From the moment of our creation, our life has been shaped by the mycorrhizal pathways that connect us to each other, which nourish our very essence. In this Kawoq, we want to make a space for reflection, as we question: what is our community?
We were taught that our family and friends are the ones to care for, to look after, but is that truly the full picture? The trees might offer a different perspective, as in their hearts they hold a memory so old that now it appears to be a faraway echo. The saplings are too young to remember, but there was a time when humans walked among the pines and the wildflowers, holding dialogue with all beings around them.
An ant gathering crumbs in the kitchen, a lizard making his way to the sunlight, or a weed quietly growing on our porch are our friendly neighbors; how sad that they are now seen as pests. For years they have been killed for simply existing. Just because a being is smaller than us, because they are not as beautiful as a butterfly in midflight, or simply because we don’t understand them, does not give us the right to take away their lives or disrespect them. Let us be the kindness in a rather unkind world.
Desde el momento de nuestra creación, nuestra vida ha sido moldeada por las raíces que nos conectan entre nosotros y nutren nuestra esencia. En este Kawoq, queremos crear un espacio para la reflexión, mientras nos preguntamos: ¿cuál es nuestra comunidad?
Nos enseñaron que nuestra familia y nuestros amigos son aquellos a quienes debemos cuidar y proteger, pero ¿es esa la realidad completa? Los árboles podrían ofrecer una perspectiva diferente, puesto que en sus corazones guardan un recuerdo tan antiguo que ahora parece un eco lejano. Los retoños son demasiado jóvenes para recordarlo, pero hubo un tiempo en que los seres humanos caminaban entre los pinos y las flores silvestres, dialogando con todos los seres que los rodeaban.
Una hormiga que recoge migajas en la cocina, una lagartija que se dirige hacia la luz del sol o una hierba que crece silenciosamente en nuestro porche son nuestros vecinos amistosos; es una lástima que ahora se les considere plagas. Durante años se les ha matado por el simple hecho de existir. El que un ser sea más pequeño que nosotros, que no sea tan hermoso como una mariposa en pleno vuelo o que simplemente no lo comprendamos, no nos da el derecho a quitarle la vida ni a faltarle al respeto. Seamos la bondad que queremos ver en el mundo.
As the roots of rationality spread across the globe, feeding the human with knowledge and science, the light of the world dimmed a little. The human species became mechanical and robotic, losing a part of its essence. The hearth of the universe flows with magic, crackling in sparks of wonder and in melodies of beauty.
The power of Mother Earth expands beyond our gaze and immediate sight. In our paths, we might have walked among giant millenary trees, travelled across vast oceans painted in all shades of blue, or stopped to observe great canyons and mountains. While beautiful and powerful, those are just the surface level.
In the moment of our creation, as our eyes fluttered open and our pupils adjusted to the light, our soul saw a world anew. During our explorations, caressing the earth with every small step, everything seemed to be unknown yet so beautiful. A drop of water or a leaf pirouetting as it danced in the wind was magical. Slowly, as the earth became more and more familiar, we shut down our vision.
Mother Earth has been patiently waiting for our awakening.
Our life is composed of a weaving of paths, each thread carefully looped with every step we take. As E is the energy of the path, this trecena is a beautiful invitation for reflection. In every moment we are shaping our destiny, every action we take forms a curve on our road. The beauty is that we get to choose which direction we want to take.
In every moment we live, there is medicine for our being.
The person who must believe most in the greatness within us is ourselves.
One of the most beautiful things we can offer the world is what we become when we do the real inner work.