I want to show you something before you read another word.

This is a hand-painted sign photographed after a tornado moved through a community somewhere in America's heartland. The sign says four words:

Not pray for me. Not pray for the survivors. Not even pray for the victims.

Whoever painted that sign — in grief, in shock, in the immediate aftermath of everything familiar being rearranged by wind — by the forces of imbalance coming together with a gift of wisdom --- understood something that takes most of us years of living to arrive at:

A tornado is not chaos. That is the first misunderstanding.

A tornado is one of the most precisely organized structures in nature — a rotating column of air moving with mathematical consistency, following the same spiral geometry found in galaxies, in DNA, in the nautilus shell, in the arrangement of seeds in a sunflower. The Inner Worlds Outer Worlds documentary explores this in stunning detail — how the primordial spiral, from Fibonacci sequences to kundalini, from the hara to the Milky Way's arms, is the signature of one self-organizing intelligence expressing itself at every scale of creation simultaneously.

The vortex is not disorder. It is order at a scale the human nervous system finds difficult to receive.

What feels like destruction is, in the longer frame, reorganization. What feels like loss is, in the deeper pattern, the clearing that makes room for what comes next.

Every tradition that has ever helped a human being heal has understood this — that the storm and the stillness are not opposites. They are two expressions of the same source, moving in the same spiral, toward the same horizon.

The Lakota understanding of this is not abstract. It is ceremonial. The Medicine Wheel — the circle of the four directions, the four seasons, the four stages of life — holds both light and shadow, both summer and winter, both birth and death, as necessary expressions of one living whole. Remove the winter and the summer has no meaning. Remove the darkness and the light has nothing to illuminate.

That line came to me in a dream — the way all my songs come. And it took me years to understand what it was actually saying.

Nature's 4 Steps of Healing move in a circle: Balance, Harmony, Abundance, Peace.

Step One — Balance — asks for the honest reckoning. The willingness to stand in the storm and name what is actually happening, without looking away.

Step Two — Harmony — is where forgiveness lives.

Not forgiveness as a performance. Not forgiveness as the pretending that what happened did not happen, or that what was wrong was actually right. That is not forgiveness. That is spiritual bypassing, and it helps no one.

This is not easy to receive. I know that.

But consider the vortex. At the center of every tornado — the eye, the still point around which all the destruction rotates — there is calm. Not the absence of the storm. The center of it. The place where the spiral originates.

Forgiveness is not the absence of pain. It is the discovery of the center within the pain — the still point that the storm has been rotating around all along, that the storm itself was trying to reveal.

That is Step Two. That is Harmony. 

The chorus of this dream-gifted song says something that took me years to fully receive:

Dying and bearing, hating and caring —
all parts of one thing.

This is what the Inner Worlds Outer Worlds documentary illuminates through physics, through ancient wisdom traditions, through the mathematics of the spiral: the intelligence organizing the universe is not divided against itself. It is one self-similar, self-organizing wholeness, expressing itself at every scale simultaneously.

Which means there is no storm — no loss, no grief, no destruction, no person who has wronged you — that is outside the circle of the one source. Everything that has ever hurt you was also made of love, operating through fear, temporarily forgetting what it was. That imbalance is calling forth the balance needed to help everything function again.

This is not a reason to accept harm or remain in harmful situations. It is a reason to stop carrying the weight of it in your body long after the situation has passed. It is a reason to find the center — the still point — and plant your feet there, and let the debris swirl past without becoming it.

The song asks a question I want to leave with you before the video begins:

.

A heart that is dying is one that has stopped moving. Stopped forgiving. Stopped allowing the spiral to do what the spiral was designed to do — reorganize, renew, reveal what was hidden beneath what needed to be cleared.

A heart that has grown is one that has moved through the vortex. That has found the center. That has discovered, in the still point at the eye of its own storm, that love was never destroyed by what passed through it.

It was only waiting to be found again 

where the choice we make for life, health, thriving can in all honesty

 with true life alignment and one-ness in proper order - BE!

This is the remembering that harmony brings us back to - the gift of the spiral of creation, disrupting the imbalances in ever-sustaining re-alignment with life.  

This is what the vortex is here to help us remember