Where the Wind Doesn’t Choose Sides

April, Year of the Blooming Divide

Today, I watched the wind move through the garden, and it reminded me of something simple and profound:

The wind doesn’t choose sides.
It carries seeds.
It brings change.
It listens to the earth and moves accordingly.

And I thought—what if we could do the same?

There’s been talk again—loud talk, sharp talk. Movements forming, protests being organized. Words shouted not always from clarity, but from exhaustion. And I understand that exhaustion. I carry it too.
But what I don’t carry anymore is the weight of taking sides that forget their humanity. Violence instead of change.

In the Grove, we don’t argue in circles.
We ask.
We listen.
We sit in silence long enough to hear what isn’t being said out loud.

People want answers so badly right now, they’re willing to accept shouting as wisdom and manipulation as meaning. I’ve learned the hard way: noise isn’t the same as truth.

In Essence Grove, we don’t make space for fear-based politics. Not because we ignore what’s happening in the world, but because we believe what’s happening inside of us matters too. When we’re not okay, we’re easier to control. Easier to divide. Easier to pit against each other like our neighbors are the problem instead of the systems that benefit from our disconnection.

So today, I chose to write this.
Not for the headlines.
Not for the arguments.
But for the girl kneeling in the moss.
For the elder sweeping petals with her shawl.
For the boy who stopped believing in good news.

We may not be able to change the world today,
but we can stop it from changing us into something we’re not.

In the Grove, we keep our hands open.
We hold truth softly.
We know the answers don’t always come quickly.
But when they do, they feel like a bloom breaking open.

Until then… we stay rooted.

— Aunt C’Anna 🌹