Let’s bring it back down, love.
To the grass
.
To the stone.
To the body that holds your soul.
This planet?
It’s not just scenery.
It’s consciousness.
It’s generosity.
It’s home.
She’s had many names —
Gaia, Terra Mater, Prithi, Spider Grandmother,
The Vast One, and more still whispered in the wind.
She remembers all of us.
And she holds more than roots.
She holds timelines.
Mysteries.
Remedies for every kind of wobble.
So if you’re spinning,
come back to your feet.
To the sand, the forest floor, the sunbeam.
Walk barefoot and feel the circuitry of life.
Sit beneath the biggest tree you can find.
Let it tell you a story older than time.
Because this Earth,
this wild, wise, holy Earth—
was created for you.
Not to own.
But to belong.
So bask.
Breathe.
And remember:
The way home is down.
And She will meet you there.
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