Dear Mother Earth,
How are you? (It’s been a while, I know.)
I apologize for being so distant lately. I admit, I’ve been feeling a bit disconnected over the years. Too much time within four concrete walls I suppose.
The thing is, I thought I was appreciating you. I have a painting of flowers hanging over my desk and everything. But…when I saw you today, I realized how much I’ve missed you.
You do something funny to me. Even after all this time.
You make me smile, even if I’m having a terrible day.
You make me slow down, even if I’m in a hurry.
You make time stop and my heart grow ten times bigger than I thought it ever could. You fill me with awe and gratitude. I realized today that I love you, truly and deeply.
I passed one of your trees today, and my heart felt like it would leap clear out of my chest. I wanted to stop and inspect every little detail. Do you know how many leaves you put on that tree? (Of course you do.) It’s incredible!
I thought so fondly of summers from my youth, running through your woods. You made me cry the happiest tears.
When I looked at your sky today, I felt expansive and peaceful. (How do you do that?)
Today, you reminded me how to breathe.
All I wanted to do was sit in your grass and inhale all the hopes and prayers of everyone else looking at your sky at that moment.
You surprised me with rain today, and it was glorious. I thought of your raindrops watering your flowers, filling your oceans, and carving your mountains. And as if that weren’t magical enough, you gave me a rainbow. Like a kiss on the head.
You filled me with love today, Mother Earth. But I have to tell you, my heart was breaking, too.
You see…I saw that new parking lot where your forest used to be, and I thought about the chemicals drifting through your air and water.
Just as I can imagine no greater reverence than that for the life you make possible, I can also imagine few things that leave me feeling as small as I do when I see what we’re doing to you.
I thought today, here I am a speck on a speck in a speck in the universe, and felt pulled between the amazement at the vastness that is you and the grief over the magnitude of one speck’s footprint.
I felt alone, lost, and ineffective.
I could have been swept away in it my shame, but you stood by me. You tousled my hair and wrapped around my skin. You whispered in my ear with your birds and breeze.
You’re counting on us, no question. But you believe in us, too. In me and my Earthling siblings. We’re in this together.
So, I wanted you to know that from this day forward, I will repay your love with love. Not with shame. Not with denial. Not with blame. Only love.
I will tell at least one person today about my plan to learn more about you and how I can help. I will tell at least one other person today about how I will show you my appreciation.
I will send my wishes for well-being and vitality to my brothers and sisters on land and sea.
I will make one small decision today, and another tomorrow, and another on each day after that to help keep you healthy, safe, and clean.
I will be one of your brave raindrops that helps to fill your sea, and I will find the other raindrops so that together we may start a storm.
I don’t have much more than love to offer you, but I offer it with no question. May I share that love fully, and may that love be what you keep from me.
Love always.
To my fellow raindrops, if you feel called to show your love to Mother Earth, consider one concrete thing you could do and one person you could tell. @ralph_leslie (Click to Tweet!)
Looking for ideas? Want to donate your time or money? Here are a few places to get started:
Leslie Ralph is a psychologist, writer, and artist who hopes to leave the world a little brighter than she found it. Her people are creative spirits, soul-searchers, and big-hearted dreamers that crave love and peace, inside and out. Download her free ritual for receiving for inviting in more love, peace, and healing so you can remember your true gifts and do real, good work for this world. You can follow Leslie on Facebook or Instagram.
Image courtesy of Celeste Horrocks.
