Summary

Mother Earth, personified, urges humanity to follow health guidelines during the pandemic to alleviate environmental stress and transition to sustainable living, emphasizing the interconnectedness of human actions and the planet's well-being.

Abstract

In an open letter to humanity, Mother Earth, through the voice of the author Marilyn Flower, conveys a poignant message about the need for humans to adhere to pandemic safety measures, such as social distancing and mask-wearing, not only for their own health but also to ease the environmental burden caused by human activity. The letter highlights the consequences of ignoring scientific advice and the importance of embracing renewable energy sources. It suggests that the pandemic is a wake-up call for a world too reliant on fossil fuels and consumerism, and it calls for a collective shift towards sustainable practices, including the preservation of rainforests and the reduction of plastic use. The author implies that the current crisis offers an opportunity for reflection and change, advocating for a green new deal and a more conscious approach to life post-pandemic.

Opinions

The author criticizes certain religious leaders for their initial disregard of public health advice, which led to preventable deaths.
There is a critique of the assumption that faith alone can protect from the virus, stressing the importance of adhering to scientific guidelines.
The author uses the metaphor of a steel-toed boot on the throat to illustrate the severity of the environmental crisis and the urgency for action.
The text suggests that the pandemic is a direct result of human actions and a failure to listen to previous warnings, such as those from environmental activists like Greta Thunberg.
There is a call to confront society's addiction to fossil fuels and to support green industries as part of the economic recovery.
The author expresses that the pandemic's disruption offers a chance to reevaluate lifestyles and consumer behaviors, advocating for local and sustainable food production.
The text implies that the virus is a harsh but effective teacher, forcing humanity to pay attention to the consequences of their actions on the planet.
There is an emphasis on the interdependence of human health and the health of the planet, suggesting that saving one will save the other.

To: My Dearest Children of my Human Family

From: Your Mama Earth

Yo! This is your Mother talking. Listen up!

Here’s a question for you — when someone has their big steel toe booted foot on your toes, how long do you winch in pain before doing whatever it takes to get their attention to remove said steel toe booted foot?

Better still, let’s say you’re lying down and said steel-toed booted foot is on your throat, and you’re having trouble breathing. You’re gasping for air in desperate gulps. But if that foot gets any heavier, it could be all over.

So I sent a little (as in microscopic) virus.

That got your attention — or at least most of y’all’s attention. Saint Peter’s been busy with a long line at the Pearly Gates. It seems that some evangelical leaders were having trouble getting the hang of social distancing. They wanted the Sunday pews and coffers filled.

Ooops. It backfired. On them. I did not single them out. They singled themselves out by assuming they know better than I. And the Center for Infectious Disease Control, and local public health officials. And God. They choose not to listen.

Maybe they thought their faith was strong enough to protect them. Now I am not God, but my best understanding when I was created, was that this world is governable by systematic natural laws, knowable and consistent.

That way, God does n’ t have to be the man behind the curtain like in The Wizard of Oz — which is a fulltime job in and of itself that frankly, no one wants.

That’s what science is for. Predictable results and best practices. And science says you need to stand at least six feet apart. More if you are a boisterous, Bible-thumping preacher with spittle spraying from your lips.

So these men of the cloth — and take it from me — they must have all been cut from the same cloth cause their stories all match — got a chance to practice their lesson. St. Pete made them measure six feet with carpenter’s rulers, and they had to space themselves in his line.

They thought they were in limbo or purgatory, but they were just in St. Peter’s line. Something akin to St. Elmo’s fire, but not as dramatic. He played some Samba to get the guys to do the Conga, but they couldn’t keep the rhythm going.

The line was slow-moving because St. Peter had a new dilemma. Were these men responsible for any congregants who headed their ignorance and likewise perished? Not sure what to do with that ethical question, he borrowed a model from Zoom and created a waiting room. That way he could process said congregants without making them wait till a decision came down from the Supreme One, who is very busy at the moment.

All this to say, please follow instructions.

Shelter in place. Six feet social distance. Wear masks when out and about, especially in shops and banks. Assume you are contagious, however asymptomatic. Assume everyone else is too.

If 50% of Icelanders are — and they’ve all been tested, thanks to their Medicare for All type health system, and they are a small island in the North Sea — imagine what those stats must be in a country like the U.S.A. Off the charts, my children. Off the charts.

If saving your own ass, I mean life doesn’t have your attention, let me put it another way. When you stay home, I get to breathe. When you stay home, the proverbial steel-toed boot is off my throat. When your factories are quiet, and your freeways are clear, I get to breathe.

Now that I’m breathing better, my lungs are more robust. I can speak up. Heck, I can shout really loud. I like that. Except for some narcissistic naked emperors, most of you are listening. No small feat given how addicted you are to your electronic devices.

So here’s another angle on this puppy. If you do the right thing now and help flatten the curves, you may avoid more extreme consequences. And these more extreme consequences would make a toilet paper shortage look like Mardi Gras.

They could include roving or stationary power outages. Read — running out of juice for your smartphones, PCs, iPods, laptops, tablets, etc. Unless you have a generator, a solar generator, you may be SOL.

All the more reason to get that solar energy thing going.

As this winds down and you look to jump back into the rat race, think again, kiddos. We’ll be right back at square one, and you’ll give me no choice but to send a second wave or a new contagion.

So play smart. Plan for the future. Make a bailout for green industries, solar, wind, turbine, steam, water power — which are free renewable, sustainable sources. Confront your addiction to fossil fuel. Get thy butts into recovery at your local Gas Guzzlers Anonymous meeting. We’re making Teslas sexy as fast as we can.

As soon as you can get off the grid, the less dependant you are on antiquated money-grabbing corporations like utility companies and agri-business.

I need the rain forest to breathe. And guess what, you need the rain forest to breathe. You don’t need a hamburger to breathe. You will not die from hamburger deficiency. You will die from oxygen deficiency. Save the cows and save your own behinds.

When you get the all-clear, don’t run to the mall in your SUV. You weren’t born to consume, you were born to create, My Precious Ones.

Restart your economy slowly and consciously, which is how you should also be cooking and eating. It all fits together, you see. Green new deal. Sustainable lifestyles. Grow some food.

Stop using plastic. It’s no coincidence that the virus lives on plastic longer than cardboard and metal. I am dropping as many hints as I can. Pollution now has a bigger price, my Lovelies.

And finally, I love you dearly. I wish I could have done this another way. I tried repeatedly. I sent an eloquent young Swede with long pigtails and the courage of a rugby team to confront the climate-denying, fossil fuel defending bullies.

You and they did not listen. So I sent an ass-kicking virus no one can see, and that’s working better. Just remember, the better you listen, the better you behave., the sooner you can go out and play again. Meanwhile, you need this Time Out. It’s that simple.

Virtual hugs and kisses,

Your Mother Earth

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.