Threads of Belonging: Remembering Our Place in the Earth's Story

We are not apart from the Earth . . . we are a part of her. Every breath we take, every seed we sow, every step we make on this soil… it’s all relationship.

My own relationship with the Earth began early, woven through the places that shaped me. In the Bahamas, where sky and sea meld into endless blue. In Bermuda, under the Milky Way with the deep, mysterious Atlantic breathing below. Later, in Texas, then in the vastness of Africa with its herds of wildlife, still roaming free, in the wilds of Namibia, the intrigue of Madagascar, and eventually in a small cottage garden in England. Then back to Texas and thrown in between some Appalachia living.

Each place tugged a different thread of belonging, teaching me what grows, what endures, and how the soul finds itself again and again through tending the Earth.

Of course, I didn’t realize then how those threads were pulling me toward the life I live now. This heart-work of tending plants, wild things, and the Earth herself . . . and through this care, I can only hope guiding us back toward belonging.

Some threads grew stronger through hardship and heartache. One of my deepest aches is witnessing the harm done to our living planet — to love her so fiercely, to feel such awe and reverence, and to watch the continued… let’s be honest… assault on the land, water, beings, and systems that sustain us. This harm touches not only the Earth, but our personal well-being, our communities, and every living thing that coexists with us. It’s heavy I know, but necessary. For now is the moment to open our eyes.

Now is the time to step up.To look beyond the tiny circle of self and see the wider weave of life — a world in decline, yes, but also still full of possibility.

To live in harmony with our environment is to become a student of our own life. To notice, to tend, to choose differently. To ask, with sincerity and humility: What does it look like for me to participate?

Maybe it’s planting native flowers. Saving water. Leaving the leaves for moths and beetles. Supporting regenerative farmers or farmer's markets, volunteering to plant native grasses . . . Or simply slowing down — long enough to remember that you belong to this Earth… and that she’s been waiting for you to notice.

Grounded in gratitude, Christina