Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

Deep-seated and fixed.

July 22, 2016

 

Roots are the communication system, the apothecary, the hotline, and the through-line for every green and growing being on this planet. That is just wicked; it blows me away every time. Roots feel out the microcosm of the infinite universe that is the soil around them--ascertaining its chemical constituents, bacterial population, even sensing the health of the plants around it. This root system can transmit chemicals to heal or harm, depending on circumstances. They can call for help, send out warnings, and communicate such things as trends in weather and incoming storms. 

 

And they never see the light of day. They trust that the rest of the being knows what it's doing, and just keep on keeping on. 

 

Then, there's us, with our own roots bound up somewhere north of our shoulders. We're a mess, really. Often, sure, a grudgingly lovable mess, but a hot mess nonetheless. Think of all we *wouldn't* have to think about if we were just rooted. If we could stay grounded (meditation, yoga, and stillness help enormously here--so does turning off electronics and having a few blissfully blank and empty days in our calendars), we'd get such a better read on our health, our environment, our community. We'd sense emotional storms before they burst open over our heads.

 

In other words, we'd see this shite coming and not find ourselves in a self-pitying, regretful stupor on the couch with a bucket of ice cream and a Friends marathon on Netflix. Again. 

 

Root down to rise up. I love that--simple. All you have to do is think the words, and the signal is sent. Roots respond to silent signals. It's what they're built for. 

 

 

 

 

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