you are being woven
🌱 Step 1: Drop It Like It's Not Yours
Find a place to stand. Let your body be slightly awkward. Bounce. Sigh. Pretend you’re a tree that doesn’t know small talk.
Take three deep breaths. Walk ten steps with intention. As if each one is a stitch in a quilt made by the ancestors who refuse to be ignored.
🫀 Step 2: Lie Down and Give Up (the Illusion of Separateness)
Get comfy. Floor, ground, moss, rug—your choice.
Close your eyes gently.
Call this a holy sprawl.
You’re not relaxing.
You’re re-minding.
🧶 Step 3: Meet the Threads
Imagine filaments—weightless, wriggling, woven light.
Red for your beloveds.
Orange for the people who make your jaw clench.
Yellow for mammals.
Green for plants.
Blue for water.
Brown for poop and fungi and glorious decay.
Gray for tech and trash and tools.
Violet for the unseen.
Purple for the more-than-human bosses.
They reach from your body, outward, backward, forward. You are not the center. You are part of the pattern. Don’t get cute about it. Just breathe.
Step 4: Smell the Threads, Baby
Think of someone you love. Someone you avoid.
A wolf. A mushroom. A broken phone.
Let their thread glow and twitch.
You don’t have to understand this. You just have to stop pretending you’re separate.
🧬 Step 5: Notice What Wiggles in You
Where in your body are these threads most alive?
Is your belly humming?
Is your spine remembering an ancient scream?
Is your pinky toe vibrating with regret?
Good. That’s aliveness. That’s connection. That’s you getting re-woven.
🔮 Step 6: Let the Impossibility Do the Work
No, you can’t imagine every being you’re connected to.
That’s the point.
Let your heart do what the brain can’t.
Trust the invisible to do the impossible.
This is the original internet, baby.
🌍 Step 7: Reopen Without Explanation
Feel the whole colorful, contradictory web.
The war. The wonder. The ancestors. The landfill.
It’s all part of the loom.
You are not weaving it alone.
You are being woven.
👣 Step 8: Walk Back Like a Prayer in Motion
Open your eyes. Stand up.
Walk back to where you started.
Each step is an act of relational rebellion.
You walk in entanglement.
With humans. With shit. With ghosts.
With the tools that harm and the fungi that heal.
🙏 Step 9: Say Thanks Without Apology
Thank the Land. Thank your breath. Thank your tangled-ass lineage.
Not performatively.
Just like someone who knows they’re lucky to have a body today.
💬 Step 10: Optional Whisper Spell
Say to yourself:
“I am not alone.
I never was.
Even when I act like a jackass—
I am being woven.”