Day 82 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


What a strange thought to believe in, this, to look at nature over there and me, myself, over here. What an intricate web of restraining ideas, a catastrophic mistake that keeps us falling, when the truth is here, the truth is we are all here. Now. What is truth, what is truth, who cares what truth is when our Mother, the Earth, is waiting for us to return to love?

What a strange world to live in. What a strange life to live. Even when the old ideas are nothing but faint memories, we human beings still hold on, knuckles white and grinding teeth. Why this blatant fear, why resist, why resist, why resist when a wave is a wave that will not break? 

My Mother, My Mother, why have I forsaken You? With the bones of my chest ripped wide open, I lay down to rest at your feet. Take me, hold me, please forgive me. Take me, hold me, please forgive me. 
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/KIUKO)

Day 81 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


I fall back to the ocean
Releasing my will to the sea
To let go
To hold on
To let go
To feel my body of salt
Stories of purpose
Wet whispers
To let go
To hold on
To let go
To lay still and be moved
Remembering my home
Waves of promise
To let go
To hold on
To let go
To see the sky from below
Grateful in the middle
My hands are open
To let go
To hold on
To let go



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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Will Folsom)

Day 80 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

I hold in my hands an ancient pain. Like a blunt knife between our ribs it is passed on to every living man, a legacy served in silence from one generation to the next. Can I break the deal I once signed? Can I admit that I am afraid? 

It has been a long time since we broke the balance. Was it fear back then, too? Although there may be many things to regret, the pain does not stem from remorse as much as from the diseases caused by the imbalance itself. It hurts to be a man when being a man means compensating for fear. What were we afraid of? What are we afraid of? 

When my body explodes from the inside out in furious anger battered out on my children, I am afraid. When I use the wounds from my childhood as excuses for creating enemies, I am afraid. When I turn to violence, when I turn to porn and drugs, sugar and irony, distance and hate — when I turn to all those things that I so intensely crave to fill up my dark and empty holes, I am afraid. But most of all I am afraid when I do not know what to do. When the truth is that I feel helpless. 

Can I stand still and naked in front of a woman? In front of a man? 

I hold in my hands an ancient pain. Stumbling, I try to find language for it, healing for it, light for it. I stumble trying to find balance. But I try. I get back up. My heart tells me long hidden secrets of what once was and what once again will be. You could say we abandoned balance, but balance never abandoned us. It was always there. And so in the moment we turn to what always was, the feminine and the masculine will join hands in a sensuous, yearning dance. 

I hold in my hands the most beautiful memory. Now is the time to remember.


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/seier+seier)

Day 79 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


I am a seedling. Naked and vulnerable I stretch my body out for the first time. I carry inside of me the possibility of the greatest of forests, although right now I will break at the slightest mistrust. That is why I need you. I need you to see me for what I am. And for what I will become. To protect me and care for me, to stand your ground and hold the space for me, but most of all to show up and witness how I evolve. When the time is there, I will share with you my fruits, when the time is there we will grow together. Now is the time for patience and love. Anything else, you know, will kill me. There is no fruit, there is no tree, there is no shadow in which your body can rest in. There is only an unspoken promise, a faint whisper, noticeable only if you let the memory of your own unfolding show you the way. Patience and love. Patience and love. Can you feel the promise, can you hear the whisper? Can you trust me for one moment more? 

 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Ray_from_LA)

Day 78 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

Photo: Birgitta Eva Hollander


I am human. I stand with my feet on the ground and I say I am not Norwegian. Not Scandinavian. Not European. I am not white. Not Christian. I am no organization or party, no ideology or direction. I am not my background, my upbringing, my parents or my education. I am not the neighbourhood I live in, nor the clothes I walk around in. I am not my choices. Not my failures. Not my successes. I am not what you think of me and I am not what I think of me. I am not these words. And I am not alone.

I am human. I am natural. I was born to my Mother, the Earth and to her I will return. I am here. Alive. And not alone.

