Your comment like a nail
I moved
You missed
Hammering fruitlessly
You continue to hiss steam like geyser
But I’m out of the way
Over here
And while I stay formless
I can simply disappear
I am part of it all
You’re apart
Your heart reaches but cannot grasp
The tangles of mental vines choking
We play either the victim
or the perpetrator
Flipping roles,
Masks that wear grooves in our cheeks
Until the thought occurs that actually,
I’m only here for awhile, gone so soon
And I merge as happily as a child
who has just learnt to tie her shoes
By taking them off
And behind me the sounds of construction continue
Humans are so bent on building things up up down
But how often do we look at the moon?
And remember how little we have really learned
Whilst all the while our souls cry at the separation from the soil
*the nerve endings in our feet – so many. Bury them in the grass, the soil. Modern humans can go days, years without their naked foot touching soil or grass.
I heard a yogi once say that for all these allergies and intolerances a person should dig a hole in the earth and then put their feet in it, backfill with soil and stay that way for an hour. Repeat as necessary – they are allergic to modern life and have forgotten their connection to earth. I don’t know if it works, I’m not allergic to anything and I take the opportunity when I remember, to take my bare feet walking on Mother Earth often.
Today began at 4am. My husband was leaving for a job in another town five or so hours travel away. After he left, it was still dark, I stoked the fire and did some writing. Once it was light enough I walked with my dog for a very long way. Thinking.
Perhaps due to this I was up in my head – a lot. I couldn’t seem to come back to earth and begin to be “productive” on my return.
Eventually it occurred to me – too much ephemeral human thinkism, not enough reality. I took my bare feet to the cold crisp lawn, then out of the freezing southerly wind I took shelter near a wall, and let the sun nourish my shoulders and back.
Barely twenty minutes, and I was reconnected.
By then of course I was sun drunk and reluctant to move – another problem with winter. But at least that off kilter feeling was gone.
We forget we are part of this earth, part of everything. Reliant on others, reliant on that giant sun, the seasons, the soil.
If you’re feeling off, disconnected and unsteady, perhaps it is a simple remedy. Take yourself to the earth. It can’t hurt and it might just help.
