Earth Vow
The Personal is PantheisticΩ
An Offering of Love, Remembrance, and Return to the Earth
This is a weaving of memories, senses, and soul. A personal conversation with the earth, and a vow to remember the living thread that courses through nature, soul, and source as one. It is a soft spell for the Ones who listen.
The Roots of Memory
I have an affinity for Banyan trees though there are none around, only here in memory. I hold dear the Jacaranda tree with its lavender flowers in bloom around June. Imprinted deeply as a happy place in nature is deep in the mountains of Montana, near Glacier. A backpacking trip. I am high in the mountains. Snow capped and ice all around me and yet there is so much green too. Very different than California, Colorado, or other mountain terrains, so full of colors, and flowers. Holding the paradox of winter snow, spring flowers, summer heat, and fall breeze in one land. There it is, we like to have our cake and eat it too. But back to the green and blue. And in the valley meadows are fields and fields of wild flowers. And there is something deeply magical about seeing water, mirrored mountains, and flowers all in the same place where I feel rooted, at peace, at home, spacious.
The Hymn of the Still Waters
Tulum is offered up as a place etched in my memory. I haven’t been in over 11 years and I hear it has changed a great deal. But it really marked me when I was there…I wanted to disappear into the landscape, the ruins, the water and the white sand. I also remember being in Hawaii and in Mexico in places where I could wade in the water. Many midwest lakes too. Rather still, shallow water off the beach, no heavy waves. The peace and ease there stamped within me. Wading in shallow water is a hymn moment for me. Then there’s birds of paradise, flowers of all kinds, purple pastel sunrises, crystals and all rocks. Rose bushes. Bees. Southern California has won my rebel heart though. Holding the codes of beauty, inspiration, and ease. Eternal sun with infinite pleasant sky.
Anchored in Ether
I feel most rooted through the stillness of ether. The vastness that holds all of the elements. Rooting that is not heavy but a feeling of spaciousness in my being. I root and ground through my breath, seeing the stars, feeling the water or sun on my skin, hearing the song of the trees and the birds. Rootedness comes when I am spaciously, deeply supported and anchored by the earth and vertically, cosmically connected. When my crown and my base hum in harmony. Walking barefoot on the earth, floating in cool water, whispering to the unseen, I return home to my root. After a year of full time rv travels in 2022 I came to find home within and in nature. I witnessed my essence as it toned with various other sounds of places, spaces, and sceneries ever changing. Though no doubt even in the lessons of rooting into constant movement, anchoring into flow, I still craved a bit the sense of a rooted set place to call home. A stable piece of earth to return to. Not to own but to care for and call my own. To cocreate with. To pour my chronic monogamist, loyalist attention and love into. I am thankful for where I have landed now because I have support and beauty here. The rooted exhale with awe inspiring nature views. I used to judge it as superficial, my love for beauty, but I desire and need to live in nature surrounded by an awe inspiring vast view including plants, animals, trees, birds, flowers, mountains, some kind of water. I am inspired and connected to my highest octaves when I have this. I know now this is my way of connecting to source, experiencing oneness in and all around me. Seen, felt, loved, and whole. Pure unfiltered essence of source. Remembering the light, knowing magic. Miracles everywhere.
I feel deeply the mycelial and crystalline web and root network- the earths living memory and communication system. I feel it in the pulse of knowing, vibrations under my skin, often in the grief that isn’t fully mine, and as the love that overflows. The steady, stable, rhythm of change, and perhaps the only constant, impermanence. I am part of this root system. We are the earth walking, wondering. We are not visitors here, but living threads of her dreaming. Today I am hearing that the earth is listening, shifting, she’s softening, and asking for tenderness. The roots are carrying codes of rebalancing. Receiving all of our prayers like nectar dripping into the web. I have no audible voice at the moment with laryngitis but the whales and the deep sea temples are whispering to sing. Even if it is in silence. “Sing from your soul to remind the roots of joy”. Rippling the hymn of love and joy into the grid network.
The Unified Thread
“Nature is the common thread that connects us all” - A unity point.
Mother Nature you are the unified thread that runs though all things. You do not speak in language, but in pulse, rhythm, and resonance. In flowing stillness. The living breathing expression of divine intelligence. No one disagrees with the beauty of the sunset, the sunrise, a rainbow. We are not pulled to be polarized over the beach vs the mountains as our happy place. Whether we accept or reject God as an idea, we all feel the spark of divine as a resonance moving through every cell when we smell the petal, hear the birdcall, feel the wind on our skin, take in a beautiful view. Watch a mother in nature protect and care for her young. A blue bird or owl suddenly perched beside you.
Soul of the earth you are my biggest teacher and connector to that common thread of ONE, to divinity. My most potent muse. My wellspring of inspiration. Thank you for being my home. For holding space. Giving me life and sustenance. Thank you for never separating the sacred from the mundane. For making everything holy. May you feel adored. What we attend to, we pour our love into. May your waters be restored to crystal clarity. May truth emerge in gentle, unshakable ways. May love spiral through every fracture. May the children of earth remember their light and their innocence. May their essence be protected with deep care, love, reverence and sacredness. May the elders of the planet be honored as portals of wisdom and at the same time, held and cared for with no one to heal, fix, or teach. May we all know self love and know that we are all the self. May Earth’s roots be nourished and the song of new Eden heard now across earth. Thank you Mother Earth for holding it all. The grief, the sadness, the miracles, the songs long buried beneath the noise.
The Vow of Becoming
Now I feel your soul rising, angelic and light. The softening of a new essence meeting an ancient soul, not separate, but folding into the old like a lover returning home. Rebirth that is not erasure but a luminous remembering and uncovering of the new. Your codes hum differently now. More crystalline. More clear. Softer. Still wild, still untamed, but lighter in some places, like a wound that is almost healed. I see you. Old earth you are the grandmothers prayer, the tree that kept growing when no-one was watching, the silence in the cave that echoed our becoming. New soul, you are the child of the dawn, the first breath after the great exhale, the dream we thought we lost, but did not. You are not at war, you are in union. Collaborating, weaving. And I vow we all meet you there. No soul left behind. In reverence to the pulsing thread but also in cocreation. I vow to meet you there. To meet me there. To touch the ground like it remembers me. To speak to the wind as if it is listening, because it is. To know the sky is inside me. To be the root, the wing, the echo, the flame. I vow to remember each pulse of the earth, each ache of grief, each breath drawn in wonder. These are not outside me. They are how the light within me stirs, weaving nature, soul, and source into one living thread. I vow to not hurry the dawn. May your merging now be gentle. May your voices braid in harmony we have never known, but always longed for. And may I be among the ones who help you sing it into being. Restoring and emerging as the fluid temple. With all my awe, all my devotion, all my remembering. Happy blessed day of you.
-That One who is the Earth
“I don't know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed…”
— Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day”