Once I finally crossed everything off my list today, I finally allowed myself to sit on a massive slab in the middle of the creek. The volume of water coursing downstream was significantly less than yesterday, yet its roar continues to be deafening.
Every once in a while it’s deeply satisfying to find one’s self ensconced in the midst of so much noise. There’s no easy way to discern if anyone is trying to get your attention. In fact, unless movement catches your eye, it’s almost impossible to know whether anyone else is even around you. Instead, there’s this ‘white (water) noise’ pouring into your ears.
Layers of Flow – Photo: L. Weikel
It Takes Me a While
It actually takes me a while before I fully settle down and allow myself to just be with the relentless sound of the creek.
I eventually succeeded, but now I’m finding myself feeling like I left myself at the creek. I’m profoundly tired. Tired right down to my bones. It’s probably all the emotional upheaval of the past week.
It’s hard to believe it was only last week at this time when I heard a noise erupt from Spartacus that I thought was a massive and very peculiar sounding fart – but which I now strongly suspect was something bursting inside him.
It’s thoughts like these that are curiously similar to the swirls and eddies of the creek that I witnessed quite close to where I was sitting. If I let myself dwell too long on that weird sound then my feelings get stuck in a shallow little vortex that is hard to escape.
And that’s when I realize once more how brilliant it is to just succumb to Mother Earth’s healing ministrations.
She makes the creek loud enough to drown out the thoughts on purpose.
And when I re-emerge from my perch on the slab, I feel different.
I barely pay attention anymore to the quantity of posts I’ve written. After all, it doesn’t matter where I am exactly in my 1111 Devotion. What matters is that I show up. But if you’ve read my posts for any length of time, you know I notice and pay attention to patterns. So I guess it’s not a stretch to imagine I’d sit up and give a nod to today’s number.
Today I’m on Day 888 and tomorrow there will only be 222 left to write in order to fulfill my homage to our son. It’s funny; I often feel like an alcoholic as I write these each night: honestly, I can only contemplate fulfilling this devotion one day at a time.
So when people occasionally ask me if I intend to keep writing posts after I reach my goal, I can only, in all honestly, shrug my shoulders. Heck, I’m not counting my chickens about reaching the goal; how can I predict with any credibility at all what I may do if and when I finally get there?
Today’s Photos
I’ve mentioned before how utterly impossible my 1111 Devotion task would be if I couldn’t take photos each day and easily upload them with my iPhone. The visual cues that remind me of each day’s magic are probably a bigger and perhaps better reflection of what really matters to me than the words I write.
Hmm. As I reflect upon that statement, I have to admit it’s not entirely accurate. The reason for that is because I so rarely post photos of the people in my life. And the people with whom I interact in my life, my family and friends, of course – but also my clients and the people I encounter on a regular basis and honestly care about, and even the random people who cross my path (or whose path I cross) in life – matter to me.
Yet I rarely post photos of people. Mostly, I guess, because it doesn’t feel right to do so. There have been a couple of exceptions, but those were usually more of a ‘crowd’ shot than a personal statement or revelation.
But while the people in my life do matter to me, it’s the gifts of Mother Earth that are the treasures that never cease to provide inspiration and hope. And occasionally even some insight – almost always courtesy of my encounters with winged ones or other Beings.
A Bright Spot
Karl and I spent yet another day going through ‘stuff.’ I think we kept hoping the sun would come and out and coax us into taking a walk. But no. The sky remained overcast the entire day, sporting just a tad of a chill, too.
Finally, though, we tore ourselves away from our tasks and set off for a walkabout (the four mile trek). We both knew we needed more than ‘just a two.’
As we rounded a corner on one of the legs of our journey, we gasped at the splash of color that appeared in the midst of not only the gray and dismal day but also the haphazard arrangement of sticks and briars and the dark edge of a forest at dusk.
“Ah,” I said out loud. “There’s something to share on my blog.”
And so I am.*
Photo: L. Weikel
*And what this has to do with today’s number, I’ll never know.
Our walk late this afternoon yielded a remarkable observation that just begged to be photographed and shared. A branch of a tree had fallen on one of the back roads we travel when we go on our longer ‘walkabout.’ It obviously had been cut with a chainsaw and tossed on the berm to decay. While this is a relatively common occurrence, the mystery evoked by the natural hieroglyphics lurking under its bark was a welcome addition to our day.
