Spring Snow on the Peaks Yesterday …
Snowflakes fall to quench the thirst of Mother Earth as Robin sings its song of Spring and I write contentedly by the fire with a full and grateful heart.
Restoring our connection with All Life and its Source is first developing a way of BEing from which new choices of doing offer themselves and rise.
This morning I’m happily snuggled by the fire as snowflakes fall to quench the thirst of Mother Earth and as Robin sings its song of Spring and I write contentedly by the fire with a full and grateful heart. While Robin harkens the coming of spring weather, winter snowflakes invite me deep within. I reflect on the conditions of Life on our planet and especially in the country that is my home, while recognizing that Gaia knows no such manmade boundaries of place. I ask ‘what is mine to do in the year ahead?’.
Earlier I was thinking about how so many of our habitual patterns are reinforced by the world’s systems. We’re guided away from spontaneity and the flow of life by such things as cheaper airfare and lodging when we forego the right to cancel or change our plans without penalty or forfeiture. While I understand the ‘business’ case of these systems, my heart observes tenacles reaching out from the power over paradigm. One more way in which we are habituated to disregard the flow of Life.
It is also part of the nature of our extractive, exploitive ways. In our relationship with the Earth and sometimes in our relationships with one another we have forgotten to ask and wait to be answered, to give gratitude, and to reciprocate.
Forgetting that She is a living, breathing Being, without permission we poke holes in Mother Earth to extract her life blood in support of our ways of living. All too often far too many of us don’t give thanks to Gaia, and even less frequently do we reciprocate. Our systems fail to include these important aspects of relationships. And, as a result, we have lost touch with Life, its Flow, and its Source.
While I often remember to say, ‘thank you!’ when I turn on the tap or drink a glass of water, I can’t recall a time when I’ve done the same as I pumped fuel into the gas tank or when I light the propane stove daily to prepare a meal. I do give thanks each time I build a fire in the woodstove for the wood that warms my home. Sometimes I even wonder how the tree beings in the woods out back feel about me burning their kin. I suspect that they are more in touch with and honor the cycles of life and death than do I.
Coming home last evening to a surprisingly darkened neighborhood that had apparently lost power in the brief time I was away, I thanked the Sun for providing energy stored in a battery that kept the porch light burning on a dark, though starry, night and that powered the few lights needed to make my way to getting under the covers. But rarely, if ever, do I thank the other sources that also power the lights and appliances in my grid-connected home and that keep me connected to the world beyond these woods.
Rarely do I fully acknowledge all that Mother Earth provides that supports my well-being, my comfort, and, indeed, my convenience.
I claim to ‘steward’ this land and these woods that I am privileged to occupy. And, while I do regularly offer my thanks as well as small gifts to the trees and the other Beings that dwell and traverse here, rarely do I remember to ask permission and wait to be answered before I barge in for a visit.
It occurs to me that I (and we) can use the disruption of systems in this time as catalysts to examine my (our) choices, our habits, our ways of life. As the systems we’ve grown accustomed to are crumbling, opportunities to ask and listen to our planet home, to Mother Earth’s wisdom, abound. As I examine and re-examine my habitual ways, I aim to ask and listen more and to set aside acting as if I already know the answer.
Restoring our connection with All Life and its Source is first developing a way of BEing from which new choices of doing offer themselves and rise. I long to more clearly hear the gentle whispers and loud roars of the Ancestors offering their wisdom to guide me. I hear the voices of the children and those yet to inhabit physical bodies on this earth plane asking me (and us) to listen. I listen for the voices of the Mother Trees and their offspring, of the flowing creeks, and the land. I listen, longing to hear more clearly, the guidance of Mother Earth and all the Great Mothers of our cosmos.
As I begin a new trip around the Sun, the first of a new quarter century of such journeys in this physical vehicle, this is my prayer as I/we seek to co-create new ways forward, new habits, deeper alignment with and appreciation for Gaia and the cosmos that is Home.
… And Here in the Woods this Morning!