She changes everything she touches…

There is a chant often used among those who worship the divine feminine:

She changes everything she touches, and everything she touches changes.

Yesterday, Gaia shrugged.  Earth shuddered and the blanket we call the crust folded and slipped and twisted, and the bowl of liquid resting on her lap sloshed over the counterpane. 

I have watched and heard many reports on the loss of life and devastation in Japan.  I have great respect for the tremendous strength of the Japanese people and culture; they have lived on the edge of the Ring of Fire for longer than most current European cultures have existed.  The Japanese standards for building construction are amazing; an 8.9 quake in or near any U.S. population center would have flattened entire cities and killed thousands.  And earthquakes are not new to us, and the technologies are not that new either.  We just don’t see the need.  We have options that the people of Japan do not have–more land elsewhere, an enormous economy, e.g.–and we are relentlessly practical when it comes to the bottom line.  If it won’t make a profit in the next quarterly or annual report, why do it?

It’s interesting that the coverage a few weeks ago about the massive quake in New Zealand did not seem to receive quite as much, or quite as thorough, coverage.  There were very few live reports (I actually saw none, but I give the entire U.S. broadcast spectrum the benefit of the doubt) on the national media.  The quake in New Zealand did not threaten a major trading partner or a fellow northern hemispherean, but perhaps more pertinently, did not threaten a tsunami that might make landfall on U.S. territory.   

We are, consciously or not, drawn to tragedies that look like they will affect us, and we are relieved when they do not.  We have the balcony seat in the theatre, eating our popcorn while we watch.  Many individuals jump in to help; many organizations are designed to respond, and often we support them.  Still, mostly we watch. 

We also analyze, complain, pray, beseech, discuss, and otherwise process the experience–even the vicarious experience.  We are creatures of the Earth, creatures of both viscera and intellect,  and we must process our experiences.  Some use art, music, movement, violence–and some use voice.  When we discuss, often enough the conversation is about the uncertainty that this twitching of the Mother’s Body brings into our lives.  We usually recognize that the uncertainty is far greater for those at the center of any natural disaster, but we want some sense of stability for ourselves.  

We can’t have it.  We can have the illusion we create for ourselves, but we cannot have certainty. 

The Earth shrugs her shoulder and reminds us that we don’t control as much as we want to believe we do.  She turns under the blanket of the landscape, tumbling us like toys.  And we remember that we do not define the environment–we are not in charge. 

She changes everything she touches, and everything she touches changes.

Just sayin’.

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