Yes, of course. We know the markings are the result of insects living beneath the bark. But it doesn’t take a deep dive into the ocean of whimsy to see the designs created by these creatures resemble early efforts by humans to convey thoughts, ideas, and perhaps emotions as well.
I guess the markings probably resemble more the musings of our most ancient ancestors (those I referenced in my recent post about a Cloud Horse) – not necessarily the further evolved ideas of the ancient Egyptians. Nevertheless, one could definitely ‘read’ meaning into this discovery.
Signs and Symbols – Photo: L. Weikel
Intuition or Baloney?
I’m not positing that we drew any conclusions from our discovery today, beyond the fact that the natural world creates works of beauty filled with symbols recognized by humans for millennia.
And even though we didn’t ‘read’ anything into the figures and faces, spirals and meandering paths we could see as plain as day etched into this chunk of wood, I’m not reluctant to say we could have. We didn’t see messages or interpret signs because we hadn’t asked a question. We weren’t seeking answers to anything in particular.
Or maybe we were – and maybe we received exactly what we needed. Maybe we were yearning for a flash of creativity from Mother Earth or the creatures with whom we share our environment. Perhaps we needed to see some freeform artwork that would send our own creative juices into a state of demanding expression instead of always being happy to step aside for more practical and logical endeavors.
Photo: L. Weikel
Permission
When we give ourselves permission to imagine we unleash a whirlwind of potential.
Maybe that’s why, as a culture, we tend to instill in ourselves and our children (because it was instilled in us) a disdain for embracing our intuition. Actually, beyond disdain, it actually feels like a fear of embracing our ability to tap into the Unseen. There’s an incredible amount of power inherent in imagination, creativity, and making intuitive connections to signs, symbols, and patterns in our lives.
What happens when we give ourselves license to truly engage our imaginations? To read the patterns engraved in wood by insects that may have died months or years ago? Could it be possible that there is a web of connection between all beings we encounter – between us and everything else in our world?
Is it be possible that we can access insight and guidance from beings we arrogantly deem lack sentience?
It makes me wonder if the message brought by our natural hieroglyphics was to provoke a musing on precisely these questions.
Mystic Art Medicine Oracle by Cher Lyn – “Creation”
Creation
As I wrote in last night’s post, when I chose some cards on our behalf from the Mystic Art Medicine Oracle deck, I was intrigued by the appearance (yet again) of the Transformation card. The concept of this card has been riding with us for at least five months or so. Only this time Transformation was the top or ‘main’ card – indicating, I surmise, that we are in the thick of it. We’re no longer calling in the transformation of our perception, of our world, of our reality. We’re living it. Or rather, as the ‘foundational’ card of this pick, Creation, would indicate, we’re creating it.
I deliberately chose to share ‘the rest of the story,’ as it were, with you tonight for a couple of reasons. For one, the post would’ve been too long had I included what I want to write this evening. For another thing, with the power of the new moon that just occurred minutes ago (as I write this) to both fully release the old and serve as fecund opportunity to plant something new, I thought we might benefit from focusing our attention full-on to the power of Creation tonight.
Given all that we’re experiencing in the United States right now, especially with respect to the election results (and what was created as a result of the exercise of our sacred right and responsibility to vote), I got chills reading the words of Cher Lyn for this card:
Creation ~ “Medicine Baby”
The boy king’s heart gives love a chance.
Innocence is the wind in the butterfly’s dance
Bridging rainbow colors to bless and align
With Intent…an anticipatory design
Pause for a moment…imagine
Our New Creation…Divine.
Cher Lyn
“The image shown here from “Medicine Baby” is symbolic of the male spark in Creation. The innocence of the male is needed for recognizing the feminine in her wisdom, co-creating balance and healing. This unity brings peace back to Creation on Earth. He is decorated with crown jewels that ordain him as the chosen one who sends golden heart energy into the center of Creation. He is of royal indigenous bloodline and uses ancient alchemy to co-create with the goddesses of the Four Directions and Elements to heal the hearts on Earth. His butterfly wings are the colors of the rainbow and emanate from his chakras. The butterfly is a powerful symbol of change, moving from land, to cocoon, into finally a beautiful winged butterfly, the ultimate transformation.
Everything has an order of being within the infinite cycle of life. Indigenous cultures knew the ways of nature and Earth wisdom to sustain their lives in a good way. They knew how to heal naturally using the ways of the Land. They had seers and dreamers who could predict the future and warn them to safety.