I was born free. Freedom is the natural state of being alive and in balance. My ultimate reason for being here is to experience myself as alive and free. I stand with my feet on the ground and I say I will never give up until every aspect of me experiences itself as alive and free. Every aspect.

I am human. I am woven from the same fabric as everything else. As I breathe, so does the sky and the swallows and the worms and the apples and the wounded soldiers and the farmer's children. As you breathe, I breathe. Alive and free. Every aspect of us. Every aspect.

Freedom is the only option.

Freedom. I am.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 77 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


3 Angles of Love

1. The two kisses I will never forget. In the moments after our two children were resting naked on your breast for the first time. Your lips against mine, salty, shivering and warm. Your lips like something to hold on to in the long, angelic minutes of complete weightlessness, a grounding, a relief, a moment painted on the wall of time as a reminder of what our bodies always knew. Our tears, our laughter, our lips. 

2. You stay. You are my greatest teacher. You stay. Not because you are afraid. Not because you could not find someone else in a heartbeat, not because you are spinning in a romantic or dogmatic story of what love is or should be. I feel you stay because you truly love me. But you also stay because you are one of the fiercest, bravest human beings I know. Because staying with someone else means first and foremost staying with oneself. Because you witness the ups and the downs, the dirty fights, the bottomless, dark despair, the hurricane of life, and you stay. You say yes to the dark, as you also say yes to the light. That is love. Behind everything that comes and goes, you are. I am so grateful, so grateful to have met you there.

3. There is so much I do not know about you. I love your mystery, I love that I will never completely understand. The overwhelming feeling of recognition, of knowing you, of having travelled through many lifetimes together, our souls doing cartwheels of pure joy and celebration. Like when we dance together, you and I. Imagine, after so many lives, so much learning, so much growing, we still do not really know how to dance together! I love to feel awkward, stepping on your toes. I love the space, the respect, the way our life is a dance. There is so much I do not know about you. My feminine guide, my muse. I love you.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 76 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


Today I am grateful for the sweet raspberries. I am grateful for good sleep and the privilege of waking up safely. I bow to my whole family with whom I share the space on this planet. Everything connected to everything else, every intrinsic detail I depend on to take another breath. I am grateful for my great-grandfather, the man who depressed and tired left everything behind to lay down and die in the forest. As he was waiting for life to pour out of him, he could suddenly listen. He first heard the wind playing with the aspen leaves. Then he heard the birds. Laying on the ground, he found himself so filled up and supported by nature around him and inside of him that he chose life. Or life chose him. 

I am grateful for every moment I can let go of what I know and be alive. Carried. Filled. Supported. I am grateful for being here, for every breath, every aspen leaf. For every smile. And for every sweet, red berry melting in my mouth.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 75 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


There is so much confusion. So much fear, terror, panic. Cities are burning, planes are falling, children are dying. When I watch the news I feel so helpless, like a little boy awake at night, searching for my mother. Alone. I feel alone and lost and disconnected. And I worry. How will this go? Why are we here? Who are these people crying out for war, war and more war and why, why do they never stop?

And the river is still there. The trees leaning with their heavy branches over the water. I breathe, I reluctantly turn to my steady breath. If I give it the time and support it needs – what does my body say?

I know what I need to be peace. So I start with myself. I breathe. My bare feet find their way to the ground. Of all the reasons, I seek towards the feminine first, towards my mother, the earth, for I know the part of me that is her will always give me the wisdom my actions so direly need. My hands touch the grass and I breathe her in. I listen. That is what I do, my first bold move. I listen.

Dear river, dear fear. Come together tonight, for I carry you both in my heart. I look at my own war and I hold my helpless self. As I breathe and breathe and show up for the life inside of me, I open my eyes and I see all my relations. My family. My home. And the river is still there.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 74 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

 

Every breath an offering. 
Every act a service.
Every moment a possibility.
Every day we remember more.

And the great love turns to us.

 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/legends2k)

Day 73 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

The moment you stop running. The moment you stop running away from your greatest gifts. The moment you stop running away from everything you always knew you had to do. The moment you stop running away from your painted pictures of pain and misery. The moment you stop running away from joy, from talent, from purpose, from beauty, from yourself. The moment you stop running.

