Community of PACK Life – Teopixqui Dez

Tag: love

  • The Momentum of Kindness

    We can create an unstoppable force: the momentum of kindness.

    A single word, a small act, even a brief glance of understanding can change the shape of someone’s day. We know this because we have all felt its opposite. A careless insult, a look of dismissal, or a moment of cruelty can unravel something inside a person. Sometimes it is enough to ruin a day. Sometimes it lingers for weeks, or even years. Small things are never truly small. Every action leaves a mark.

    When we talk about personifying our faith, about becoming the living expression of what we believe, this is where the work begins. Kindness is not abstract. It moves. It carries weight. When we choose even one moment of kindness with full awareness, we set something in motion that lives beyond that moment. Not every seed will bloom where we can see it. But every seed still changes the ground where it falls.

    In our Community, we hold that the Universe Provides. But provision is only half of the relationship. Action is the other half. Kindness is one of the clearest ways we engage with the world. We are not asked to fix everything. We are asked to create momentum. One gesture. One word. One presence that says, without force, “I see you.”

    Kindness does not guarantee comfort. To be kind is to risk being misunderstood. Some kindness will be rejected. Some will be mocked. That does not change the value of the act. The worth of kindness is not measured by its reception. It is measured by its offering. Momentum does not ask permission. It only asks that we move.

    We know cruelty moves quickly. We know how little it takes to undo a sense of safety. But if cruelty can ripple outward, so can care. Choosing kindness when it would be easier to be silent or cold is not weakness. It is a deliberate act of power. It is faith moving through action.

    Today, remember that you carry that force. The look you offer. The word you choose. The patience you extend. Each action plants something into the world. You do not need to know how it will grow. Move kindness forward because it matters. Move it forward because someone, somewhere, may find their strength because you chose to use yours.

  • Revelry is Sacred

    We talk a lot about stillness in spiritual spaces.

    Reflection. Meditation. Solitude.

    And those things are beautiful. Necessary, even. But connection does not always come in silence.

    Sometimes, it comes when we gather.

    When we dance. When we laugh, cry, sing, or trip.
    Not for the sake of escape, but because something powerful happens when we allow joy to bring us together.

    That is Revelry, and it is sacred.

    In some cultures, dance is the highest form of prayer.

    In others, breath shared in rhythm is enough to call in the divine. We see this sacred movement around the world.

    In the spinning bodies of the Sufi dervishes.
    In the fire-filled harmonies of gospel choirs.
    In the shaking rituals of the San.
    In the trance chants of the Bwiti.
    Even in the playful silence of a room full of people painting while mushrooms bloom in their bloodstream.

    These are not accidents. They are invitations.

    Revelry does not require belief. It requires presence.

    It does not demand doctrine. It asks for participation.

    It invites us to be seen, not only in our stillness, but in our motion.

    In the joy. In the sound. In the sacred chaos of togetherness.

    Revelry reminds us that healing does not always look like peace and quiet.
    Sometimes it looks like wild color.
    Sometimes it sounds like laughter echoing under stars.
    Sometimes it feels like falling into rhythm with strangers who no longer feel like strangers.

    So ask yourself.
    What does it look like when you connect through joy?
    When was the last time your spirit opened, not through contemplation, but through celebration?

    And how can you bring more of that into your life?

    Because the Universe does not only speak in whispers.
    Sometimes, it sings.

  • Learning from Yesterday – Living in Today – Planning for Tomorrow

    We talk a lot about presence. About breathing into the moment, being here now, not letting the past or the future steal what’s in front of us. And that’s real. Presence is powerful. It’s what allows us to taste the meal, feel the hug, hear the music fully instead of just registering that it happened. But I think we forget something just as important: we can live in the now and still plan for the later. One doesn’t cancel the other out.

    Too many people fall into the trap of choosing sides. Either they chase the moment like it’s the only thing that matters – impulsive, wild, reactive – or they grip the future so tightly they miss everything unfolding around them. And when you live at either extreme, you end up hollow. One leaves you scattered. The other leaves you frozen.

    The truth is, life isn’t either/or. It’s both/and. We’re meant to revel in the present while also planting seeds for the future. That’s not a contradiction: it’s balance.

    I’ve seen what happens when someone lives only for the next high, the next hit of inspiration, the next moment of beauty. It’s exhilarating, until it isn’t. Until the rent’s late or the body breaks down or the community drifts because no one built structure around the love. And I’ve seen what happens when someone builds a five-year plan with military precision but forgets to look up and laugh. They might hit every milestone, but they never feel alive in it. Just tired. Just chasing.

    What I’ve learned, and what we try to practice in our Community, is that the Universe gives us kairos, not just chronos. Opportune moments, not just chronological time. But to even see a moment of kairos when it arrives, we have to be awake and ready. Presence teaches us to see. Planning teaches us to act.

    So when do we gather? When do we build – when do we dream? We do it in unison. We eat the fruit of now and we save the seeds. We don’t call it rigid structure; we call it intention. We don’t call it reckless freedom; we call it surrender. Because it’s not about controlling everything. It’s about being ready for what the Universe is trying to hand you.

    So breathe. Be here. Laugh when it’s funny. Cry when it’s real. And then sit with your calendar, your sketchpad, your blueprint, and dare to plan for a future worth walking into.

    We don’t need to pick a side. We need to dance between them.

    The Universe Provides.
    And We Revel Within.