Here On Earth
© Robin Easton - All Rights Reserved
Kasha-Katuwe — Tent Rocks National Monument
We often talk of connecting to the Living Earth, and yet we talk about it and live it in a more conceptual way. We replicate facets of nature in our photography, paintings, music, sculpture, a website like mine, and so on. We refer to nature as beautiful scenery. We place house plants in our windows, grow outdoor gardens, listen to CDs of bird songs, place silk or plastic flowers in vases, and use artificial air fresheners called ‘Wild Flowers’ or some other name.
These actions can be very good and bring us closer to nature, like growing a garden or having house plants, but our connection to the Living Earth goes much deeper and is a very literal need, and visceral experience.
Most early humans did not go an hour, let alone a day, without engaging all of their senses with the Living Earth. They often walked miles without shoes. This allowed all the pressure points in their feet to be stimulated, which in turn stimulated various organs in the body, which kept them balanced and healthy. It also allowed their feet to absorbed Earth’s free electrons, a powerful antioxidant. Their feet were stained with brown earth, with little or no separation between Earth and humans.
Their hands constantly tugged, grasped, and clasped, and their arms lifted and lugged firewood, food, and water. Their fingers were stained from red berry juice, green plant chlorophyll, and animal blood from killing other species if they ate mammals, fish, birds, reptiles, or insects. They knew what it took to stalk and kill a single deer. They knew what it took to survive, so they empathized with the deer and its survival skills and life commitment. They did not kill without conscience, nor unnecessarily. They were grateful for the life they took whether plant, animal, insect, honey, water, soil, or air.
Their sense of smell was in constant use and guided them to wildlife, edible flowers, fruits, water, and preparedness for approaching storms. Today's humans have a highly overwhelmed sense of smell. Thick exhaust, pesticides, herbicides, industrial pollution, and toxic nerve-damaging artificial scents found in perfumes, hair care, and personal care products, as well as in laundry and cleaning products all tax our olfactory receptors.
The ‘original ears' listened for predators, rushing water, bird calls, thunder, the rumble of earthquakes, wind, insects, and their child’s cry. Now our ears listen to cell phones, TVs, MP3 players, computers, radios, sirens, horns, traffic, appliances, and less and less to our children and the birds. Less and less to each other.
The eyes of early humans were constantly moving in all directions in the forest or on a vast plain, and their range of focus repeatedly moved in and out from the horizon to the path in front of them. Now our eyes stare dry and unblinking at computers, cell phones, and TV screens, or we watch endless miles of highway and concrete through our car windshields. Shopping centers and other buildings obscure our view of the greater world, our greater vision. We need ‘vision quests’ more than ever.
Early people had a sense of taste that followed the seasons as food sources ebbed and flowed. Now, many of us don't even know where our food comes from, other than a supermarket. Our food is often saturated with artificial flavors, unknown chemicals, hormones, pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, antibiotics, radiation, refined sugar, and ‘secret’ deadly flavor enhancers and preservatives.
However, it still is within our nature to hunger for the Living Earth. It's hardwired into us. We long to connect to the many facets of ourselves that we've forgotten. And yet, we often don't know what these facets are.
The memory of what we long for may have faded, but the longing never goes.
We often have no idea why we feel depressed, dissatisfied, or in a constant state of anxiety, and fear. We can feel restless, unhappy, listless, emotionally dead, and not know why. We hunger, but our hunger is often misplaced. We have forgotten that our hunger is connected to a very real need.
We cannot live without Nature, not physically, emotionally or spiritually. Cutting ourselves off from Nature is akin to cutting a large part of our brains from our bodies and expecting our lives to continue with gusto. We might continue, but we would become like the walking dead, unable to live with great vitality and wonder.
Nature is our Extended Self, a vitally important part of our whole self. Without nature, we are not whole. We are limited in mind, body, and spirit. Without nature, our worldview is often confined to the narrow walls of our own body and conditioned mind. We are much more than that.
We are not only everything within us, but literally everything around us. Inseparable.
Many of us have grown to fear nature: the woods, the water, the wind and rain, and even our own bare feet. At least we think it's nature we fear.
When I first went to live in the Australian rainforest at the age of twenty-five, I thought I feared the potentially poisonous snakes, paralysis ticks, the stinging trees, the poisonous jellyfish in the sea, and more. However, as I educated myself about these beings—their needs, territories, and habits—and as I learned of the integral place they hold within the forest and sea, I realized that I held a much deeper fear.
All my life I lived in fear. I spent most of my days in school, cut off from nature. I grew up in a culture predominately segregated from nature. My social conditioning taught me that humans are separate from nature, that we are more intelligent than nature, that we have more right to exist than any other species, that we are superior in every way, and that nature is to be used, controlled, and even killed.
My culture taught me that humans hold dominion over everything on Planet Earth, everything in existence, even the vast, mysterious stars.
In the rainforest, surrounded by vibrant life, my soul inherently knew its right place. Within that rightness, I saw the lie for what it was. I'd lived my whole life disconnected from life-giving Earth. The Living Earth: my most intimate source of sustenance, healing, and love.
All organisms, including humans, have a fundamental fear of being cut off from their Source. That too is hardwired into us to ensure our survival. Without our Source, we cannot sustain life, just as a baby cannot survive without adult care. My first recognition of my ‘Source’ started with nature's unconditional love, her total acceptance of me, without any judgment.
In the wild, I learned very early on that judgment is a human condition. Nature does not judge or lie.
For me to leave the ranks of human superiority and dominion, and immerse myself in nature, on nature's terms, put me right back into the food chain. Like all life in the forest, I too had to be aware if I wanted to survive. With this awareness, I began to appreciate the survival skills and determination of other species. I was no longer the arrogant human, but rather the humble student desperately needing to learn. I began to appreciate the immense gift of all life.
Spend time with Nature. Sit in the woods, or by a stream, or in a city park, or in your own backyard. Take time to observe, and do so without your cell phone, computer, TV, Kindle, iPod, or radio. Simply ‘be with’ nature. If you can do this, you will absorb and download nature's original programming, a program so extensively ancient that it is filled with billions of years of the most intelligent code going. This Intelligence can reprogram us until we are fully aligned with the natural world around us.
The more time we spend with nature feeling, touching, tasting, smelling, listening, and sensing, the more we are able to download nature's critical information. This ancient download wants to speak to us, wants to strengthen our bodies, minds, and spirits, as well as spark our creativity and our return to perpetual healing and connection. Nature wants to love us.
(c) Robin Easton