Love Letter to the Earth
Dear Earth,
Today is no different than any other day, yet somehow only this day has the name “Earth Day.” Perhaps it is noteworthy that today thousands upon thousands of two-legged beings pause and utter “Earth” to one another. It offers some hope that we might humbly remember that without us you would still exist, but without you we would not exist.
I realize in even saying “I,” “you,” and “we,” they imply some separateness that is not there. Just like yesterday is part of today, and today is part of tomorrow, the web of inter-relationality and inter-connectedness pulses through all existence. Forms manifest, then seemingly dissolve and reappear like notes of an eternal song in praise of the beauty of being held within the boundless, nameless grace.
Still, given that I write to you with a language that itself embodies separateness, I will continue with these words “I” and “we.” My heart knows differently, as does this body in her roundness. My eyes are mini-orbs, and my torso, head, fingers, toes and limbs are spherical – all visible reminders of our own earthly shapes/forms. The knowingness of your roundness, wholeness, and consistent equalness lives within the way the breath and the blood move in rhythm with your spiraling cycles of existence.
So, on this day called “Earth Day,” I apologize that this separateness has layered your surface in concrete made of stones from your rivers. It has filled the air with beeps and bongs, turned your wavy blue surfaces into browns and greys, and carved into your skin. With its of currency of hierarchy, possession and differences, it has silenced your enduring wisdom of endless generosity, caring for the well-being of all, unity and equanimity without asking for anything in return.
Also, on this day, I honor those silent voices who have always lived within the whole of you – your leafed, feathered, furred, scaled, and winged beings. I honor your rocks, mountains, waters, directions, realms, and elements. And, as a two-legged being, which is called human in this language, I honor those humans who, regardless of being repressed by the pressures of separateness, have always been enfolded in wholeness and the grace that holds and loves all. These are those called sages, prophets, mystics, poets, saints and indigenous elders whose voices transcend all illusions of time and separateness.
You are the first of divine beings. You are whole. Wholly blessed and holy. Whole is always home.
With Love,
Kate
NOTE: This is a special H E A R T H post. Normally, H E A R T H is posted each new and full moon.
