â€œThose who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength
that will endure as long as life lasts.Â There is something infinitely healing
in the repeated refrainsÂ of nature — the assurance that dawn comes
after night, and spring after winter.â€Â ~Rachel Carson
Happy first day of Spring.
As I write these words, the birdsong is especially loud outside my living room windows. Sometimes, I write seated on my living room sofa, so I can see look out onto the church garden directly across the street. There are at least a dozen three or four-year olds running around the garden shrieking with delight. So much joy!
Spring has its own particular feeling. It is a time of coming out, blossoming, and growing. We begin to come out into the world, out from our hibernation and into connection and growth.
The natural world calls to me. It soothes me. It enlivens me. It reminds me of what I am.
We are living in a time of deep transformation and the chaos and turbulence that transformation holds. I feel this in my body.
And, as I’ve learned from dancing chaos, if we surrender to it, if we receive what it offers, we are transformed and we release that which no longer serves. The old dies and the new is born.
Our healing lies in our remembrance of our relationship with nature. We are nature. We are not separate from it. And in this remembrance, our relationship with the earth is reawakened and enlivened.
I have become much, much more aware of how much I am given and how little I appreciate it. I can see how much I want, and how little I offer in return.
What does it mean to really live with gratitude for this life? How do we live when we live gratitude?
Look closely at the earth – she is teeming with life. Smell her fragrance. Walk with conscious feet. Maybe even go barefoot! Notice how when your feet kiss the earth, the earth kisses your feet. Touch her in many places, with wonder. Taste the succulence she offers.
Remember the wonder for the earth that you knew when you were a child. If you can’t remember, ask a child to reacquaint you.
It is through her, the earth, that we can finally come to know we belong here, that we are a part of her, a part of each other. Every choice we make impacts the well being of all of life on this precious planet.
My footprint has an impact, has consequences. How awake can my feet be? How much love can they show?
How will my feet dance on the earth’s skin when they offer, to her, what words cannot say?
6 Replies to “Dancing On the Earth’s Skin”
Just beautiful, as ever.
“Dancing on the earth’s skin” – just gorgeous.
Stunning writing- so inspiring & a great reminder!
Thank you, Amanda. I appreciate your kind words. Glad you were inspired!
My fellow dancer. I feel my body coming back to life/renewing with Spring just as I notice new buds and the earth coming back out as well. I love going outside and hearing the bees buzzzz. I dance with joy and appreciation and after a rainstorm, I put the earthworms on the sidewalks back on the grass before they drown.
Great read Julie!
Sara, I love that we share the dance. And, doesn’t Spring bring something bright and delicious to the body?! Julie
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