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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Welcome to the integral states of up and becoming polypathologists, tautologically deep MindSense/BodyFeel ecologists listening graceful co-mentors before gratefully speaking eco-woke up and wiki out evolutionaries. Past Yang political Angers recreate Future Yin-Fear of hated economic decomposition, recession, depression, etc.... Co-Arising Past Yang-Truths recreating Future Yin-Integrity of WinWin healthy inter-religioning AnthroPassion/EarthPleasure regenerativity. Let us check our polypathic receptors together. What do monocultures smell like to you? Like encroaching death maybe? What about monopoly of ownership and power? Smells too hot-humid-sweaty overpowering for me. And, not that fresh sweat either. That old dried-in rank building up inside some dark closed airless locked up claustrophobic silo of uncirculating fat deposits for months without acknowledged constipation issues. What about monochromatic? Like black death racing through supremacist skin and gut-burning ethno-arrogant fire. OK then, now to brighter options. What does polyculture smell like to you? Like rich fertile soil under sweet wildflower meadows surrounded by lavender bushes and wild cherries in my mouth and on blueberried hands, while gleefully stomping grapes into wine that smells as passionately pleasing as maple's re-springing sap. How about polymorphic fragrances? Green grasses and wooded forests of trees, yet also bloody metallic-boned noses for surf rising seas in warming seasons with an emergent whiff of over-fed farty asses. Hmmm. Polyhedral? Fragrant fractal fusions of surfing saltwater on a warm sunny day with a cool pacific breeze caressing my nose and eyes and ears and atlantic hair, noticing clouded cathedral horizons yet also other seasonable opportunities, reasonable dialectical dipolarity, the equivo-ambivalent center of surf Yang Inhale with Yin Stretching Out concave exfailing polyculturing integrity... Like a fairly good day at the beauty beach? No, that's the smell of polypathy, total genius smells like money that's been sea-salt stored in a very special place by a very special someone, wanting to invest totally in me, each Other, and Earth's full Tribal health. Polypaths smell like healthy cooperative wealth. To me, anyway. How 'bout reviving you?
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