It seems the further you wander from your innate unified connection with the Earth and God, the emptier you feel. You then strive to fill this emptiness with ‘material things,’ which only buries you into deeper feelings of disconnection. When electronics and entertainment distract with the illusion that they make life more interesting, it’s a warning that you have given your power away. Keeping you from what otherwise could be an extraordinary life. Nature is powerful beyond your imagination. When humans and nature come together working co-creatively, gifts far beyond your wildest dreams will unveil.
Creation medicine card has come to help you heal your relationship with yourself, the Earth and all of Creation. Essentially in asking, your inner-wisdom will offer you a way to live in a less complex and distracting world. Let go of any diversions that are draining your life force. Create more powerfully with the infinite world within you.” (emphasis added)
It’s Time
While I am the first to caution that we exercise care and vigilance as we move forward following the outcome of this election, there is also a sense of emergence in the air. It’s time for us to move forward, and it behooves us to do so with all due speed and deliberation.
The cacophony of discord may persist for a while, and I doubt it will ever recede completely, but the tide has turned. Our perceptions have shifted and transformed. We are continuing to evolve. We are ready, willing, and actually able now to create the vision of a country and world where we work together for the good of all, including – indeed, of paramount importance – our Mother Earth.
Hold the vision of the Butterfly as we bring in this new, passionate energy. I wonder what we will discover has come to fruition when we reflect upon the full moon in Scorpio, which will occur six months from now?
Well, the post I wrote last night pretty much revealed the simmering concerns I have over the trajectory we’re on. There are so many threats being waged – daily – on our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual well-being. And these threats are being experienced by all of us, both personally and collectively as a nation and even as a planet. So it was comforting when Turtle showed up as my ‘pick’ today.
Of course, I’m referring to the tradition Karl and I have of starting our mornings by choosing Medicine Cards*, and chatting over a cup of coffee about how our selections might apply to the day ahead of us. Sometimes we may only discern the relevance of a particular selection after the day has unfolded. And sometimes a pick is obviously a direct response to something we’re thinking or feeling or worrying about at the moment we chose our cards.
In fact, sometimes I have to laugh because I realize that a card I’ve chosen is directly addressing something I’ve not even spoken of out loud – and barely admitted to myself. That’s one of the gifts of opening ourselves up to exploring our intuition and the unseen guidance that’s merely waiting to be ‘asked.’
Mother Earth
The message I received when I chose Turtle this morning was that my day would be enhanced if I reconnected with Mother Earth. I took that to mean consciously. Quietly. Introspectively.
And with Black Panther underneath, my sense was that in choosing to consciously root or ground myself, by giving myself an opportunity to step away from my laptop and phone (other than to take photos so I could share my experience in some small way with you), I very well might literally ‘embrace the unknown.’
I chose to pay a silent visit to my Tohickon, my source of sustenance and rejuvenation, and I was amply rewarded. A blue heron greeted me, bringing joy immediately to my heart. But it was my immersion in a holographic cocoon of hundreds of shades of abundant life force that filled my senses and helped me remember: there is so much more.
Grandmother Moon
And just now, right before I’m posting this, I took Sheila outside and was dazzled by the brilliance of Grandmother Moon. A catbird singing reminded me of my discovery of that beautiful gift last year.
And all I wanted to do was run inside and share all of this abundant sustenance with you.**
Night Shot – Photo: L. Weikel
*affiliate link
**One other thing? Don’t forget, tomorrow is the first day of July. If you’ve been making the effort to bring diversity and balance to the land on which you live (big or small) by participating in the Perelandra Biodiversity Project, make sure to set aside the five minutes it takes to engage in the very simple yet powerful exercise described here and here.
Wild Raspberry Wineberry Bushes – Photo: L. Weikel
Prickle of Hope
Given my recollection from years past, I’d give them three weeks at the most. Although it’s possible we’ll only have to wait two-ish, if we’re lucky. One thing I know for sure: I felt a prickle of hope this evening when they caught our attention.
All of a sudden, the wild raspberry bushes lining the sides of our country roads are announcing their presence. I could feel them calling to us as we walked – it almost felt like the bushes with their burgeoning berries were like spectators at a parade, calling and waving to us as we walked past them, life energy surging through them and rippling out to us in waves.
