Relating beyond the human
With the Sun, Mercury and Jupiter all moving through Libra right now, I've been considering right relationship, how we connect with other beings, empathise with them, work with them. More specifically, I've been wondering about how we connect with the land, with the earth around us, her guardian spirits and energies. As I alluded to at the end of my last post, I feel that awakening those spirits of the land, bringing them back to life with stories and connection, is crucial if we are to develop the shift in consciousness we need to survive, and to thrive. Right now, too much is wrong with the world. It's easy to be isolated, focused only on ourselves, our success, our comfort. Even those who follow a spiritual path often take self actualisation as their highest goal. And it is a worthy goal, not least because each of us needs to be our very best self to navigate these difficult times.
But we need to look beyond ourselves too. To connect with each other, with our communities, real and virtual, local and global.
As I type, there is a fox asleep on next door's shed roof. An elderly one I think, rusty fur fading to white, black tipped ears still alert. It's distracting me, and I can't stop watching it, because there is something compelling about the wild, basking in the autumn sunshine in amongst the trees of my little corner of north London. We all have this urge to be part of nature, to connect not just with our fellow humans but with the animals, trees and other beings around us. We can build that relationship just by stepping out of our front door, by getting to know the nature around us. Watching the plants and trees as they cycle through the seasons, noticing the birds that visit our gardens. One of the most powerful things we can do is simply spending time in the wild, even (perhaps especially) the micro-wilds of our cities, sitting, being, listening to the wind in the trees and feeling the deep earth beneath our feet. We need to show up, to bring our open and authentic selves, to allow the land to get to know us as we get to know her.
So we build a relationship with the land, with the non human beings with whom we share our lives as well as the human ones. But what do we do within that relationship? In pagan and new age circles, there is often talk of healing the land, good and powerful work done to try to right some of the wrongs done by humanity. But many also believe that the earth is perfectly capable of healing herself, that it is arrogant and anthropocentric to imagine that only we can solve the earth's problems, especially as we caused most of them. I veer towards the second approach, but I also can't help feeling that since we did the damage, we should at least acknowledge that, offer respect and gratitude. I like the idea of earth exchange, of creating beauty where we have wounded the earth.
In my personal practice of connecting with the land, I find its best to ask. What the land wants, what the tree I greet every day at my local park feels, how the spirits of the land want to relate to us, if at all. So far, I've always had a fairly positive response, as long as there is reciprocity. That its ok to wild harvest a little, or to seek our human-centric meanings and messages in the land, as long as we care for her in return. Picking up litter, singing a song, making some nature art. Teaching my children and their friends the names of the trees and the birds, so that the next generation does not grow up even less connected to the earth than their parents. As with magic, I think its the intent that counts, our spirit or energy passed into the land, the trees, the nature around us. With any relationship, we need to show up, build shared experience, find ways to cooperate and learn from each other. It may be arrogant to assume that we can heal the earth, but perhaps we can find ways to help her heal herself, and find healing for ourselves in the process.
But we need to look beyond ourselves too. To connect with each other, with our communities, real and virtual, local and global.
As I type, there is a fox asleep on next door's shed roof. An elderly one I think, rusty fur fading to white, black tipped ears still alert. It's distracting me, and I can't stop watching it, because there is something compelling about the wild, basking in the autumn sunshine in amongst the trees of my little corner of north London. We all have this urge to be part of nature, to connect not just with our fellow humans but with the animals, trees and other beings around us. We can build that relationship just by stepping out of our front door, by getting to know the nature around us. Watching the plants and trees as they cycle through the seasons, noticing the birds that visit our gardens. One of the most powerful things we can do is simply spending time in the wild, even (perhaps especially) the micro-wilds of our cities, sitting, being, listening to the wind in the trees and feeling the deep earth beneath our feet. We need to show up, to bring our open and authentic selves, to allow the land to get to know us as we get to know her.
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| Sleeping fox, apricot tree where the blue tits live, sycamore where all the local wood pigeons like to hang out |
In my personal practice of connecting with the land, I find its best to ask. What the land wants, what the tree I greet every day at my local park feels, how the spirits of the land want to relate to us, if at all. So far, I've always had a fairly positive response, as long as there is reciprocity. That its ok to wild harvest a little, or to seek our human-centric meanings and messages in the land, as long as we care for her in return. Picking up litter, singing a song, making some nature art. Teaching my children and their friends the names of the trees and the birds, so that the next generation does not grow up even less connected to the earth than their parents. As with magic, I think its the intent that counts, our spirit or energy passed into the land, the trees, the nature around us. With any relationship, we need to show up, build shared experience, find ways to cooperate and learn from each other. It may be arrogant to assume that we can heal the earth, but perhaps we can find ways to help her heal herself, and find healing for ourselves in the process.