Letter 4

Ten Love Letters to the Earth

by Thich Nhat Hahn

IV

Your Stability, Patience, and Inclusiveness

Dear Mother Earth,

You are this infinitely beautiful blue planet, fragrant, cool, and kind. Your immeasurable patience and endurance makes you a great bodhisattva. Even though we’ve made many mistakes, you always forgive us. Every time we return to you, you are ready to open your arms and embrace us.

Whenever I am unstable, every time I lose touch with myself, or am lost in forgetfulness, sadness, hatred, or despair, I know I can come back to you. Touching you, I can find a refuge; I can reestablish my peace and regain my joy and self-confidence. You love, protect, and nurture all of us without discrimination.

You have an immense capacity to embrace, handle, and transform everything that is cast at you, whether it be great asteroids, refuse and filth, poisonous fumes, or radioactive waste. Time helps you to do this, and your history has shown that you always succeed, even if it takes millions of years. You were able to reestablish equilibrium after the devastating collision that created the moon and have endured at least five mass extinctions, reviving yourself every time. You have an extraordinary capacity to renew, transform, and heal yourself—and also us, your children.

I have faith in your great power of healing. My faith comes from my own observation and experience, not from something others have told me to believe. That’s why I know I can take refuge in you. As I walk, sit, and breathe, I can surrender myself to you, trust wholly in you, and allow you to heal me. I know I don’t have to do anything at all. I can simply relax, release all the tension in my body, and all the fears and worries in my mind. Whether I’m sitting or walking, lying down or standing, I allow myself to take refuge in you, and allow myself to be held and healed by you. I entrust myself to you, Mother Earth. Each one of us needs a place of refuge, but we may not know how to find it or how to get there. Looking deeply today, I can see that my true home, my true place of refuge is you, my beloved planet. I take refuge in you, Mother Earth. I do not have to go anywhere to find you; you are already in me and I am already in you.

Dear Mother, each time I sit in stillness on your Earth, I will be aware that because you are in me, I can embody your wonderful qualities: of solidity, perseverance, patience, and forbearance; of depth, endurance, and stability; of great courage, non-fear, and inexhaustible creativity. I vow to practice wholeheartedly to realize these qualities, knowing that you have already sown these potentials as seeds in the soil of my heart and mind.

Letter 3

Ten Love Letters to the Earth

by Thich Nhat Hahn

III

Walking Tenderly on Mother Earth

Dear Mother Earth,

Every time I step upon the Earth, I will train myself to see that I am walking on you, my Mother. Every time I place my feet on the Earth I have a chance to be in touch with you and with all your wonders. With every step I can touch the fact that you aren’t just beneath me, dear Mother, but you are also within me. Each mindful and gentle step can nourish me, heal me, and bring me into contact with myself and with you in the present moment.

Walking in mindfulness I can express my love, respect, and care for you, our precious Earth. I will touch the truth that mind and body are not two separate entities. I will train myself to look deeply to see your true nature: you are my loving mother, a living being, a great being—an immense, beautiful, and precious wonder. You are not only matter, you are also mind, you are also consciousness. Just as the beautiful pine or tender grain of corn possess an innate sense of knowing, so, too, do you. Within you, dear Mother Earth, there are the elements of Earth, water, air and fire; and there is also time, space, and consciousness. Our nature is your nature, which is also the nature of the cosmos.

I want to walk gently, with steps of love and with great respect. I shall walk with my own body and mind united in oneness. I know I can walk in such a way that every step is a pleasure, every step is nourishing, and every step is healing—not only for my body and mind, but also for you, dear Mother Earth. You are the most beautiful planet in our entire solar system. I do not want to run away from you, dear Mother, nor to hurry. I know I can find happiness right here with you. I do not need to rush to find more conditions for happiness in the future. At every step I can take refuge in you. At every step I can enjoy your beauties, your delicate veil of atmosphere and the miracle of gravity. I can stop my thinking. I can walk relaxingly and effortlessly. Walking in this spirit I can experience awakening. I can awaken to the fact that I am alive, and that life is a precious miracle. I can awaken to the fact that I am never alone and can never die. You are always there within me and around me at every step, nourishing me, embracing me, and carrying me far into the future.

Dear Mother, you wish that we live with more awareness and gratitude, and we can do this by generating the energies of mindfulness, peace, stability, and compassion in our daily lives. Therefore I make the promise today to return your love and fulfill this wish by investing every step I take on you with love and tenderness. I am walking not merely on matter, but on spirit.

Letter 2

This is the second in a series of ten letters written by Thich Nhat Hahn expressing his love of Earth. We hope you find comfort and stirring reminders in his words. 

