You're not a lawnApr 28, 2020
That may sound weird or vague to some people. The longer I spend time in isolation from society the deeper within I have traveled. I share my space with my younger sister and husband so I am lucky enough have my core community with me. My path of facing the world alone has come to an end. Even in the new world that in manifesting I can see my family and community growing. The hope that fills me is also unprecedented. The joy I have is contagious (too soon?)
I’ve also made my way through most of the TV I was watching before the world changed. As I look for new entertainment I find the narratives of families and parenting seem to pull me more than previously. My work has focused so deeply on healing my inner child that feeling the call of my inner mother is strange. As the spring comes I can her rising like Persephone from her home with Hades to show that she is no longer Kore, the maiden, but instead she is with child, she brings new life from the realm of death. Like many others I have been praying and working so that the earth will heal. I see this new age and it fill me with such faith. I believe in my dream of a family, a new community, a new home.
So what’s with that title, right? Well. I hate lawns. Historically they come from the tumultuous time of French aristocracy and revolutions. Socially they have always been a means for showing expendable wealth. When I think of the home, family and community I want I do see identical houses with lawns approved by Karen from the Home Owners Association. I see wild. I see biodiversity. I see living with the land not on the land.
But if my reality is a mirror of my inner universe then why do I have a lawn in my brain? I mean why am I expecting my brain, heart, soul or body to live in each other and not with each other? Just as the earth is not meant to be just one thing so too I can allow my interior world, my connection to source, my expression to be as diverse as any healthy yard or field or forest. As a kid all we had was a small, wire fenced yard against a cement alleyway. Against one side was a swing set that I considered my haven. If I was out on the swing set then my Mom didn’t bother me. We moved to a larger house with a yard next to the local highschool when I was ten. It was amazing. I could suddenly, safely wander up to 30 or 45 minutes of a walking from home. There were parking lots to bike in. There was forest around the back side of the campus. There were tennis courts and a track/football field. When I went to high school in Rhode Island we spent every Saturday and Sunday at the various state parks or beaches in the state.
It was out in the “wild” that I found the space and ability to hear my own voice. I could hide from the voices that told me I had to change, cut myself down, be like everyone else or I would hurt other people. The narrative was that I hurt people. The woods, wilds, fields and yards I took solace in over the years taught me that healthy growth shows when many things can grow in unison. To the individual this looks like not needing to be the master of any one craft or the ability to heal in the midst of chaos. As a community it means each person needs to be themselves in order for true peace and harmony to exist. As spring come to this age of isolation maybe don’t worry so much what your lawn looks like and strive to grow a more natural space as a reminder to let your heart and soul grow with your mind and body. Let go of the need for old standards and devout your energy to listening to your intuition and hope for a healthier tomorrow.