Dear Earth, forgive me for using you as a mirror.

Us humans are experts at using objects as extensions of our delicate selves.

I look in my wallet and think, ‘new gloves for me’. I look at my cat and think, ‘purr for me’. I glance at your autumn colours, a procession of fiery finery, and think, ‘cold out, a cosy evening inside for me’.

This using objects as a mirror can be subtle, insidious. If I’m not careful, even my offerings to the world become signposts back to me. My writing is manufactured to receive praise, rather than an attempt at expressing the beckoning ineffable. My running the temple becomes centred around growing our congregation, rather than giving away the brightest jewels I’ve received.

I know you don’t mind. And, I know that whenever I look through my ‘me-glasses’, I miss out. I miss out on the wild Otherness of you. I miss out on the messages you have for me. I miss out on the ‘drunkenness of things being various‘.

It doesn’t help when I scold myself for turning everything into the Satya show. What helps is noticing when I’m doing it, and then shifting my gaze just a teensy bit. I can imagine your gentle hand under my chin, darling Earth, bringing my attention to your exquisite detail. The flick-tailed wren sheltering in the bush. The clean taste of turnips. The wisdom of seasons.

I am blessed, dear Earth, by your continued invitation into a deeper relationship with you. When I open my senses to your music, beloved, I forget how I look and I DANCE.

Love, Satya <3

Image by Couleur from Pixabay, with gratitude.