The first Earth Day observed was on my third birthday. It's an ethereal connection I'd not thought hard about until this year. Earth Day is 50.
My dad called me tonight. He always calls on my birthday. He asked me if I thought we will learn the lessons we're meant to when it's time to reconnect.
I honestly have no idea what lies ahead.
Am I supposed to? Are any of us supposed to?
We're used to knowing, planning and forecasting.
But it's time to listen.
"If we listen from the place of connection to the Spirit That Lives in All Things, Mother Earth teaches what we need to know to take care of her and all her children. All are provided by our mother, the Earth." (From Assembly of First Nations)
There has been much suffering. There has been so much sorrow. There has been so much injustice. There has been greed. There has been loneliness. And there has been despair.
Mother Earth has been tired. So very tired.
Many have tried to protect and honour her but even that has polarized us. Imagine having one child fighting to protect you from harm and another rolling the dice on your expiry date, while spending their inheritance.
All I know is, she won't last forever. And of course, neither will we.
Have we learned anything through this pandemic? Have we changed habits? Have we taken a breath?
Each day seems new; a new policy; a new funding announcement; a new death toll; a new prediction; a new normal.
Will there be a 'new normal'? And will it stick?
I hold out hope.
Feverish wander under a black sky,
Doors close in an angry boil,
Carrying the burden of emotional tax.
I hear the quake in the centre of you,
The noise settles in the grace of your suffering,
Social gap, common purpose,
Longing to connect in grief.
Radiating through armour's steel,
Yearn no more,