The moment where the moment itself is so significant you can only recognize it in hindsight, where all you get is still only a glimpse. All you know is the intense awareness filling your body, like when you can't shake the most vivid dream, as if your life suddenly got a new sound, an undertone or even a keynote, all you know is that everything is different and you can not and will not go back at any price. 

Because you see. You look way behind the mirror and you see meaning, you see that  life has meaning. Your life. You see the parts of you holding you down, claiming your worthlessness in a bigger picture, you see the longing for love in these desperate actions and you see, yes, you see how you can provide love and let loose and open up and start giving. Because you see. You see the moment you stopped running away from your greatest gifts was also the moment you could start sharing them with life. With your family. Your friends. Your world. The moment you stop running. The moment you start sharing.


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Moyan Brenn)

Day 72 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


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.

Use #FortheEarth to share and, please, add your story.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/snowpeak)

Day 71 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


Because trees have been around for so long, they have picked up one or the other secret about us human beings. The first secret is that trees will tell you everything they know. Trees are not shy, in fact, they love to share from their abundant source of ancient knowledge. It makes them feel alive. Not so unlike us.

The second secret is about how you get the trees to share they knowledge. This one is easy. You ask them. If you do not know how to ask a tree for something, the best way is to pretend that you do. A secret in itself, this one is most often taught by cats. Cats always know what to do, simply because they know how to pretend. Anyway, approach the tree you want to talk to and do excactly what you would have done, if you had known what to do in the first place. Before you know it, you will be in your first (yeah, right) deep and profound conversation with a tree.

The third secret is about us. Normally, trees only tell you this secret when they feel you are ready. You are ready. 

From the moment you were born, the world surrounding started teaching you things about life. Everything was done with the best intentions and much of it can in different ways be true. However, you are not what you have been taught. You are not the stories of your life, the morals you have been given or the culture you have grown up in. You are not the wounds of your society and you are not obliged to compensate for them, you are not the person in your passport, not the number in the statistics. You are not an economic asset. Nor are you the choices you have made, the style you represent, the clothes you wear, the amounts you can take. You are not the stories of your life. These are merely teachings, things, stuff, useful in the same way a hammer can be used on a nail, while useless in the same way that a hammer can not possibly live a meaningful, thriving and social life inside the house it helped build. You are so ridiculously much more than what you have been told. Nevermind why you have been told what you have been told. Who cares, when the point is that you no longer need to believe it. You are ready. You can say NO while you endlessly love what has been. And then you can turn to yourself, to the vast, zealous fields that form a path towards who you really are, and say a loud and clear and powerful and beautiful YES.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Paloika)

Day 70 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


Where does life start? Where does it end? I look at the sea and ask myself of my origins. Who was I before I became me? The waves are never the same and always in motion. Like heartbeats in my ever-changing body, they reach out for the shore and think they are finished, just to return to a much greater experience. How does it feel like to be everything? Had I only known myself as the sea, I would constantly long for the rugged life of a wave. No matter how short or long, no matter if children are playing in me on calm summer day or the wild rain and the wind are tearing me apart in a cold November storm. Where does a wave start? Where does it end? I descend to the depths, to the dark, abysmal fields where I drink life from the source that gives it. I look at the sea. I came from the sea. I am the sea. 
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Tony Hisgett)

Day 69 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

One of my sons wanted to know what the horizon is. We were out on the sea in a small boat, with waves small enough for me to feel safe, yet big enough for him to feel really shaky. Our first cod was bleeding out in a bucket. My boy sitting closer to me than usual, while I handled the fishing rod. The horizon. I told him it's where heaven and earth meet. The earth is round and all that, sure, but most importantly, it's where heaven and earth meet. He looked at me and I looked at him and I could suddenly see the horizon in him, or him in it, as if the elements that make up my son were visible for a second, the sacred, passionate act of love that once was the seed for what I think of as him, the coming together of light and dark, of strength and vulnerability, of magic and logic. My son is my ultimate proof for heaven and earth coming together, something so ungraspably beautiful that I am lucky even to say I was there. But I was. And he was. And is. And always will be. Because the earth is round and as we move, the horizon moves with us. And within us. 

