A Warning from Aluna

It has been quite a long time since we were last in touch. It’s not that I’ve forgotten you; rather, it is the oblivion that comes with freedom. It’s a strange happiness that evolves by being far away. Yet, the darkness of the night hunts my dreams and I don’t know why.

I woke up early this morning. Perhaps I haven’t slept well these past days, though the reason remains unknown. I feel an eager impulse to express myself in the first person, yet it’s not an easy task for me nowadays, even when it’s to remind myself of you. I must outwardly express a bitter truth, something that has been mumbling inside me for the last few years. I don’t know if you could’ve understood me in this moment. I don’t know if my reality would’ve been accepted, but I’ve lost many close friends and peers for what I’m about to say.

We’re approaching your eleventh anniversary of your death. You’ve become a thought, a memory, a monument; nevertheless, you’re also a reminder of why I’m still alive in this world. I remember the dreams we discussed during my youth while playing with the Earth globe that I had in the night table next to my bed; I remember the passion to “become somebody” by doing whatever I want, but “always be the best”, phrase I now find impossible to embrace. Hence, I feel I was born into an invisible cage where my silent screams were unheard. There was, and still is, a quest to understand your role in the life of your offspring. Was it to overprotect us? Was it to pass down your deepest fears? Or was it to continue a dark social pattern from which you couldn’t escape? I’m keen to acknowledge all of this, not to judge you, but to form a comprehensive thought.

I will try to understand my questions by referring to a group of humans who existed long before the arrival of our Western ancestors. I might find answers in them, and perhaps, afterward, I can finally sleep in peace. They call themselves the Kogi, our Elder Brothers. They’re the guardians of the heart of the planet, dwelling on a beautiful peak: La Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, in the north of Colombia, where the wilderness coexists with human presence, and nothing is imposed or modify; it’s a realm of harmony.

They hold a strong belief that the whole comes from the Mother. She’s the darkness; the universe that created the colors. Her name is Aluna. Thanks to her, nature exists: the rivers, mountains, clouds, wildlife, even us. All is gathered by her, the great Nothingness. So here am I, returning my thought to you, to realize why you gave me birth in this mad world, recalling my deep desire to meet and explore our blue and green sphere.

I’ve been wandering the planet since you left us so abruptly. It was a horrific moment when you returned to that place where everything begins and ends. I witnessed your existence fading away, creating a feeling of powerlessness for those who were there, your inner circle. I deeply ponder now that our world has the same destiny. Some of us will reach the gap of a lifetime; others will perish halfway due to any circumstance. Needless to say, the end is nearer for all of us than we thought. Our own species, whose responsibility was to contemplate and guard the planet like our Elder Brothers, is doing the opposite on behalf of destructive illusions.

I wonder if you knew about this. I’ve never got the chance to ask you because at that time, eleven years ago or more, I didn’t possess this knowledge. I’m afraid it was hidden from us by the many conditionings that blinded our eyes and hearts.

During this pondering, I recall your education. It was full of fears and symbolic binding. I recall the endless effort to recite by heart whatever theory or belief was written in a book such the bible of our colonial history without questioning or grasping it. I recall the pursuit of a strange life devoid of art and awareness. I remember that what was deemed important was exactly what made us ill, inwardly and outwardly. I tried to convey all this to you, but you left suddenly. Thus, these words are to finally have a catharsis regarding your responsibility in our lives.

It's not your fault. Oh, no. I do not want to blame you for any human disgrace because I’m also accountable for my own path. I’ve been walking it step by step, re-educating myself: studying nature’s behavior, delving into the art of expression, and leaving behind every possession so freedom becomes a tangible reality.

The analogy with the Kogi is beautiful. Let me go a bit further here. They’ve an interesting representation of their Mother, just as I have of you. Aluna’s image is meant to be care; without her, nothing would be possible, not even you. Everything started with water, the same liquid that kept me alive inside of you for nine months; the same fluid that protects me from chemical alteration; the same tears that allow our plants to grow and feed us. It is a beautiful picture, isn’t it? And then, I always return to the same question: Why was this knowledge hidden from us? Was it because it was too important to maintain the status quo of our society?

When Aluna created us, human awareness thrived immediately toward wildlife. The Kogi understood that we’re part of the same natural cycle and that to disturb it’s a disastrous thing. Thus, they care deeply about the well-being of everything that surrounds them. There’s no need to modify anything: not to change the course of rivers, not to deforest our woods, not to kill animals for pleasure, not to disrupt plants for production, and not to kill each other in the name of invisible images. I finally understood this way of life, and it breaks my heart to think that everything I learned from my upbringing was the opposite. Why?

It’s again 4:00 am, I’m still having those questions, and a path to walk upon. Perhaps I will find again my dreams under the full moon. So, as the old saying goes, “It’s never too late to learn.” So here I am, closing a chapter of conditioning, making peace with you, my maker, so I can finally go to sleep. My presence on this beautiful planet is very simple, as it is for the rest of us mortals before we meet the nothingness again.