I got my running shoes on and rushed outside to make a phone call. She didn't pick up, so I turned around even before I reached past my mailbox and started rushing back in again, already busy with what I could do next, choosing from a long list of things I should have done, some things I could do and in between also some things I'd love to do. Halfway back to the house I hesitated for the smallest of seconds. A distinct sound made me stop in my tracks. Then I noticed the first bumblebee. How wonderful, I thought, as I started walking again. But I couldn't. I jumped out of my body, got a dirty shovel and hit myself hard enough in my head so that I would sit down on the grass and shut up. And that's what I did. Then I noticed the second bumblebee. And the third. How wonderful, I thought, without moving this time. The sound came back. The bumblebees. What a sound they make! Fixed on a ground covered with white clover, I realized I was completely surrounded by hordes of deliciously furry small buzzing creatures, all completely immersed in their nectar-drinking business. They were absolutely everywhere, creating this earthly choir of start and stop and chopping wood and carrying water. I felt spellbound, I started swaying, back and forth, back and forth. What a sensous joy, what an incredible smorgasbord of stretched time. I could not get myself away from it. And then, when I thought I could, a lonely bee jumped in, right in front of me. Now, if the bumblebees are queens, this bee was Marilyn Monroe. She took her time, all right. Sitting down on each plant like a lady, going through every part of the flower, slowly and deliberately. Not only did she make sure nothing was missed, it was as if she was licking her fingers, too, enjoying every buzzing moment as was it her last. And then, with no regrets, she was done and flew off to her next lover. What a treat, what a show. What a life. Teachers everywhere. Dancers, too. Zen masters and alluring beauties alike. What a treat. What a life.
This is a calling to slow down and listen. To take a deep breath and explore our personal connection with Mother Earth. The feminine and masculine, the beautiful and dirty, the real, the messy, the sacred. Once it was natural. Today it feels crucial.
For the next 100 Days I will write a book to the Earth. For the Earth. With the Earth. The book, and the journey, is also to you. For you. And with you. Together, we are everything.
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