Earth to Humanity — Please Slow Down!

A love letter I’m slowly starting to heed.

She has my attention. I am listening. Or at least I fancy I am.

But what is she saying, our Mother, GAIA, the Earth? The Sacred Land. The beleaguered planet. The Ground of all Being that sustains us.

Messages are coming through. If we put our ear to the ground or a seashell and listen. By listening, I mean, paying full attention. Not multi-tasking like I tend to do.

Yes, I’m on say, a zoom call. But also on my cell phone, eating mindlessly, staring into space, making a to-do list, and fantasizing about what I’ll do the second we get the all-clear — which won’t be a moment too soon, right? Or am I the only one?

As I was saying, messages are coming through. Like please slow down. We’ve been in such a hurry. Our culture is fast-paced — we work hard, and we play hard. Sometimes both. The harder we work, the harder we need to play. We’ve earned it.

If it wasn’t enough to go, go, go to our jobs, we’ve got to go, go, go to our playgrounds — sporting events, concerts, shopping malls, movies, plays, gyms, restaurants and night spots.

Doesn’t that seem like forever ago?

Yet it’s only been a week or two in most cases. March 17th in mine. Thanks so COVID-19, we’re learning how to slow down. I mean, really slow down. Or we will by the time this is over.

Some brave folks go on silent retreats. I’m not that brave. I need regular buffers between me and myself. But the brave ones who do come back and say that it takes a while for the Monkey Mind to surrender. First, it fights.

This is probably the stage most of us are in or went through when this started. If you’re like me, you schemed about having your cake and eating it, too. What could I get away with and still consider myself playing by the rules?

Could I get a massage at a dear friend’s house? Well, I did!

How can I meet my tax guy and give him my paperwork? On the corner, not unlike a drug deal.

If we do virtual meditation at my church, how many people can we risk having there to support it? Is five okay?

Is everything but walking six feet apart verboten as far as human connection goes?

Here’s what I am noticing on those six feet walks.

When we’re six feet apart, we have to exercise our lungs to hear each other. Often we fall silent for long stretches. When our ears and mouths aren’t working, our eyes and noses are. It’s spring. One of the few events that haven’t been canceled! Our city is in bloom.

We’re watching and smelling spring explode, develop, and mature. What began with plum and tulip trees has spread to include calla lilies, night jasmine, dogwood, irises, and even some early roses. It’s been raining, so the wisteria’s blooming early.

We pass a house with a canary cage on the porch. We usually stop for a minute or two and listen. Today we walked up the long driveway and stood one at a time adjacent to the cage to see the actual birds. One is bright yellow, and the other is a soft blue-gray. They sing to us rain or shine. Now we see them. Next time we’ll give them names.

I’m getting to know my neighbors. We’ve always been friendly in passing. Now we’re sharing names. Exchanging phone numbers with a promise to call if we need anything. Please reach out. That feels great to hear, but it took this for that to happen.

Interesting how we’re touching each other’s lives more deeply while physical touch is restricted. The virus forces us to find a different way.

We’re going back to the telephone.

Why? Cause we’ve slowed down. Text messages won’t do for checking up on friends I’ve all but lost touch with. They’re happy to hear from me. So glad I called.

We catch up on our lives instead of gossip. We’re sharing parts of ourselves rarely revealed. We’re seeing each other more vividly than when in full sight of each other.

We’re becoming real.

I’m letting go of what’s not essential in my life. Daily shopping, fancy lattes, fast food, and many kinds of entertainment. This is not to say I don’t dearly miss my Zumba, posture, and clown classes — all of which I do consider essential, even if the world does not. I understand why. I still miss them.

Zumba and posture classes proliferate online. Have I? Nooooo, but I fully intend to. I’m in transition, and I haven’t fully settled into the new paradigm. But as I do, new ways of doing and being come to the fore as old ways slough off.

Online exercise can replace endless news barrages— or so I intend. Oh, but I can do it solo so much faster while catching some news. However, maximum benefit requires a slower, quieter pace. My neck and back constantly implore me to click on Essentrics.com or the MELT method.

As I simplify my life, there comes enough time to do that. With slowing down comes breathing. Deeper, fuller, clearer. Because we’ve had to slow down, as in not fly, not go to work at places that mar the air quality, there is better air to breathe.

We may have lost much of our spontaneity and sense of freedom, but if we gain a more profound respect for life, starting with our very own, might it be worth it? Our Mother seems to think so.

Marilyn Flower writes political humor and satire to delight socially and spiritually conscious folks. She’s a regular columnist for the prison newsletter, Freedom Anywhere, where she writes about faith and prayer. Five of her short plays have been produced in San Francisco. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her resolve during these crazy times.