“As soon as the generals and the politicos can predict the motions of your mind, lose it. Leave it as a sign to mark the false trail, the way you didn’t go. Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection.” ~ Wendell Berry

Out beyond ideas of cultural appropriation, there is a field where Nietzsche has overcome good and evil, where Rumi has overcome rightdoing and wrongdoing, and where evolved self-overcoming Heyokas are in the sacred throes of clowning their asses off, waiting for you to courageously join them but also prepared to ruthlessly mock you if you do not.

They don’t give a damn about your cultural conditioning, your religious indoctrination, or your political brainwashing. They could give two blue shits about what you think is appropriate or politically correct.

They will call themselves whatever they feel like calling themselves: Thunder shaman, disaster shaman, holy idiot, trick doctor, self-inflicted philosopher, Death mocker, Life shocker, booger eater. Whatever! Heyoka is just a word representing an energy. Your whiney, woe-is-me, cries of cultural appropriation are crushed pebbles beneath their fleet-footed boot.

They are here to flip your script and scribble all over what you think you know. They are here to turn your tables into a feast where you just can’t kill the beast.

They are here to stretch your comfort zone into a self-overcoming, courage-based, expanding horizon rather than a self-limiting, fear-based, suffocating boundary.

When you need shelter, Heyoka will be the rain. When you need a parachute, Heyoka will be the fall. When your glass house needs a mirror, Heyoka will be the stone.

Art by Kelly Moore
Heyoka by Jiji970
Clownville by Eolo Perfido