Perfect Timing
I think I can speak for Karl when I say that one of our favorite hedonistic indulgences takes place approximately one week after our wedding anniversary every year. (Hence my ability to pinpoint with such self-assured accuracy when they’ll be bursting into perfection.)
There are few things in this life more sensually pleasing in so many ways as taking an early summer walk and coming upon a thicket of ripe wild raspberries so plump they practically jump off their delicate yellow spindles into the cup of your palm, prodded only by a simple brush of your fingertips.
It’s hard not to feel dizzy with gratitude and appreciation for Mother Earth as we pop these sweet juicy treats into our mouths, laughing and savoring their sweet magic. I always try to take just one berry at a time – at least at first – doing my utmost to do justice to this annual ritual. Of course, this doesn’t last long. Within moments, I am thanking the berries over and over as I fill my palms and drop the nuggets into my mouth by twos, threes, fours – or more.
In addition to honoring that first raspberry of the season by noticing its shape with my tongue, from the hollow cave where it was attached to the bush to its tiny plump components, I close my eyes and feel my saliva responding to what I know will be a rush of sweetness. Unless, of course, I happen to have chosen impatiently – taking a berry that didn’t just drop into my hand but might have held on to its home with just the slightest cling. Ah yes – that can make for a little bit of a pucker, when the sugar inside hasn’t quite reached its peak.
But the occasional tart one only makes the sweet ones all the more delectable.
An Entire Experience
While some of the berry bushes flash their wares in the brilliance of direct sunshine, we’re usually able to take shelter from the hot summer sun under the leaves of the many surrounding ashes, oaks, and shagbark hickories that stand watch over these patches. The air is often thick and humid when the berries are at their best. As I write these words right now, I can imagine the aroma of the grasses we sometimes trample to gain access to these prickly patches. There’s usually a backdrop of crickets humming in the heat as well – or the buzz of bees that are also happily sampling the feast.
There’s plenty for all of us, including the deer, who are our usually our greatest competitors for these tasty treats.
Sweetest In the Moment
Over the years, when we used to come upon the ripening berries, we’d indulge in stuffing a few in our mouths and then vow to bring a container the next day to harvest some for dessert. Most of the time, we’d forget to bring a container. Once or twice, though, we’d remember – and I have to confess: they never tasted as good at home. They’re ok; don’t get me wrong.
But standing in the middle of a thicket, surrounded by prickles as well as gobs and gobs of berry clusters, birds singing in the trees, bees and crickets humming and thrumming, the smell of Mother Earth filling your senses, and then stuffing your mouth with handful upon handful of blood red, juicy berries?
There’s nothing like it.
And it’s our unique ritual to celebrate the beginning of another year of life together. Considering all the peculiar challenges and circumstances all of us are facing this year, perhaps this is why the nascent berries called out to me so distinctly today. They want us to feel the prickle of hope and promise of abundance; they call us to know that Mother Earth is always with us, feeding and nurturing us. They want us to remember the profound joy to be found in the moments of simplest pleasures.
Nascent Wineberries* Wild Raspberries – Photo: L. Weikel
It’s the first day of April by the time any of you read this, since I know I won’t get it published until after midnight. I’m sure you share with me the inclination to cock your head and ask, “Really? It’s April? What year?”
Nothing is normal anymore. Every single day we plunge deeper and deeper into an abyss of horror. “Surely,” we say to each other, “surely this is some vast apocalyptic nightmare movie that we’re all playing bit parts in. We’re extras in a movie starring Donald Trump, right?”
We’d be excused for thinking so – for thinking that we are no more than walk-on extras who are expendable in every way, as long as the star gets his due.
But I didn’t want to go there, so you can just forget these first couple of paragraphs. On to something tangible we can do.
Perelandra’s Biodiversity Project
I’ve written about this before – a number of times. The first explanation I gave of this very simply procedure that takes no more than five minutes, using ten drops of the elixir called Essence of Perelandra is in this post. I provide you with a variety of links to the Perelandra site and other interesting references in that post.
Hopefully, you’ve invested in a bottle or two of Essence of Perelandra so you can participate in taking a small but significant to Nature step in bringing humanity into balance with Nature.
It’s interesting to me that my first post on this subject was instigated by the fires in the Amazon. When I wrote about the lungs of Mother Earth being burned – and suggested we take this step to begin bringing us back into balance.
Hmm. Mother Earth’s lungs were burning, and humanity was in no small way complicit in that happening. And now our lungs are filling up and drowning thousands of us.
