Awhile back in our WeAwakening meditation group, as people were coming in from the waiting room, some of us were greeting each other in the chat.
Greetings from Philadelphia where it can’t seem to decide whether to be sunny or cloudy
Blessings in Huntington Beach—we had a lovely light rain last night with possibly more promised this afternoon.
Hello from a grey, wet Somerset, UK
Good morning from CA. We finally have some winter weather, not complaining just observing. Happy day to you.
Hello to everyone..from Sheffield ,Yorkshire….dark and wintry here..🙂
Happy day from Ojai CA. We actually got a thimbleful of rain and are very excited! Might actually get a little more!
Good morning from Ramon, CA. Got some rain too!
And on it went.
For some reason these messages as they popped up left me on the verge of tears, and I had to ask myself what it was about this weather greeting we were sharing that touched me so deeply?
Then I realized that it was because it made it so apparent that we are sharing a planet, and by giving each other a weather report we were telling each other what the Earth was up to where we lived.
I found it joyously beautiful that we could come together, from coast to coast and from four different countries, and tap into this universal experience of living on a living planet.
As I reflected on this after our meditation I was finding it so strange that we could possibly think that talking about the weather is superficial. “How could that be?” I thought. “How could we ever believe that the weather—what Earth is up to in this moment—could be unimportant?”
As humans, talking about the weather is something we do. Probably because when most of us lived in closer harmony with Earth, weather was one of the most important aspects of life. Weather meant the difference between crops that thrived and crops that withered. And even though most of us now buy our food in shrink wrapped packaging and live in climate controlled homes, we still talk about the weather. Something in us feels our enduring kinship with the Earth.
It’s a kinship we are reawakening to, and none too soon. Because our disregard of that kinship has brought us to a point where our talk about the weather is often urgent. “Were you able to evacuate before the hurricane hit? Have you gotten any rain? Did your home survive the tornado? How bad is the smoke where you live?”
This is not idle conversation, and it never was. What the Earth is up to is so much more important than our little human dramas, and we’re finally starting to get it that when we talk about what the Earth is up to, it’s ourselves, our lives, we’re talking about.