I wanted to write about questions and answers and mankind's infatuating hunger for right and wrong opinions, but I quickly discovered how bad I feel from the ailments of just that. Opinions. I could not give a flying fuck about your opinions. In my relatively short life, I have yet to meet any fox, any bat or any fish that gives a rat's ass about human opinion. If you stumble upon a sorry poodle who actually cares, please let me know. What is your opinion on life? Has it served your expectations so far? Well, opinionate this – how does life feel like? Have you ever tried to understand your opponent, or even better, have you ever tried to engage in a deep dialogue with your opponent, or even better, have you ever tried to be silent together with your opponent? If you hug someone you fear, and you stay embraced for what is only a minute yet feels like a lifetime, if you hug someone you really do not like, someone you detest or at least strongly disagree with, or even someone you hate, if you hug them long enough for your body to slowly start providing you with answers, very different answers, if you quietly and honestly give them a hug. What do you think that would do to your opinions? Both your breaths slowing down. The heartbeat of a fellow human echoing in your chest. Holding and being held. Holding and being held.
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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