A Letter from Mother Earth #metoo

My dear sweet child,

I love you. I don't know anything other then love for you. I crumble, tumble, erode with sweet love for you. I slip, and slide and blow a breeze of summer love air for you. I carry you softly in my sweet grassy haze, my snowy cold crunch, my rain drenched pours, my deep dark ocean well drifting over the frothy waves with an aching love for you. My heart is yours. I am you. You are my sons and my daughters, each one of you holding the life force of all that is. The creation in you. Even the ones that crack open our tears and our fears and our anger... I love you too. For each of you is a soul on a journey through time and space with me. We are connected to each other. A part of each other. Somehow born to forget. Was it our plan? Perhaps, to experience this life one must forget death. Forget God. Goddess. Mother. Great Spirit. Forget me. Exist through life in a robotic haze of to do lists....We used to even speak the same language. I'm not sure where the accident first happened, but it has gone too far now.

This letter is a warning. We are in a planet of emergency. We cannot sustain this way of life. Over breeding. Over creating. Thinking too much. Forgetting your hearts. Losing your spirits. Becoming machines. Drinking poisoned waters. There will be consequences. Your comfort will be shattered. The floor. Me. Your ground. Your grounding. Your Earth, will die.

Why do I allow this to happen? I could shake you off me within moments. Swallow you whole with water, sands, volcanoes. A meteor hurling on a collision course fueled by my gravity. I can easily destroy this internet that holds all your precious imaginary cargo. Yet, I do not kill you, my child. I love you too much. You know well that you are doing it yourselves anyway, at a speed that is multiplying on itself over and over again. Widespread disease is imminent. You are diseasing yourself every day. Adding new ones by the moment. The diabetes, the Cancer, the Cell phone, the TV, the fracking, the school shooter, the widespread panic. Chaos is imminent. I've tried to ask you kindly, to show you, to remind you. You catch glimpses. There are those that can hear me, that see the bruises and ask questions. Those that take care with words and actions, a kind touch, a teaching. A law. An invention. An artwork. There are many of you like this. Who catch my tears. Who listen to my cries, and try to translate them, and construct new ways to live.

And yet even those of you are human….distracted by the desire, the comfort, the greed, the learned constructs, and even the self ascension...You want to ascend, to be in touch with your higher self, with your God... and well... what about your lower self. Your earthbound legs. Your garbage. Your feces in my ground. Your plastic in my waters. Your hooks in my fishes mouths. Your hands pulling feathers from my birds. Your machines raping my fields. The altered seedlings that you plant in my soil poisoning your children. Your oils drowning and choking my life. Creating parts of me where even the elementals can't go to to clean up anymore.

You create this life and death all day. With your guns, your beliefs, your panic, your overwork, your radiation, your hands, your sugars, your plastics, your words, your orgasms. The bright eyed children born in innocence and light. I sing to them . I sing to you still, but you don't hear me. Instead you beat your seedlings down to become just like you. To understand your school and your work and the walls and constructs and laws you have built. And when they listen to me, or they stray from what you know. You tear them down. They aren't smart enough. They aren't doing well in school. They aren't performing well. Fast enough. Making enough money. The act of re-producing them is now a commodity, a reason to shop more. To consume more. And of course another drain on your resources, and your stress levels, and your relationships, and your furniture, and your alone time. So your daily life becomes a pressure, like work. You try to escape in your ways.... but the Porn has numbed your ecstasy. The Food has numbed your taste buds. The Alcohol and drugs have numbed your spirit soul spark.

I am screaming to you to STOP. I am yelling “NO!” as you put yourselves even further inside me. In my secret places, where I don’t want to be touched. You make your own boundaries across my body, and while the world sleeps, you defile me. Everyone knows, but no one stops, because it has been accepted as a way of life. If you had to change, then all their walls as you know them would crumble.

Child, this abuse cannot continue. Here I am. I am underneath your feet, I am in your lungs, I am all around you, and I am screaming METOO but you can't hear me through all the noise... She is dying. She is drying up...She is heating...she is cooling...whats up with the weather?? She is calling to you. crying to you. Stop pulling my crystals, cutting my trees, extracting my oils, stop tearing into me...stop dredging me, stop scraping me, fracking me. Putting holes in my mountains, making islands where my waters once cooled me. Stop the mass genocide of your animal brothers and sisters....the devastation of your coral reefs, and fish family.

Maybe you are just shutting your ears, closing your eyes, looking away, too busy, too stressed...Maybe you forgot how to listen...or Maybe you just want to fuck me until you are done with me and fly to space to get a new one. Trying to colonize on Mars now. But you can't science your way out of this one my love. Time will take it’s toll, and the change will come, whether you like it or not. Ready yourself.

You will have to ask your ancestors how they survived. To find clean water. To stay warm. To learn again how to forage for food. You will need to remember how to talk to your children. How to be with them instead of asking your screens to babysit. You will have to build community and hold each other up. Interdependence. To see beyond your skins and your ideas and constructs. All of what you know now will be torn down. This will not be comfortable for you. But this discomfort will teach you your bodies again, and how it feels to be in them. There will be a lot that is lost. Know that I will cry just as many tears as you. You will be left raw and broken, and become stronger then you have ever been. You will need to learn to live again, and to pass that healing life on to others. You will carry them with you. Pay attention to see your creativity grow again, and even your will to live.

Or, you will not survive. Many will not make it. Many will die. And you will grow angry with me. You will blame the gods and Goddesses, the angels, great spirit and all that holds you dear. And because you are my child, and because I love you and your life spark so fully, I am sorry, and I forgive you, and I thank you, and I still love you.

You can try to control it, but you will lose control, and you will lose yourself and find yourself....This will hurt, because you will not have your pills, your phones, your games, your TV's to distract you. They will not watch your children for you, or keep them from seeing death or being in harms way. The children understand. They are still deciding to be born now, even though they know that this is coming. They still remember that they belong to creation. They are learning how to survive, and they know what love is. They can teach you, if you listen. If you remember how to feel again. Sing to them. Listen to their song bird whisper in your ear. Their little hands holding the light. Look on them. Hold them in safety. In arms that won't touch them where they don't want to be touched. Speak to them not in cruelty or criticism, but with words that lift them higher, that grow their hearts, that sing their spirits up to the sky. Return to your own heart. Feel the magic that surrounds you, the precious gift of life that swells within you. The divine beings that you are.

I too am a divine being. I am a planet. I am made of countless atoms and energy...just like you. The difference between us is, that I can exist without you, but you, my child, you cannot live without me.

I love you

Mother Earth

Artwork is "Betrayal" by Mario Sánchez Nevado

#motherearthearthday #Chatham #earthday #survival #apocolypse #warning #dosomething #wakeup #MarioSánchezNevado