Earth my body
Water my blood,
Air my breath
And fire my spirit…
Such goes a Pagan circle chant, which I learned years ago, dancing in a circle at an Earth Gathering. Circle chants have the quality of messengers, traveling on the breath and lips of young and old, shared wherever people gather, all over the Earth.
I continually encounter this chant in circles around the globe, sang in its original English or translated into a local language. Pagan traditions tend to stay close to Earth, while spreading their spirit wings and flying all over.
Having set off on a quest to the four directions, having invited the elements into our daily life, and having embarked on the creation of a personal altar, let's get intimate with each of the four elements.
Earth my body calls the chant and reminds us that we are of the Earth our Mother, that our body and Hers are one.
Before we walk on the Earth, we roll and crawl as babies.
Her hold, the force of gravity, keeps us safe. We can count on Her to always support our weight; it is comforting to know She will always be beneath our feet.
As a baby nurses and grows from its mother's body, so are we sustained by our Mother Earth. Our food grows from Her body, replenishes itself seasonally from seed. Her caves used to shelter us, while the actual substance of Her can be made into mud dwellings.
Earth is associated with the North in most pagan and indigenous traditions.
In Hebrew the word for North is 'tzafon,' which comes from the root word for hidden or concealed.
What is hidden within the Earth? Evidently, roots. The entire plant kingdom is rooted in Earth, and so are we, as our ancestors are concealed within Her body.
In the same way that seeds draw life force from Mother Earth, and trees draw food, so do we pull our strength from those who have walked before us.
Our roots, metaphorical as they may be, feed from a myriad of cultures now buried underneath us.
Indigenous Elders stay close to Earth. No longer pulled by the stream of life's activity they sit down to contemplate. Joining their own quiet listening to the silence of the Earth, they draw insights for their tribe.
Indigenous women sit in Moon Huts or Lodges during their Moon Time, their menstrual flow. In the Moon Lodge women sit and sleep on the Earth, drawing guidance from her ancient wisdom. Exempt from all daily activity a woman who flows is believed to be connected to the Great Mystery and her tribe entrusts her with life-and-death questions to be answered in her dreams.
How can we connect with Her in our fast paced, paved, noise permeated existence or in our quiet countryside life?
Listening seems to be a first step. Taking slow walking-meditations, and listening with our feet rather than our ears, may bring surprises up even from a city side-walk… Closing our eyes and sensing the soles of our feet, we may want to send roots into the fertile soil beneath us, holding a question in mind.
Silence may well be the next step. For if the Wind blows and Waters rush and Fire hisses, the Earth is silent. And so are the Earth substances: rocks, stones, boulders and crystals.
Another way of opening to the quality of ancient silence that the Earth bears, is connecting with that which has been buried in Her for many human lifetimes. Walking, without a particular goal in mind, a rock may present itself or a stone may want to make us acquaintance. Slowing down and listening silently could prove very fruitful.
Years ago, walking by the ancient stone circle at Avebury, UK, a group of us marveled at its energy. "They don't know we are here," said one of us out of the blue. "Who?" asked another. "The stones…" came the reply.
For those who stand there in storms and heat, eons of years on end, the few hours of our visit are not a fleeting moment, but rather an imperceptible occurrence, infinitely smaller than an eye blink. And so, perspective is another gift that Earth and Her substance can grant us. Provided, of course, that we lose our watches, or at least the tendency to glance at them.
When we make our transition into the Spirit world, our bodies are buried in the Earth. All organic matter turns into Earth given time. Last autumn's leaves provide mulch to nourish this spring's gardens. Leftover vegetables are composted into soil. The great round of life: sprout, flower, fruit and seed is grounded in the Earth.
When I first started studying Earth-based Paganism, I mulled the concepts over in my mind. But it wasn't until I started gardening that I really got it.
Getting my hands muddy, I descended from the loftiness of spirituality into the Earth-based part of it. Tending my garden through the seasonal cycles I learned patience. Another great attribute of Mother Earth.
Listening, silence, patience, renewal. All of these I learned from my garden.
In cities' porch planters or in country gardens, staying tuned to Earth while getting our hands dirty may just be the ticket for sprouting wings while rooting in the muck.