Go touch grass
This isn’t a suggestion. It’s not a demand either. It falls somewhere between the two.
I say it with love. I say it with sadness. I say it with every spectrum of human emotion.
A lot of guys will say their favorite movie is The Matrix. That always makes me chuckle because Matrix means Mother.
Mama.
The first word in every language and the word we inevitably revert to when talking about the Earth, no matter how scientific and gravel-voiced the conversation.
Earth.
Soil and earthworms and rocks older than the thought of thought. My GOD, said a man a few thousand years ago, this has got to be evidence of a male deity. This man’s ancestors were busy carving female figurines and placing them in every cave and burial site. This man’s descendants began calculating the age of stone deposits and found quite a few of them were older than 6000 years.
Pesky time keepers are rocks.
When they’re not disproving our theories, they are busy providing a foundation for every blade of grass.
Go touch some grass today. Run your hands through the wild seed heads. Sit down defiantly. Walk barefoot.
The time spent alone with nature is an investment in your relationship with yourself, a wide ecosystem of other than human friends and humans themselves.
I can reassure you the grass knows you and awaits your gentle return.
Be well.
Aoife.
This Tuesday, at 7pm Dublin time, we are holding our sixth journalling session for the Artist’s Way Group over Zoom. Please join us. We have so much fun with people from all over the world dropping in to be quietly present. Send me an email at hello@spiritandluxury.com if you’d like to join.