I dare say – there’s a correlation. On a lot of levels.
This Isn’t a Joke
So please – take five minutes on April 1st (today), and the first day of every month, to recognize and speak with Mother Earth/Nature – and do something proactive, profound, and yet oh-so-simple to bring us into balance with our home and the sentience that surrounds us.
It’s something you can do. And it’s not a joke.
And while you’re there, I urge you to check out the solutions being recommended that will build your immunity. (MBP solutions: Respiratory, Lymphatic, and Immune – and the Virus solution.) Read about the concepts underpinning these solutions. It’s all about creating a balance in your body and energetic field. Don’t take my word for it, though – read about it yourself. Make up your own mind.
Some of you may remember my semi-flip out back in September when suddenly all the birds not only went silent but actually left the premises. It was a long 20 days or so before they finally started returning, much to my huge relief. It’s possible, I suppose, that they all just suddenly discovered plentiful seeds and other treats somewhere else. But the abruptness and totality of their departure – and the similar abruptness of their return – just seemed kind of weird.
I do intend to pay attention this fall, to see if they make it into an annual habit.
Looking For Normal
This past week felt like I was trapped in a time warp. Every day I had to make a concerted effort to steady and ground myself – almost as if I’d awakened in the midst of an ocean and had to regain my sea legs before I could walk into the next room. But it wasn’t a physical wavering. It was a psychological one – or perhaps even deeper; perhaps an existential one.
So many assumptions and fundamental beliefs I’ve held about our country and our ability to respond to any challenge – no matter how grave, how daunting, or how threatening – have been shattered this week. And the worst part about that? The worst part is knowing that it was completely avoidable. The worst part is knowing that our lack of preparation and ability to respond (responsibility) was facilitated by the deliberate obfuscation of those at the highest levels of our government.
And people are starting to get sick and die in numbers that grow exponentially, daily, as a result.
So? Having no real power to effect meaningful change until Election Day, I need to look for normal amidst the chaos. Looking for normal yesterday afternoon meant feeding my birds.
Everyday Joy
The temperature outside climbed to 78 degrees yesterday. Needing to ground myself and reconnect to what’s real and sustainable, I found myself sitting on my porch in the sunshine, reveling in birdsong. For a precious few minutes, I was able to wrap myself in a cocoon of delight as I listened to the robins and the fish crows trill and grok, respectively. I watched both two red shouldered woodpeckers and a downy cling to my front feeder and push around a chickadee, then heard but could not see-to-save-my-life the producer of the unmistakable, heavy-billed <<thwacking>> of a pileated just beyond the garage.
I watched goldfinches, house finches, sparrows and wrens flit and flutter amongst the shelter of the carcass of our Christmas tree, which we prop against one of the maples in our yard each year to give them additional cover from the sharp-shinned and red-tailed hawks that patrol the area. Nuthatches marched upside down on the maples and I even glimpsed either a blue bird or an indigo bunting before it disappeared into the thicket along our driveway.
My effort to reclaim normal consisted of the measured, meditative act of filling our birdfeeders and feeding the birds.
Pandemic Partners
I hope I’ll be able to keep my feeders filled over the coming months. The joy and sense of connection with All Life that birds give me is abundantly healing and centering. I recently came across this great article with excellent tips on how to make our yards welcoming, safe, and enticing to these wonderful creatures. It affirmed why Karl and I are so lucky to have so many feathered friends sharing this land we call home.
So many of the suggestions in this article are sound common sense, but they’re also little ways of changing our relationship with birds and Mother Earth that help bring us into balance with Her.
And ultimately, as we make our way through the devastation of this pandemic, coming back into balance with Mother Earth will be key. Celebrating and appreciating our birds can remind us of that.
Asking for the room. I’m also asking for the planet.
Nothing, it seems, can happen in the world anymore without yet another scandal involving DT sucking all the oxygen out of the room.
Yet millions of people took a stand for Mother Earthtoday, walking out of offices and schools, gathering together in streets and parks and public squares, to demand that we all stop what we’re doing and realize our planet is on fire, and soon none of us may be able to breathe anymore.
We are living the crisis.
If You Didn’t Strike Today
If you weren’t able to participate in the Global Climate Strike today, there are still many opportunities to demand that our governments (and fellow citizens) begin taking seriously the threat to our planet’s existence.