Out on the sea in a small boat. We caught one more cod. Then we went home, prepared the fish, fried it with olive oil and garlic and shared a great meal right here, at the place where heaven and earth meet.


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 68 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

Before I die I want to climb more trees.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 67 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

There is this one forest. I don't think we're ever alone and so I always speak to everything alive as I walk between the trees. I say my prayers, I thank them for their uplifting presense. The rocks, the moss, the crawling roots. The ants and the mice. The dragonflies. But also the ones with no names. All the beings invisible to human eyes. I've always known they are there, I practically grew up with them, and every time I connect, I change. 

I was in this one forest today. Unlike in other forests, when I'm in this one they speak back to me. Perhaps I simply listen here. Their energy is different, so different I find it almost impossible to convey their message in a language I know. They are so fast and so slow at the same time. So loving and so harsh. Playful, witty and light. Wise. 

This time we agreed I would write about them. Not too much, just to acknowledge their presence as teachers in my life. In the world. They are in nature and nature is everywhere. They have so much to give. We have so much to learn. All we need to do is listen.


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.

Love, Åsmund.

(Photo: Flickr/CC/Alexander Cahlenstein)

Day 66 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

To be born again and again. To be kissed by the moon and reminded how small I am, how large I am, how complete I am. How complete this moment is. It would be nothing without me. Nothing without you. To come into life. It is a birth, a scream, a firm voice saying 

We can do this
It is who we are


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 65 - 100 Days #FortheEarth


Do you remember? A careful hymn or a wild wind, another pulse hidden in your chest. Do you remember what it means to be human? What it means to be you? 

We women, we men, we forget. A condition we mistake for truth. For so long have we forgotten  so much. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it hurts. Yes, there is a unique sort of beauty to it.

There is a promise in the air. Where in your body do you feel it? Do not mistake it for hope. Even in the coldest, most freezing part of winter, we know for certain spring will come. Spring will come because it is winter. Do you remember? Do not mistake this promise for hope. Abandon all hope and go outside. The birds are awake. The world is green and bright and filled of light. I promise you, you will not be alone. Come outside, my friend. Come. Remember.
 


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 64 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

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It was a memory I didn't think I had. The sweetness, the fresh mesmeric crunch. How the carrot feels like in your hand when you rub off most of the soil, without a worry for the rest, the clean and healthy dirt that seems only right between my teeth. My boys could pull them up, and with a triumphant scream they ran around the garden with handfulls of orange gold held high above their heads. It brought me back to a time when I was the one running. I never liked the work that much, or at least that's the story I've kept telling myself, but more and more I surrender to how much I love it today. It's still hard work to like the work because, you know, there's so much distance to cover. That's the price for being human these days, I guess. Being numb is comfortable and a return to nature requires a motion going through and beyond what you think you know. I don't know. I really don't know. But I trust the carrot. The laughing children. The awakened senses and the memory I once again have.


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.

Love, Åsmund.

Day 63 - 100 Days #FortheEarth

I don't know what I am, but my teeth are sharp and I sense you are close. Come closer, please, I'm friendly at first. Say No and I stop, say Yes and open your eyes to the dark, for there is no light where I will take you, there is no time and there sure is no way back. What you will see is sound and ravishing movement. Your sound as we start to move, a long lost pattern of chaotic beauty, of stumbling and circling, of you hauling me closer, of me pushing you away, of us switching until we melt into the same, the same centrifugal force of claws in flesh and drops of salty blood on their way down to the earth. You take a deep breath and then another. Our hearts like heavy rain on the sea, we surrender to the waves and let them take us deep down into what we once knew. What we once were. What we still are. We don't return to the wild, we call upon the wild in us, and then we wait. We say Yes. And we start to move.


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.

Love, Åsmund.