Ten Love Letters to the Earth

by Thich Nhat Hahn

II

Your Wonder, Beauty and Creativity

Dear Mother Earth,

Each morning when I wake up you offer me twenty-four brand new hours to cherish and enjoy your beauty. You gave birth to every miraculous form of life. Your children include the clear lake, the green pine, the pink cloud, the snowcapped mountain top, the fragrant forest, the white crane, the golden deer, the extraordinary caterpillar, and every brilliant mathematician, skilled artisan, and gifted architect. You are the greatest mathematician, the most accomplished artisan, and the most talented architect of all. The simple branch of cherry blossoms, the shell of a snail, and the wing of a bat all bear witness to this amazing truth. My deep wish is to live in such a way that I am awake to each of your wonders and nourished by your beauty. I cherish your precious creativity and I smile to this gift of life.

We humans have talented artists, but how can our paintings compare to your masterpiece of the four seasons? How could we ever paint such a compelling dawn or create a more radiant dusk? We have great composers, but how can our music compare to your celestial harmony with the sun and planets—or to the sound of the rising tide? We have great heroes and heroines who have endured wars, hardship, and dangerous voyages, but how can their bravery compare to your great forbearance and patience along your hazardous journey of eons? We have many great love stories, but who among us has love as immense as your own, embracing all beings without discrimination?

Dear Mother, you have given birth to countless buddhas, saints, and enlightened beings. Shakyamuni Buddha is a child of yours. Jesus Christ is the son of God, and yet he is also the son of Man, a child of the Earth, your child. Mother Mary is also a daughter of the Earth. The Prophet Mohammed is also your child. Moses is your child. So too are all the bodhisattvas. You are also mother to eminent thinkers and scientists who have made great discoveries, investigating and understanding not only our own solar system and Milky Way, but even the most distant galaxies. It’s through these talented children that you are deepening your communication with the cosmos. Knowing that you have given birth to so many great beings, I know that you aren’t mere inert matter, but living spirit. It’s because you’re endowed with the capacity of awakening that all your children are too. Each one of us carries within ourself the seed of awakening, the ability to live in harmony with our deepest wisdom—the wisdom of interbeing.

But there are times when we have not done so well. There are times when we have not loved you enough; times when we have forgotten your true nature; and times when we have discriminated and treated you as something other than ourself. There have even been times when, through ignorance and unskillfulness, we have underestimated, exploited, wounded, and polluted you. That is why I make the deep vow today, with gratitude and love in my heart, to cherish and protect your beauty, and to embody your wondrous consciousness in my own life. I vow to follow in the footsteps of those who have gone before me, to live with awakening and compassion, and so be worthy of calling myself your child.

Letter 1

Thich Nhat Hanh wrote a series of love letters to the earth. In honor of his beautiful connection to all life, we would like to share each letter with you one by one for pause and reflection between each. If you don’t know them, we hope they become favorites and if you do know them, we hope something fresh comes your wise way in rereading. 

Ten Love Letters to the Earth

by Thich Nhat Hahn

I

Beloved Mother of All Things

Dear Mother Earth,

I bow my head before you as I look deeply and recognize that you are present in me and that I’m a part of you. I was born from you and you are always present, offering me everything I need for my nourishment and growth. My mother, my father, and all my ancestors are also your children. We breathe your fresh air. We drink your clear water. We eat your nourishing food. Your herbs heal us when we’re sick.

You are the mother of all beings. I call you by the human name Mother and yet I know your mothering nature is more vast and ancient than humankind. We are just one young species of your many children. All the millions of other species who live—or have lived—on Earth are also your children. You aren’t a person, but I know you are not less than a person either. You are a living breathing being in the form of a planet.

Each species has its own language, yet as our Mother you can understand us all. That is why you can hear me today as I open my heart to you and offer you my prayer.

Dear Mother, wherever there is soil, water, rock or air, you are there, nourishing me and giving me life. You are present in every cell of my body. My physical body is your physical body, and just as the sun and stars are present in you, they are also present in me. You are not outside of me and I am not outside of you. You are more than just my environment. You are nothing less than myself.

I promise to keep the awareness alive that you are always in me, and I am always in you. I promise to be aware that your health and well-being is my own health and well-being. I know I need to keep this awareness alive in me for us both to be peaceful, happy, healthy, and strong.

Sometimes I forget. Lost in the confusions and worries of daily life, I forget that my body is your body, and sometimes even forget that I have a body at all. Unaware of the presence of my body and the beautiful planet around me and within me, I’m unable to cherish and celebrate the precious gift of life you have given me. Dear Mother, my deep wish is to wake up to the miracle of life. I promise to train myself to be present for myself, my life, and for you in every moment. I know that my true presence is the best gift I can offer to you, the one I love.