For instance, if you live anywhere within striking distance of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, youth and other climate activists intend to march in the county seat of Doylestownfrom 12 noon to 1:30 p.m. The march will organize in the parking lot of Central Bucks West High School and culminate at the Bucks County Courthouse.
If You’re Just Getting Up to Speed
There are so many life and conscience-threatening issues and sources of disruption in our lives every single day, it seems, that it’s hard to keep up with them all.
All of these strikes are taking place in lead-up to United Nations Climate Action Summit on Monday, September 23rd in New York City. Here is a link to the main strike site that explains the point behind these so-called Climate Strikes.
The Power of One
What’s pretty astounding is that this world-wide movement literally began with one then-15 year old Swedish girl sitting outside Parliament in Stockholm, protesting that no one in the world seemed to be paying attention to the crisis facing all of us.
So this particular movement to gain the attention of the world to the existential threat of our time began looking this:
And has resulted in this in the span of one year :
Never Underestimate the Power of YOU
In the meantime, tonight’s sky was a study in pastels. I feel so deeply grateful for our planet, for the beauty and abundance she provides us every single day, and for the fury she displays and the destructive force she wields when she gets out of balance.
Just like any good mother, she continues to teach us, through her own example, no matter how old we get. Let us express our fury in healthy, peaceful, and effective ways, so we can minimize the destruction that’s already taking place on our watch, and that awaits us all if we don’t wake up – now.
Amidst all the insanity, all of the human angst and suffering, the cruelty we inflict upon each other, and the struggles each of us engage in on a daily basis, sometimes just to keep our shit together enough to make it through one more day, there is one unequivocal, undeniable constant.
No matter who we are, no matter where we live, no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in on any given day, in any given country, there remains one aspect of this life that we all share: Mother Earth.
Being a Mother
The parallels are there. They’re undeniable. We call this planet upon which we live our lives Mother Earth for a reason. Just as there’s a reason that we never call this planet Father Earth.
This observation is not in any way a knock on fathers. Not at all. It is, rather, an acknowledgment of the obvious.
Mother Earth feeds every thing and every being who lives upon her from her body . In one form or another, we all continue to seek and receive nourishment from the body of our mother, the planet Earth, every single day.
In order to keep us safe, she grows on her ‘skin,’ so to speak, materials that we need and use to build shelters that protect us from the elements.
In order to keep us healthy, she provides the perfect environment for plants to thrive and grow. These plants not only feed us, but also make medicines and other remedies that serve us, heal us, and help us maintain our balance, inside and out.
In order to keep us happy and entertained, warm in the winter and cold in the summer, in order to keep us with gold and silver on our fingers, clothes on our backs, and modes of transportation that take us across town or to the other side of “her,” our planet gives to us of herself.
Everything we use to sustain life here on this planet is created out of or provided directly by Mother Earth.
Taking Responsibility
For the longest time, she has indulged us – as a mother who cherishes her child might, and often does – even though she knows, deep down, that every child eventually needs to grow up and face the consequences of its choices.
Our actions, from what we do when we wake up each day, the food we eat, the cars we drive, the lights we use, to the faucet we turn off, have consequences. And if we don’t start paying attention and noticing the consequences of our actions, it’s akin to jamming a fork into our mother’s eye.
How can we expect her to keep taking care of us if all we do is take, take, take? She needs to recuperate. She needs time to replenish herself and her stores so she can share her bounty with us for years and hopefully millennia to come.
Climate Strike
My whole point is that we need to start standing up for our mother. We need to treat her with the respect and love and appreciation that she deserves. And in order to motivate others to join us in a mutual effort to work together to bring healing to her and, indeed, all of us, we need to take a stand.
If you’ve only been lending half an ear to the latest efforts to bring awareness to climate change, then you may not be fully aware that the youth of the world are asking that we all pay attention and stand up for Mother Earth tomorrow.
We’re being asked to walk out – go on strike – stop working for a time (whether it’s at school or at work or anywhere in between) in order to bring the world to a halt!
Join Me – Join Us – Join Our Youth
Here are a few links to some articles and resources that can explain who, what, when, where, and why.
But the important thing is taking a STAND. Show up. Take responsibility. Don’t be afraid to ‘come out’ as a science believer and a Mother Earth LOVER.
She’s loved us all this time. Let’s love her back – now – when she needs her children to grow the hell up already and stop poisoning her just because we can.
