I hugged a tree today. We embraced eachother, listening to eachother's pulse. As I was breathing in every nuance of tree life, I suddenly became self-aware and afraid of being seen. What would they think? A grown man hugging a tree?
This morning I got up from bed, grabbed a towel and stumbled down to the sea. Without a fiber of clothing on my body I dove down into the salty waters, and for a couple of seconds I could feel the element surrounding me completely, touching every last bit of the part of me I call my body without any shyness whatsoever. Ah, the sea. Ah, my body. What a delight, what an experience! Have you ever had an orgasm? And another one? And a different one? Have you ever felt the universe fold itself out inside of your spine, leaving you weightless and shaking from laughter? I feel defenseless against waves of shame and judgement running through me, but why, why would I stop there, when life has so much more on my plate?
To swim, to dance, to fuck, to laugh. To breathe deeply into every movement, every wave, regardless of how it looks. To get enticingly intimate with everything that comes and goes, and the vast fields of gold stretching out beyond my knowing. I love, I love, I love to hug trees. I love, I love, I love my body, all bodies, our softness, our hardness, our boundless learning. Ah, the sea. Ah, my body.
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.
Use #FortheEarth to share and, please, add your story.