by NalaWalla | May 31, 2023 | animism, ceremony, conscious collapse, food activism, liberation practice, ritual
You might be wondering why I am posting a photo of a refrigerator? For those of you that know us, until now have stubbornly LIVED WITHOUT A FRIDGE FOR NEARLY 25 YEARS! Can I get a WITNESS?! Let me ask you: do you know anyone in North America (or any...
by NalaWalla | Apr 23, 2023 | griefwork, liberation practice
ARE THE TONE POLICE THE MODERN VERSION OF THE THOUGHT POLICE?The weaponization of NVC is a topic I’ve been wanting to broach for, I dunno, probably twenty years already. When I grew up, I’d heard the stories about the dreaded “thought police”...
by NalaWalla | Oct 26, 2022 | ancestors, ancestral healing, ancestral nutrition, food activism, liberation practice, lineage repair, ritual skills
The daylight is fast waning, the leaves are swirling and dropping, chill winds are carrying the howls of the wild. After a long growing season of flower and fruit, our attention now turns towards the annual cycle of death and renewal. Many cultures...
by NalaWalla | Mar 12, 2019 | ancestors, griefwork, liberation practice, Uncategorized
“Time is constantly running out, it seems. Seeking solutions leads to the discovery of new problems I cannot unknow. I miss the days of elementary school when it felt that just giving enough fucks was enough to move mountains, to feel that success was...
by NalaWalla | Jan 24, 2019 | ancestors, ancestral nutrition, liberation practice, lineage repair
“These taste even better now than they did in the summer!” remarks my son Montana, as he licks a frozen popsicle on this clear January day. Indeed. In the dead of winter, our bodies are longing for scarce fresh vitamins and antioxidants, so...
by NalaWalla | Jul 7, 2018 | ancestors, liberation practice, poems
BONES the architectures of our inheritance are dancing us. Though we may walk deafened through the noisy fray, searching the blather of strangers for a clue. Though wrapped in gortex, we get wet Though stuffed with fois gras, still we hunger Our eyeballs drowned in...
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