To Still And To Slow

I feel that so many of us at this time are receiving an enormous recalibration, as though there were an imperative for us all to slow and to still and to enter into the threshold space that exists between the hard matter of our own certainty, and the infinite realms of the spirit and its manifestation as the nature of our Mother the Earth. It feels as though there is an invitation at play, to step outside of the timescape of the world, with its frenetic haste and unending imperative to strive and to produce, and instead there feels to be an opportunity to access another realm of body time or soul time, an experience more akin to the timescape of our planet as apposed to the superimposed impossibility of our modern acculturation. 

So many of us are so tired and have never learnt to rest, so many burnt out and in adrenal exhaustion, unable to keep up with the ask of our time. I believe the Earth needs us to become much more articulate in the languages of love and care, of kindness, tenderness and trust. Revolutionary it feels, to begin to learn the sweet art of leaning into the discomfort of our fear about not being enough, not doing enough, not producing enough, just leaning and waiting to see if the world does truly collapse if we step back a little from the demands and imperatives to never cease in our toil to become something magnificent, to own something magnificent, to create something magnificently sought after. 

I feel the whimsically whispered possibilities that maybe there might be enough for us all, already, after all, just as we are, even as we become less and less, and rest more and more, and move more deeply from a place of aligned purpose rather than harried mania. Do we not already have all that we need, are we not already almightily magnificent enough, just as we are, regaled in all our glorious flaws and decorative shortcomings? 

I'm not sure that we can heal our damage to the earth from a place of manic action, I feel like we might need to do some deep soul healing on our own selves before we can find the answer our Earth is asking of us. I think it might have something to do with speaking less and listening more, doing less and feeling more, and slipping through, at every chance, the space between the timescapes of interdimensional becoming. 

It might have something to do also with leaning into the grief and horror and despair that keeps us all running so fast. I wonder in fact, if the salvation of our kind upon this earth, might just spontaneous emerge, as the unsought after gift, the enlightening, that materialises as the ballast, to our capacity to feel our own darkness and pain. 

Image and text © Lucy Pierce 2017