Widening Circles

A poem by Rainer Maria Rilke

Widening circles

I live my life in widening circles

that reach out across the world.

I may not complete this last one

but I will give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.

I’ve been circling for thousands of years

and still I don’t know: am I a falcon,

a storm, or a great song?

A Necessary Winter

We know the winter of Earth as a regular experience. We expect it and prepare for the season though we may not all enjoy the cold and darkness. We have holidays, sweaters, fires, and warm drinks to comfort us along the way. Many of us create a traditional or improvised hearth in our homes to welcome family and friends as additional cheer.

Winter can be felt as more than a seasonal affair for the planet. This post, written for you mid fall, comes alongside reflection on how Jessica and I have allowed a winter in our friendship on more than one occasion. If you’re new to the blog, we are two long time friends who want to connect with you about showing up for life with as much presence and genuine positivity as we can without denying the full scope of our human experience.

We have been away from the blog for some time — a winter, if you a will. When chatting about this and if we wanted to let this space go or continue on, we remembered two distinct winters within our friendship when both of us were going through transitional time periods. When we returned to the friendship it involved a conscious decision to change our expectations around relating through different chapters of life. It also involved a total drop of ego to reach out again after a gap in communication. If you want to restart and/or maintain a friendship (whatever the distance), someone has to take the initiative of reaching out with heartfelt communication to let the other know they’re important to you and that you appreciate having them in your life.

In hindsight Jess and I know that taking big breathers (at one point a year without communication) meant not holding the other to a certain way of being based on what had been. It meant we were allowing decomposition of the old which can be sad, scary, and lonely. We have experienced its potential and beauty though collectively we are not taught to do this intentionally and I can say we were not consciously intentional at the time.

The first winter was in our late teens to early 20s after I had become part of a significant romantic relationship and Jessica had explorations to undertake that were quite different than anything we had been doing together. (Ask her about skydiving sometime.) The second winter was in our mid to late 20s with becoming a mother for me and adjusting to a new life in another part of the country for Jess as she committed to the man that is her husband today. It could seem that these are times when you want to hold a steady connection with your dear friend, but sometimes the opposite is what’s needed most – to let go- to let space do its thing.

Winter is important and necessary. You may even spy small winters within your daily cohabitation with another person and you may witness it with creative projects too. Allowing space for nothingness also allows space for new seeds to grow into new ways of relating, fresh ideas, as well as to appreciate what has changed.

As we work our way back into sharing here with you, we bring along our new ways of being since we last posted. Jessica has spent the time away training as a yoga therapist and is now living in a new location with her family. I have spent the time becoming a certified wellness coach, sound healing facilitator, and teacher of kundalini infused movement and meditation practices. We are looking forward to sharing with you in this next season!

With deep gratitude for you all — Valerie 💫

Mirror

MIRROR PIECE

Instead of obtaining a mirror,
obtain a person.
Look into him.
Use different people.
Old, young, fat, small, etc.

1964 spring

Grapefruit by Yoko Ono

What would happen if you interacted with others as a reflection of you?

What would you notice?

What would you want to see more of and what would you change?

Sending you lots of love in the experience of this exercise. 💕✨

Enlighten

“Enlightenment… a daily practice of being a source of light for oneself and others at any given moment.”

– Enlightened Bodies by Nirmal Lumpkin & Japa Kaur Khalsa

What a wonderful obtainable definition of enlightenment! The practice of living as a source of light is inclusive. Anyone can do this with awareness. It’s not about hurdles or climbing mountains or standing on your head — though, those things may shake up the external environment for you to consider your internal world differently. Living with present moment awareness that you are a light in this world, is enough. You, dear one, are more than enough.

A guided exercise with voice and supportive instrumentation to assist in anchoring light within your being:

Golden Light Guidance

7-8 minutes / Headphones recommended

Photo by spemone on Pexels.com

Contentment

After a meditation class on the last breath we all will encounter, I had a short love affair with a dead leaf. ☺️ The shadows at play with sunlight in this fallen leaf were far more captivating and the Sun, himself, more beautiful than ever.

Death talks or meditation on your final breath could feel uncomfortable to you. The same could also lead you to feel a lot more gratitude for the moment at hand. Reverence for the entire life experience can bring you a deeper sense of connection and not stemming out of fear but of wonder, humility, and expansive contentment with the present —-

Do not take contentment as stagnancy, this is the kind of contentment that radiates from your being and fills your cheeks with lifted aliveness, the contentment that leads you to feel and do more with the moment before you because your attention is not pulled in any other direction. This moment is all you crave.

Worth Words

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud 

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.