Returning to the Memorial Garden, singing farewell songs and remembering Cully. He educated thousands of of people about our God-given right to cannabis and the benefits of the hemp plant. When folks were divided about this or that in the Maine cannabis community, Cully kept going, doing the work that needed to be done. Teaching.
With the powerful wail of the bagpipes setting his earth spirt free, I recommitted mySelf in his honor and memory to never back down from doing my part to speak truth to power. There are so many acts of “resistance of the heart against business as usual” to be done. I think that when we do what we can individually, the collective impact creates the world we want to live in.
We just don’t get to know how anything will turn out. What we get to do is the work to make it possible. So we go in faith, hope and love. But we must surely keep going. Keep the faith. Walk in beauty. Seek joy. Turn on your love light and let it shine.
In the beginning, I did not know what this plant would bring to the Memorial Garden. I still don’t know anything but the magnificent fragrance and bouncy cheerful color I can see from my kitchen window. And I remember Cully’s mischievous grin. His vibrant twinkle. The sticky sweet green bud he shared so freely and with such pleasure.
The work of liberation and resistance doesn’t end. Harry say that rights are not given, they are won and taken. The garden needs weeding, so the fullness of color has space to emerge. Weeds of indecision, past regrets, discouragement, fear, weariness–rip them out and make way for an explosion of color revolution.
Cully was one of the political forces that created The Hill. To the cause of cannabis liberation, he did indeed commit his life, his fortune and his sacred honor. In honoring his work, we can do no less.