Dear Earth, I made you bakewell tarts.On 11th December 2019 by Satya
I know how you like them, with crisp pastry and a generous splodge of sticky raspberry jam. The people who come to our temple open morning will eat them for you, and enjoy them. That will make you happy.
Now I am stringing words together for you. Later I will clean out the cat litter tray for you, and put on the washing. This afternoon I will sit with four people for an hour each, and bring them healing in your name.
When I do things in the spirit of making an offering, they shine. The tarts become precious jewels. The clearing away of shit becomes a way of showing caring for our bony old cat. My work as a psychotherapist becomes sanctified, is a great privilege.
I forget, darling Earth. I resent the endless washing of clothes and sweeping of stairs. I feel unappreciated and weary. I bombard myself with guilt – I should be doing different things for you in your time of need, braver things, more.
Then the bakewell tarts come out of the oven, golden and begging to be eaten. I remember that I am spreading kindness. I remember that there are billions of us being kind to each other. Even the ones who are twisted and afraid, even the ones who lie and control – even they experience moments of offering clear compassion. The sun finds a way of breaking through.
There will be storms ahead. We will need as many bakewell tarts as we can gather. I will keep making offerings, and I will keep having faith in kindness.
Much love, Satya <3