On the weekend I listened to an interview with Oprah and Alicia Keys.
Oprah asked Alicia what her take on COVID-19 is; why she thinks this might be happening in the world? And Alicia said (in her gorgeous, velvety voice), “I think Mother Earth needed a break.”
I feel the same way.
Before the corona crisis hit, I planned on writing a blog series about shadow and light. It was a reaction to the many emails I’d been receiving from my community asking me if I thought there was more shadow in the world than ever before, or if we were just more focused on shadow.
In a section of the opening email in the series, I wrote:
“As I type this, I look up and out across the reserve, out across the trees, the scrubs, and rocks, which are foggy and sleepy with early morning light. I connect to the vibration of the reserve, then to the vibration of the earth plane. I can feel the strong, grounded energy of Mother Earth. But she’s weaker than she was before … and sadly, she grows weaker every day.”
The blog series was going to be about global warming and CRISPR gene editing, and how it’s changing the way we, as human beings, interact with Mother Earth and receive her energy. How Mother Earth can’t look after us like she used to, and how it’s affecting our health and well-being.
But COVID-19 hit. And the world was thrown into fear, panic, and chaos.
But … for me, something else happened at the same time: Mother Earth let out a big sigh of relief.
I felt her hit the pause button. I felt how she stalled, groaned, and sighed. How she telepathically said, “My dear human-children, I am here to serve you. To nourish your energy fields and chakras, to give life, to replenish. But now I must fend for myself … If you want me to hold out for you, I must hold out for myself.”
I don’t know about you, but since COVID-19, the natural world has started to regain some of its shimmer; some of its strength.
Without the constant parade of human bodies, minds, and feet upon many places on earth, Mother Earth seems to be recharging.
To me, the skies seem wider, more turquoise and white, dipping and shimmering and spreading further across the horizon.
The trees in my reserve are no longer groaning. They’re humming. And vibing. I’m watching them ripening in their green, dripping chi from their branches, which is falling onto rocks, leaves, the scrub, earth, returning to earth, earth soaking up the energy, manna from heaven. Mother Earth giving back onto herself again.
I’m watching flowers open to the sun and take in rays untainted, unpolluted by human thought or hurry, or by aeroplanes flying overhead. Delicate yellow and purple petals unfurling and rejoicing in the stillness. Stillness that is rarely given to flora when humans occupy this world.
As I type this, I look out over the reserve that I see from my office window, and I weep. I weep with joy. I weep in pain.
My human heart breaks for the earthquake-like events of the past months. For the deaths, the terror, the panic, the chaos, the pandemic. But Mother Earth and the planet needs to preserve.
It’s our home. She’s our home. She wants to keep being our home.
The shimmer is returning. She’s growing stronger every day.
with love,
Belinda
P.S. Missed some of my latest writings? Here they are! The Oak Tree – Is it You?, 5 Ways to Stay Secure & Strong Right Now, Waldeinsamkeit (A Poem), COVID-19 – A Spiritual Message.
