The Earth Our Mother

It is an edgy and not-easy endeavor, this not writing something anew.

It is a break and not a break.

Because it is difficult, I believe it is worth the experiment of doing it, well, not doing it, for this compulsive/obsessive type.

Rustling around and rumbling around, I have been scouring my files for something that feels relevant and current and right for Now.

Is there anything I have written that in the past that could possibly be relevant now, as we round out the end of this 2020 Year of Intensity?

By the way, dare I forget, let us thank, in no particular order:

Sorry, I digress:

I am not an easy re-reader of my work.  Once something is written, reviewed, edited, dreamt about, rewritten again, it crosses over an invisible line.

It is DONE.

Self-observation with kind hindsight, utilizing a current dose of strong zero-judgment, has been helpful in my current perusal, as I leaf through past blogs, wondering who I thought I might be when I wrote That.

Okay!

I just found something good enough—I can live with an amended version of my blog of 12/29/2019, just a year ago.

Who did I ever think I was then?

How could I ever have imagined what was ahead for us?

But I can live with this.

The blog from last holiday season drew on a piece from my second book, Already Home, Stories of a Seeker.

Written in 2010, literally a decade ago, is this relevant for us, today?

Check it out.

This is taken from a chapter called Spirit:

~~~

What do I believe in the depths of my soul, at this moment of my life?  What are my spiritual truths, my safety nets of belief that catch me as I tumble, amidst the everyday struggles of my life?  How do I navigate my way through the potential sludge of suffering that regularly awaits me?

I believe there is a spirit, a power, a grace in my life that is greater than I am and greater than my mind.  It is greater, I believe, than the human experience. This power is running the show, determining my reality. Call it God, call it spirit, call it intuition, call it grace or evolution, call it the great reality, or call it nothing.  There is something going on here with which I am partnered. That’s the good news—I’m not alone.

The bad news is: I forget this regularly.  I think I am in charge and attempt to control my reality.  When this happens, the results are generally not pretty. When I am operating on self-will, when I am forging forward with my intended plan for the moment, I suffer.  When I relax into what is, there is freedom and breath, and ease. It’s profoundly simple, yet it is the imperfect practice that will carry me, hopefully, to my final breath.

~~~
Yep.  I still believe those words, those ideas.

Even though it was written ten years ago, revived from my last holiday blog, I am signing off on it.

Could I ever have imagined, ten years ago, or even last year at this time, what 2020 would bring us?

Suffice to say, this past year, this 2020, has given me so many opportunities to practice.

(I’m sure you can hear me laughing at my own understatement.)

From the political to the personal,
From the intellectual to the spiritual,
From the emotional to the energetic,

I have had SO MANY
Opportunities to practice
Doing my best,
Letting go of the outcome.

Feeling my feelings,
Regaining perspective.

Being horrified,
Realigning with trust.

What have I learned this Year from Hades about my relationship with Spirit?

I have learned:

~~~

Most importantly, this year of quarantine has taught me that the Earth is Our Mother, that by opening the door to my house and walking on the Earth, a door to a deeper Home emerges.

I would like to re-introduce us to Bear Fox, an elder in the Haudenosaunee people, which is an alliance among six Native American nations. While each nation has its own identity, they together form a confederation, whose name means “people who build a house.”

Here is Bear Fox’s blessing, her chant to remind us of the glory, the beauty, the preciousness of our land.  If you live in the middle of a giant city, if you live in suburbia, if you live in the deep woods, this is for you; this is for all of us, indeed: