How does it feel when someone really listens to you? Does it have a name, can it be located in your body? When listening is acknowledged as something valueable in itself, when listening gets its own character, its own purpose.
The sacred art of listening. I had a conversation with some cows today. The most beautiful cows, young and strong, and curious. Cows are the greatest teachers, the wisest masters. Have you ever rested your head against the side of a cow, sinking into her patient understanding? Have you ever looked deep into her eyes and heard what she had to say?
The cows I met today told me they miss us. They miss us. That was their simple message. And with that, they reached all the way into my heart, into the bittersweet memories running through my blood, into the stinging sensations of lost oneness in my flesh, while they saw me fall down on my knees. To be separated, to be hurting, alone. They miss us.
Every day has a thousand possibilities for a heart broken open.
Break, break, break. I miss you, too.
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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