I promised you words from the Arctic...
I stand atop the crest of the hill. A relative mountain above the tundra. The snowmobiles have been silenced and the 7 of us stand slack-jawed. 7 men of accomplishment standing in awe of mother nature and the visual feast she’s spread before our gaze. Pure white clouds in the sky. Not a blemish on the snow. Nothing but pure white, save the sled tracks, the occasional rock outcropping, patch of scrub, or reindeer. The indirect sun (the direct sun is still 5 days away according to the official clock) provides enough light to see the gift before us. A visual sea of snow and sky. Perfect.
The wind and the cold crisp air is healing us. It is washing the city out of us. Rinsing the skepticism from our souls. In this place, right here, right now, all is well. The air is clean. The landscape is clean. The water - if there was any - would be clean.
Then it hits me. The fact that just a few miles away there is a coal burning power plant. That just a few kilometers away there is an old coal mine. A very deep hole in the earth. That this very place is inhabited by humans exclusively because of the coal deposits. Suddenly it is not lost on me that while I behold our earth mother hostess in all her pristine glory, miles beneath the ground men and women are still tearing at her insides. Eviscerating her. Scraping the last of her bowels from within her. Burning the entrails for warmth and light.
As if tearing out her viscera wasn’t insult enough…
then we went and set them on fire.
Tears come to my eyes as I realize how we have misdirected our ingenuity. Had we only invented the solar charger and the battery before we invented the internal combustion engine. I feel her pain. I feel it within me.
Believing that there has to be a purpose to this, our path, our decisions. Knowing that there has to be a method to the apparent madness that has brought us to the brink of self-extinction, I breathe. I breathe and I weep and I feel her pain as though it is mine. The self-loathing that has led to the destruction of our earth mother hostess is the same self-loathing that nearly killed me just over a decade ago.
Then I remember my truth. I recall my worthiness. I know I’m exactly where I need to be. I breathe and three messages come.
Not words that I hear. Not scrolls that I see. No burning bush. Just very clear words in my consciousness. I have ‘felt’ this ‘voice’ before. I know it as Alexander’s. The familiar ‘voice’ from other dimensions of time and space who has graced me with wisdom from the ages for a while now. Wisdom I’ve shared with you before. Three clear and powerful sentences.
“Mother needs you to protect her.”
“The time is now.”
“It can be done!”
The tears just keep flowing. My back to the men with whom I rode on our snowmobiles to this spot. I don't think they see my tears. I know they see what I've seen. I don’t know if they ‘heard’ what I ‘heard’. I breathe it in.
So now what?
It isn’t lost on me that the original purpose of the trip was to visit the Svalbard Global Seed Vault. The physical manifestation of a dream by botanist, visionary and dreamer, Dr. Cary Fowler. The former Executive Director of the Global Seed Trust who’s dream it is to protect the biodiversity of the world’s crops. Who’s vision is to protect us from falling victim to our own predisposition to grow that which yields the most without regard to what tastes good or what brings balance to the soil.
To create a place secure from man’s prying eyes, hands and ideologies in which to store the seeds of man’s future crops. It was his invitation which brings me to this hallowed ground.
The juxtaposition of the three - the seed vault, the coal mines and power plant, the pristine tundra - overwhelms me. I wipe the tears, catch my breath and turn around to my fellow adventurers. We all agree that we’ve been led to a special place. Each of us for our own reasons, I suspect. We mount up and start our engines again. Into the cold air I ride again.
I know I need to marinate on it.
I know I need to let it sink in, ferment, call me to action. For now, I’m meant to take this all in. To experience what I’m here to experience and share it with you. Perhaps hearing my voice, reading my words, seeing my pictures will inspire you to help me do something about it.
Perhaps you’ll feel the tearing at our earth mother hostess’ insides, too. Perhaps you’ll feel it in your belly as I have and you’ll join me in doing something about it. Perhaps you’ll stop using plastic as much, perhaps you’ll reuse more, perhaps you’ll turn your lights down or install a solar panel or two. Perhaps you’ll vote for a candidate who believes it’s possible to be kinder toward one another and the earth, too. Perhaps it will have meant something.
I don’t have a specific call to action for you, right now. It may come to me in the middle of the night as these inspirations often do. It may come to me the next time I’m in nature as these inspirations often do. It may come to YOU as clear as the arctic sky. My invitation for now is to answer that call. Take the stage. Speak your truth.
If you wonder if you lack worthiness, know you are called from pure purpose and having sprung from pure light, you are worthy by simply being.
If you lack courage, borrow mine. If you’re aware of a message inside you, you’re meant to express it. Nothing is more powerful than that. Not even tyranny!
If you lack clarity, meditate. Connect with me, I can help you find it.
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