Dear Earth, we are all hungry babies.

At the weekend my jagged edges rubbed up against the jagged edges of someone I love, and sparks flew. We were both wrung out and dispirited. We were at the end of our rope, and we fell.

When we are tired, hungry, angry or lonely, we can lose access to our compassion. We don’t notice the fear behind other people’s meanness. We feel impatient as they struggle to find their quiet whispering voice. When both in this state we become like two starving babies, each expecting the other to feed him.

As you get hotter, Earth, we will speak from our hungry babies more and more. We will try to protect ourselves by blaming, shaming, isolating or hitting out. We will lose our precious community connections as we paddle furiously, trying to keep our own head above water.

We need to work out how to keep ourselves nourished, so we can find our way back to ourselves, and to each other. Our suffering babies may be nourished by lying in the Buddha’s lap, or walking on the moors, or eating roast potatoes. After a good Sunday nut roast and an evening in front of the television under a furry blanket, I felt tender towards my loved one again. They felt tender towards me.

One thing that nourishes me is writing these letters to you, beloved Earth. It connects me to your green skirts with golden threads. It stitches me into my community. It helps me attend to my own starving babies, offering them soft caresses and understanding.

It helps me to serve you in this small way, exquisite, astonishing Earth.

Love, Satya <3