To see a World in a Grain of Sand
and a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
and Eternity in an hour.

William Blake

Upside down.  That is how days begin here with this body on this part of the planet in an area called San Francisco Bay.  Literally, the day begins with taking my feet toward the sky and my head toward the earth, in a sort of modified head stand.  This little gesture began a few decades ago with more of an intent of instilling confidence and trust into the day.  Over the years, this morning habit has evolved in part into a humble gesture of remembering that things are not always as they seem.  For example, it is summertime here in the Northern Hemisphere, yet winter below the equator – long days here, short ones there.  A quiet, treed neighborhood is here around the apartment building I in which live, yet annihilation and sieges spreading elsewhere.

Closer in, being upside down at the beginning of the day is a stark reminder of one the most basic, yet influential, forms of life – soil!  Even though I’m inside and on a wooden floor, my mind is focused on support.  That focus yields the feeling of being uplifted by, and connected to, supportive realms beyond my immediate sight.  In this temporary inverted state, no rationalization could tell me that earthly existence is not sacred, and that divine spirit is found elsewhere.  My entire visceral experience tells me otherwise.

For me, the soil is a sacred living being, more precious than any of her diamonds or rubies.  In the words of the scientist Galileo Galilei: ” If soil were as rare as jewels or gold, every prince and princess would spend a cartload of their jewels in exchange for even a small amount of soil to plant a jasmine or sow an orange seed.”  To hold and observe a handful of fresh soil is to hold a microcosm of the universe – microbes, worms, bugs, seeds, and elements akin to those in stars, e.g., carbon, hydrogen.  Arising from this handful of soil are countless other living forms – stones, trees, plants, reptiles, birds, animals, humans, and the land that is our home.

In a more abstract way, soil is a reminder of the continuous life cycles of life and death, receiving and releasing.  For example, leaves bud and flourish, then they release and form new soil.  Mammals eat, digest and help replenish the nutrients of the soil.   These are all reminders of the seamless, natural interconnectedness of life forms.  Soil is in some ways the holy center where all life meets, renews, seeks integrative well-ness, and thrives.  (Note: The word holy in its roots gives a nod toward health, wholeness, sacred, that which cannot be transgressed.)

Soil is quietly there in the background of modern-day human life.  Even though it is paved over, hidden, and even considered filthy, soil keeps on working.  Regardless of who or where we are, she is still doing her best to continue supporting and balancing our – and our nature-kin’s – essential needs.  Ironically, she is the loving support that we long for.  My hope is that my daily remembrance of soil has inspired me to walk a little more lightly and live a little more reverently, and that over time my entire life I will be infused with the grace of the soil within my words, gestures and interactions.  Perhaps you will join me in recovering reverence for our collective gift of soil.

Practice
This practice is more like a prayer of appreciation for soil.   

Prepare— 

  • Find a comfortable seated position, e.g., on a chair, or the floor.
    • Allow yourself to feel the surface beneath you, especially where there is a connection between you and that which is supporting you.
      • Invite an awareness of the layers of support beneath you, e.g., the floor, the foundation of the building, the soil, the microbes in the soil, the multiple layers of earth.
      • Then, invite a sense that your weight is gently and lovingly being held by these layers of support.
    • If on a chair, allow the soles of your feet to rest on the surface beneath you.
  • Scan through your body from your ankles to the crown of your head.
    • Notice any unneeded tension you might be using to hold you upright, and invite it to soften with the trust that you are being safely held.
  • Keeping a sense of being held by the support beneath you, allow a slight lift from your seated surface through your torso to the crown of your head.

Practice— 

  • Seated, invite your palms to rest on your thighs with your fingers relaxed.
    • Imagine your palms could speak to your legs through the quality of a sincere and honest touch of kindness and gratitude for this part of you that is closest to the soil.
      • If you are seated on the floor and have easy access to your feet, take a few moments to also rest your hands on your feet before returning them to your thighs.
    • Notice any shift in the muscles in your thighs as you let your own hands gently rest on your legs.
      • Note:  If for any reason you feel any aversion toward this part of the practice, please feel free to skip it, and to make any adjustments you feel you need to.
    • If you are comfortable, stay here with a few gentle breaths.
  • Standing, pause and once again invite a connection to the surface beneath you.
    • If comfortable, trace through the cues in the “prepare” section above.
    • Note:  If standing is not accessible to you, please skip this standing portion.
  • Slowly begin to walk in a smallish circle clockwise.
    • Imagine you are stepping on the skin of a living being whom you adore and who adores you.
      • This being is the soil and can handle your weight, but treasures the chance to commune with you – and adore you –  through your feet and footsteps.
    • Walk for a couple minutes, or as long as is comfortable for you.
    • Invite your breath to be easeful as you walk together with the earth.
  • Return to a seated position.
    • Silently acknowledge the soil, all life forms, and the gift of communing through your feet and lower body with the earth.
      • I offer these words for your inspiration: “I acknowledge the soil.  I acknowledge the soil’s endless capacity to hold and nourish me.  I offer gratitude to all those who protect and care for the soil – e.g., the small farmers, farm workers, gardeners – and endeavor to do my part in caring for the soil in the way it cares for life.   I revel in and honor the belongingness of all beings sustained and nourished by the soil.   And, I acknowledge my digestive system and its ability to receive and digest the offerings of the foods from the soil.   I am grateful for my feet and legs and my ability to stand and to make choices to do the least harm possible.  I offer reverence to the Divine for these gifts.”
  • Take a few breaths.

Transition Back into Your Day— 

  • Sit quietly for a few moments, with the eyes and ears tuned inward.
    Place your hands over your heart and pause for a moment.
  • When you are ready, return to your day.

This poem appears in Mala of the Heart: 108 Sacred Poems, page 107, edited by Ravi Nathwani and Kate Vogt and published by New World Library.   The practice is a modified version of a practice in “Our Inherited Wisdom:  54 Inspirations from Nature and Poetry” by Kate Vogt, page 341-43, available throug Bookshhop, or order through your local independent bookstore.   HEARTH is posted each new and full moon.  KateVogt©2025.

Enjoy gems of natural beauty 
& #naturesutras

invitation to connect

Are you wondering if this is the right time for a Living Wisdom Mentoring session?
upcoming events

©2019 Kate Vogt. Privacy Policy. Portrait Photography by Paulina Paczkowska