Thanks to weeks of prep work on our first chakra workshop, I’ve had my attention turned to the ground. This was exacerbated with the plethora of tomatoes ripening and thus my hours spent in the garden or the kitchen, dealing with the bounty. And this was multiplied by my current morning read, Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. (Highly recommend!) One of the thoughts/questions that has arisen is: do we belong to a place or does it belong to us?
Of course, for practical and economical reasons, land ownership exists. Deeds, mortgages, all the things. Likely, for most of us, we take pride in our homes, the patch of dirt where we raise(d) families and spend our time, maybe even that grows some of our food and the place where we toss a ball with our kids. We love our spot of earth. More and more, I see the way we tend to it.
Kimmerer raises a question amongst nature-writers: What would happen if people believed this crazy notion that the earth loved them back?
That’s how I’ve been seeing these beautiful golden balls falling from our tomato plants. The earth collected weeks worth of sunshine and rain water and morphed it into the makings of a perfect BLT or pot of sauce. They’re like gifts of love, the same when my kids paint me a picture to hang on the fridge. Tokens of love.
If we use the ancient way of seeing “the microcosm of a macrocosm”, our own bodies are the more immediate dwellings of our homes of the earth. I’ve been prone to remind us to “love your body” and now I need to take a moment and ask: What would happen if people believed this crazy notion that the body loved you back?
As I get older, I tend to notice the way things in my body don’t work they way they used to. But rather than perseverating on the extra poundage, what if I recognized that my body was concerned I might wither away and has been leaving me future meals in the storehouses, much the way we put the jars of salsa on the shelf? You might need this later, she says.
Even the early symptoms of illness – a drip of the nose, a tickle in the throat – could be love notes, reminding me to take it easy. I’m more inclined to eat nourishing foods when I’m under the weather, so maybe those “symptoms” are her way of saying, “more veggies, please!”
Love moves two ways (we’ll learn more about that with the 4th Chakra), and if you’re like me, sometimes it’s harder to receive than to give. That dose of humility required to say “thank you” or “wow, I didn’t even know I needed you in this way” can uncomfortable at first. We are accustomed, especially as women, to being the doer and the giver.
But if it’s true, the earth and your body do love you, then what does that mean? How will you move about in this world a little differently? My hope is that it’s filled with more compassion, generosity, and confidence. Because ultimately, those who feel loved also grow into their worthiness to be loved.
Here’s to it, my friends. Let’s show up. Work hard. Shine bright. Love all.
