Huzzah! Today is the fourteenth day of my twice-daily prayers for the Earth. I just held my 8am Zoom prayer session, and at 1pm I’ll be traipsing my trusty A1 sign into town. It looks everso slightly tatty already - what’s that lovely American work, janky?
One of the unexpected delights of this little eco-activist project of mine is that for the vast majority of my prayers I have had company. There are a hardy band of three folk who more often than not join me for fifteen minutes of silence in the mornings. Friends, sangha members and fellow activists have been joining me in town. On Saturdays I have a whole bunch of company as I join the folk who’ve been vigiling for the Earth every Saturday for three years. It is really very lovely.
What am I learning?
⭐ It is very good for my soul to sit in town in the weather for ten minutes of silence - the delicious heat of late September sun, the kiss of a cool breeze, the blessing of drizzle.
⭐ My brain snags on small discomforts such as having to lug the (very light but big) sign into town and back, or trying to work out when I can walk the dogs and eat around my lunchtime prayer appointment.
⭐ It is gratitude to the Earth that bubbles up more frequently than stabs of grief, and, both are precious.
⭐ I am very small, and I am doing a very small thing, and it feels pretty good.
If you’re interested in holding Zoom meetings in the mornings for folk from non-UK time zones (it’s pretty simple) do let me know. You’d be SO welcome to join me at 8am UK time on Zoom if you are ever free - just drop in - and if you’re ever near Great Malvern even better.
Onwards.
Gratitude for your support - good wishes, spiritual, financial - it means a great deal.
Go gently,
Satya <3
PS I’ve updated my little prayer booklet and added a few more poems that are out of copyright. Here it is! One of my favourites of the new prayers is Basanta Panchami (below). Maybe you’ll read it to the Earth right now. Enjoy 🙏🏻
Basanta Panchami
To-day, after a year, on the sacred fifth day, Nature has flung away her worn raiment, and with new jewels, see, with fresh buds and new shoots she has begemmed herself and smiles. The birds wing their way, singing with joy; ah, how lovely! The black bee hums as if with sound of “Ulu! ulu!” he wished good fortune to Nature. The south breeze seems to say as it flits from house to house, “To-day Bīnāpāni comes here to Bengal.” Arrayed in guise that would enrapture even sages, maid Nature has come to worship thy feet, O propitious one! See, O India, at this time all pay no heed to fear of plague, famine, earthquake; all put away pain and grief and gloom; to-day all are drunk with pleasure. For a year Nature was waiting in hope for this day to come. Many folk in many a fashion now summon thee, O white-armed one; I also have a mind to worship. Thy two feet are red lotuses; but, say, with what gift shall we worship thee, O mother Bināpāni? Ever sorrowful, ever ill-starred are we women of Bengal, all of us. Yet if thou have mercy, this utterly dependent one will worship thee with the gift of a single tear of devotion shed on thy lotus feet. Graciously accept that, and in mercy, O white-armed one, grant this blessing on my head on this propitious, sacred day, that this life may be spent in thy worship, Mother.
(translated by Lilian M. Whitehouse)
I love that you are doing this.
Such a beautiful and touching prayer. Thank you for sharing it.