Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, why pray?
On 24th July 2020 by SatyaThis is a photo from our last vigil for you, sweet Earth, that continued all day and all night for weeks until the virus forced us back into our homes. I can’t remember who just told a joke, but I love the smile playing on Sarah’s lips. We spent a lot of time doing precisely
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, it’s started.
On 18th July 2020 by SatyaIt’s 5.30am and I’ve been awake for hours. My brain is fizzing like sherbet. After a crazy-busy week and with a full day ahead of me, I can’t find the soft blanket of sleep. Rebellion is coming. In six weeks we will be out on the streets again – grandfathers, scientists, ex-policemen, pilots, people of
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, I surrender.
On 15th July 2020 by SatyaI surrender to not knowing how much longer you will support the human race before shrugging us off. I surrender to not being your sole heroic saviour. I surrender to my ordinary life with all its caramel brownies and sore backs, warm bright words from friends and what’s-the-point dragging afternoons. I surrender to the small
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, here is wet-dog joy.
On 1st July 2020 by SatyaOur 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
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, maybe humans really are on their way out.
On 25th June 2020 by SatyaOur 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
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, I’m a miracles-do-happen realist.
On 18th June 2020 by SatyaA 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
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, what do you expect from me?
On 12th June 2020 by SatyaYou 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
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, I’m still not fixed yet, goddammit.
On 22nd May 2020 by SatyaI’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
Love Letters . ֎
Dear Earth, I’m leaning in.
On 21st May 2020 by SatyaI’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
Fragments . ֎
Hello Dear Earth
On 21st May 2020 by SatyaHere I am – melancholy, weary, my back and neck sore.Earth – our huge poppy is splitting its bud, revealing a slash of blood-red. The dogs are fighting over my affection.Leaning in, I see all the violence stirred into your beautiful soup.Listing gratitude – dappled clouds. Calm-again dogs. Quiet, embroidered with wood pigeon coos. A