Sing from the Heart

July 15th, 2012

Bright green lichen and moss stand out from the branches today, full of life, enlivened by early morning summer rains.  Droplets of water hang from the ends of some tendrils.  The scent of earth permeates every breath.  Walking my familiar route, I spy Youngster just past Forest-Edge Ma.  She is brite and upright and quite a bit taller.  No longer a "youngster"!  She moved out of the place I had left her, as she said she might.  She waves happily and I greet her with joy in my heart.

"Listen!" she chirps.
Birds singing, bees and bugs buzzing, drip drips dripping from trees.  A bit of tightness welling in my throat.

"Is there anything we should do together?"
"Sing!!" she cries joyfully.

I feel sad.  I do not know how to hear her song to offer back to her.

Feeling my sadness, she says, "Listen.  In your heart.  To your song.  The one that comes through you when you are with me."

“Where do I find that song?”  I’m artistic, but I’m not musically creative…  I make offerings of tobacco and fragrant sage.  "Please teach me to hear the song...  I want to learn to hear it."

I reach out and hold her tenderly in my palm with fingers curled very lightly about her lithe body.  As she and I make contact, I am immediately aware of the tension in my body.  I relax, and we gently sway together in the light breeze.  As my body moves, I feel musical notes – I hum them softly.  Each movement becomes a different note.  When I finally open my eyes and hand to release her, I see that she has already begun to curl around my fingers with her body.

I reconnect with her.  Again, my awareness is immediately brought to the tension in my body.  I relax again.

"Sing to the earth," she says.  I try to sense into her roots.  I think it will take me some time to get this.  I light obkuryuvannya as a gratitude offering.

"Sing to the roots.  Sing to the earth.  That is our work together.  Listen and sing!"

"Any other message?" I ask her.
"Yes," she replies.  "Journey and sing."  I think of my flute and wonder if it would make the song easier, or more difficult, to find.

I turn to Forest-Edge Ma.  Nearby, a large slug eats leaves of Ocean Spray from a branch close to the ground.  I reach out and touch Ma, my heart full of emotion.

I have been struggling with the changes of my body the past two years as I undergo the passage of croning.  I have put on 10 pounds, along with all of the other changes.  I do not need words – she senses my struggles.

"Does slug concern herself with her body?  Do I? Does Little Ma?  We do what we must.  You – do what you must (it was a directive).  Walk to enjoy your body.  Move to enjoy your body as you do your work.  Do not concern yourself otherwise."  Images of people working on the land arise in my mind's eye.  Simple work.  Doing what we must.

More images and feelings follow in my mind and heart – of times when I get stuck and feel lost and resigned.
"Come visit us when you feel stuck and lost.  Just get out and walk to us."

I ask for any last message.
"Love yourself as you love us. You are us.  We are the same."

I feel the rest of her message – it arrives as a clear knowing: To not love myself is to not love her.

"This message is important right now," she stresses.  "You (humanity) need to get this message.  In order to heal the world and each other.  In order to heal with Nature.  To not love yourself and your body is to not love us and Gaia's body."

I feel her message deep in my heart.  Her energy is serious.  She needs me to hear this.

I stand looking at her for a few moments.  I want to approach her again, to make sure our communication is complete.  I reach out with my heart and want to reach with my hand – however, she is very clear: "No other message."

I feel her.  She wants me to take the seriousness of this message in.  Ma does not let me approach her so I touch my heart instead, in gratitude and recognition. "Thank you, Ma.  Thank you, Little Ma.  I understand you are me, and we, together, are the earth.  I will learn to love, all.”