Earth and us: awakening our consciousness and learning from the land

by Betty Daugherty, FSPA

Ever since we first caught a glimpse of Earth in a photo taken from the moon, we’ve been even more in love with that small jewel floating in the darkness of space. This is home. Home not only to the humans who arrived here about 2 ½ million years ago, but Earth is home to an astonishing variety of life. Now we’ve begun to think of all life we see around us as “our community.”

We live in a community with so much variety, so much diversity and so much beauty. As Brian Swimme says, our best response is to say “Wow!”

Seeing that picture from space awakened us to a new reality about our home and its oneness, its unity. And from that visual image, sometimes called our holiest icon, we are struck with the reality that all life found on this planet depends on a basic support system which includes the air we breathe, the soil that supports and feeds us, the water that sustains and cleanses life, and the warmth and light that come from the sun. Lacking one of these, life would be impossible.

Our awakened consciousness opens us to a vital truth. Our Earth is a single, living organism. Everything that happens anywhere on this planet has an impact on everything else. Earth embraces a community of life and we are part of it.

So it is all about relationships. And for us, as beings who are conscious of our connections to one another and to Earth, the way we see ourselves in relationship to the rest of life on the planet is of primary importance.

In considering these Earth systems—air, water, fire and earth—it is perhaps the land itself that offers us the most intimate of relationships. Wherever we live on this planet it is the land, the hills and mountains, prairies and valleys, our gardens, orchards and farmlands that speak to us. The land gives us roots, it offers shelter, it responds to our care as well as to our destructive activities. Land connects us with ourselves and with an all-embracing presence. We need the land for our sustenance but also for soul experiences, for our inner being.

What might we learn from our experiences with the land that speaks to us in its own language? We might learn . . .

• To be open
  The land is open. It welcomes the seeds that fall upon it. It opens itself to the rain, the snow, the sunshine, and, mercifully, to all the critters who depend on its abundance.
  
• To welcome creativity
  What a deluge of shapes, colors, sounds, smells and tastes flood the senses, spur the imagination and inspire all forms of art.
  
• To be willing to be transformed
  A small acorn becomes a huge oak. Small brown bulbs, looking just alike, blossom into a patch
  of brilliantly colored tulips. Inner potential bursts into life.
  
• To welcome change
  From winter’s drifts to the blossoming of spring, from summer’s hues to the splendor of fall, life is always on the move.
  
• To be patient
  It takes years for a tree to sink its roots and spread its branches. Seeds resting in frozen earth
  know there will be a time to wake up and sprout.
  
• To endure
  Storms rage, fire sweeps across a prairie both destroying and renewing. Drought-stricken land waits in thirst for the blessing of rain.
  
• To be humble
  The land offers a silent acceptance, taking what has been given as a form of blessing.
  
• To honor the interdependence of community
  The flower awaits the bee that will spread its pollen. The bee sucks in the sweet fluid that will form the honey. The leaf carpet will protect and nourish new life.