Category: Love Letters

Dear Earth, here is wet-dog joy.

Our seven dogs hadn’t met before. As we swapped polite human pleasantries they sniffed each other’s bums and worked out how they might play together. Half-way through our walk this oasis of water presented itself and they all bounded in, delighted. Whenever I go online, I encounter thorns. They prick me with news of environmental Read More

Dear Earth, maybe humans really are on their way out.

Our government isn’t on track to meet their own 2050 carbon targets, which are woefully inadequate to begin with. The Arctic is boiling. The rainforests are being razed. Greed, hate and delusion swirl in us all. More and more, I’m including the possibility that we have entered a terminal phase of our life-span. That it Read More

Dear Earth, I’m a miracles-do-happen realist.

A few weeks ago my Buddhist teacher said that, in relation to what will happen as we come out of lock down, he’s a happy pessimist. He believes that, broadly, polluters will spring back to trashing you, shoppers will slide back into unnecessary excess, and those few white men who hold the lion’s share of Read More

Dear Earth, what do you expect from me?

You don’t expect the beans outside my window to shoot their winding, dividing tendrils like Jack’s beanstalk across the vegetable patch, producing pomegranates, artichokes, bouquets of exotic flowers. You would be happy if they slowly crawl up their bamboo poles and make beautiful runner beans. You don’t expect this little mouse to be peacemaker between Read More

Dear Earth, I’m still not fixed yet, goddammit.

I’ve lived on your lap for 45 years now, darling Earth, and I have done a lot of therapy. I’ve spent decades in 12 step programmes and trainings, and I’ve done a lot of spiritual practice. I’ve consumed forests of books. I’ve written teetering stacks of journals. And I am STILL NOT FIXED. There are Read More

Dear Earth, I’m leaning in.

I’m resting my foot against a warm snoring dog underneath my desk. I’m resting my eyes on the grey stone Buddha on my windowsill, as he exudes his usual tranquillity. I’m resting my tired heart on your battered breast, darling Earth, as you absorb whatever we hurl at you. After I rest a while, I Read More

Dear Earth, I believe in miracles.

Oh Earth, we are suffering. We are seeing how it is to run out of food and to be afraid of going out. We shiver as death blows in at our perimeters. We are tasting our powerlessness. When this is over, what will we do? Will we dive back into consumption, compulsion, control? Will we Read More

Dear Earth, it’s impossible.

All year I have been avoiding plastic in the supermarkets. Last week I chose the mushrooms sweating in their clingfilmed plastic coffin, because I was afraid. I was afraid of catching the coughing virus. Meanwhile, on a Pacific island, albatross chicks are being fed lighters, bottle tops, and biros by their mothers. This cargo fills Read More

Dear Earth, this is making me happy:

This rectangle of land in front of our flat, generously dressed in dark compost. Mushroom compost, which arrived on a lorry and the man asked me to get my own pen to sign for it as he wasn’t allowed to lend me his or I might infect him. Bunny compost, made of our three bunnies’ Read More

Dear Earth, I am not worthy.

Other people are fitting ventilators to those suffering in the overflowing hospitals, dear Earth. Other people are fetching medicine for their neighbours. I sit sulking in my office and wait for my daily exercise. I order myself expensive chocolates and a green hourglass. I estimate the days until I am free from this extravagant jail. Read More

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