.

And after the sun crossed the sky everyone gathered for the Meal of Love. The Land of The Mountain villages and The Land of The Desert villages and The Land of The Water villages and The Land of The Plains villages and The Land of The Forest villages. And everyone was happy and full of love. And whenever anyone was tempted by bitterness or resentment or hatred, they would remember the Meal of Love that they shared at the Love Ceremony and their very bodies would be full of love once again.

And after the Love Meal it was time for the Ritual of Love. And all the villages sat in a circle as the Land of The Plains’ villages conducted the Love Ritual. During the ritual each person and each land and each village looked inside to see their love if it was well and whole or ill. And each put their love in the center of the circle and waited for their collective love to grow. For if it did then their individual love and village love would do the same. And if it did grow, they wondered what it might become.

And that night as they all sat in the circle life began to sprout in their midst. First a green shoot, then a stalk, and finally a branch. As night turned to day, they could see that a gorgeous Tree of Love was growing. And as the dawn approached, an elder from each village proclaimed a blessing of love upon the Five Lands. That as long as the Tree of Love grew so too would the love in their land.

And you too my children of love as long as you see life around you, know that love dwells within you as well.

Questions for The Journey

What is the flavor of your love? How is the love inside you is it whole or ill? How do you maintain your love? How do you heal your love? With whom do you share your love? How do you experience love? How do you express your love? How do feel and know that you are loved? How do you address the need for love in you and your world? What question do you want to walk with this day?



Through storytelling, poetry, singing, dancing, preaching, and facilitating spaces and times of cultural wellness, Alan Kevin Walton King creates a space for love. Bringing together his experience and training as a religious minister; along with training and performing with Griots and professional artists in Senegal, Mali, and the Gambia; his work in Post-Katrina New Orleans as a community organizer, a whole-hearted participant in second line dance performances, and as a preacher in communities looking to rediscover their vision; and most recently working as a psychotherapist and healer. Walton King Lives in Los Angeles

Alan Kevin Walton King: oracleforthepeople@gmail.com