G4RDN OF EDEN

June 11, 1963

I think often of Thich Quang Duc—the monk who chose fire as his voice. On June 11, 1963, in Saigon, he sat silently at the heart of an intersection, his robes drenched in gasoline, and struck the match that turned his body into a flame. His protest burned through the air as a truth too harsh for denial, confronting the world with the weight of humanity’s failures.

This act of sacrifice, this moment of defiance, reaches far beyond history. It asks us: What truths are we willing to endure? What illusions must we shatter to find freedom? Thich Quang Duc reminds us that transformation comes with pain—that it demands the courage to sit in the fire and let it burn away the layers that no longer serve us. He knew his flames would not fix the oppression he resisted, but they lit a path for others to see clearly—to confront injustice and choose action.

When I return to his image, I don’t just see him; I see us. I see the battles we fight within ourselves—the fears we avoid, the truths we censor, the comfort we cling to. I see the world’s resistance to change and the growing weight of silence. He invites us to ask: What part of ourselves needs to die so we can step fully into who we are meant to be?

I first encountered the image of Thich Quang Duc through an unexpected gateway—music. As a sensitive child, I stumbled upon Rage Against the Machine’s song "Freedom" from their 20th Anniversary album. I felt the weight of Zack de la Rocha's voice—its rage, its vulnerability, its truth. That song lit the spark of my connection to music, the way every soul finds their first anthem that carves meaning into their existence. For me, "Freedom," paired with the burning monk's image, was a mirror to Eden. It illuminated the world with clarity, urging me to see what lies beneath the surface.

From an early age, I harbored a quiet rebellion against the illusions wrapped around reality. I sought the jagged edges, the raw truth—even when it meant standing alone in its harsh light. Comfort never held me, not when truth could set me free. That image, and the journey of discovering music, humanity, and the fragments of myself, became threads woven into my understanding of connection—of the dance between creativity, existence, and the unseen.

Though I keep intentions pure, I often feel untethered in a world where truth can isolate rather than unite. People turn away from the sharpness of honesty, craving the ease of illusions. And in those moments of rejection, I’ve stumbled into fleeting self-loathing—but from the fall, I rise. Each fracture allows me to evolve, adding shape and depth to the being I’m becoming.

I hope that in your own way, you find the courage to explore yourself—to speak boldly, set boundaries, challenge norms, and embrace the truths waiting within. You are the architect of your life, and your journey belongs to you alone. When someone you love feels lost, remember: their healing is their path to walk. Offering too much can cast your shadow where their light should be— a reminder that love, even in its fiercest form, must allow space for autonomy. In letting go, we hold them closer.


ALLOW.


        "Disillusioned barriers to shed their skin" 
          - Yoni slit bleed

for you [ Reflection to Be6in Within ] :

NOTICE: The truths we uncover will sting, and instinct will urge you to retreat. But this discomfort is the threshold of transformation. Our shared struggle lies in silence—in censorship, not just from external forces but within ourselves, avoiding the painful realities that demand our attention. Look closely, and see where this collective denial has brought us.

Life does not wait for our tears. It moves, it churns, it demands. We must meet it—heal the wounds carved deep, love ourselves enough to challenge what no longer serves us, and dismantle the values and structures that fracture humanity instead of uniting it.

Please, for the sake of your soul and the soul of the world, rise. Your voice, your resilience, your truth—these are the seeds of change. Stop numbing yourself to the rawness of life. This is where freedom begins.

Instructions for Reflection:

As you write, remember: detach from your responses. They are not fixed truths, but evolving reflections of where you are in this moment—and that’s okay.

• How does the image of the burning monk resonate with my emotions, and what about it stirs those feelings?
• In facing societal injustices, how do I engage—what actions align with my truth?
• How has suffering shaped my understanding of life and my own growth?
• What does sacrifice mean to me, and where does it echo in my journey?
• How can I unearth and dismantle ideologies that no longer align with who I am or who we can become as a collective?
• What internal walls must I break down to reveal my most authentic self?

” I love you in all forms “

– yoni slit bleed

[SIT with these questions. Let them breathe within you. Resist the impulse to answer them immediately; if you do, it may stem from a surface reaction rather than a deeper truth. This isn’t a doubt in your ability to reflect but rather a gentle challenge to your ego. Allow yourself the grace to dismantle the protective walls that obscure your sight. There, in that raw and unguarded space, lies the clarity you seek.]