The buffoon king of Me-me-me sits today on the throne, and his finger points at the dark mountain of sand and bones.
His wall is not meant to contain immigration. It is meant to contain new ideas, ideas that will redefine the entire meaning of being human. They are not political, religious, racial, ideological, economic, technological, social, national, or tribal ideas –which have proven useless on their own and brought mankind to the edge of the abyss–.
They are not about me-me-me.
They have to do with women and men facing the unknown together, with our relationship with Earth, with our unique awareness. They are not recent ideas. They are very, very old; and yet they are always new.
They belong to every human being on Earth. They are our most precious legacy, our birthright. And they sleep in somewhere in Mexico –not the country, but the land–, like a coiled dragon that will wake up when called upon and shake the entire world with a flick of its tail, with a brush of its wings.
They are the only ideas that don’t enslave us, that will set us free.
The wall is already there. It was built with something far more resilient than concrete and steel. Its bricks are our beliefs, which are not even ours. And the mortar that glues them together is our allowing them to constrain us, our stubborn feeling that they define who we are.
But haven’t you always felt that you can actually go through walls, that you can actually fly?
The wall is the king. Break the wall and you will break the king.
Remember this: Break the wall and you will break the king.
Only dragons fly over walls.
I will whisper a dragon in your ear:
Here, take this dragon and let it fly.