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I’ve lived my life in a cage; I want to die in the wild.

I want to crawl into the Earth and pull her rich, green grasses and flowered meadows over me, to cover me in her warmth, to take me home. I want to die wild.

I’ve been caged by my thoughts, by the rules of others, by the constructs of ignorance for too long—I lived these consciously and unconsciously and with the privations of a homogenized, gentrified, and domesticated society that I cannot understand and that cannot understand me.

I am a child of the Earth, not of man. My tongue speaks another language and my heart bleeds for another cause.

I don’t belong here in these concrete walls, staring out a window onto painted bricks. Where are the trees? Where are the birds? Where is the song that I used to know before I got lost here in this bastardized world? This world with the estranged Mother?

She’s only silent because we can no longer hear Her. We’re not listening. We’ve cut ourselves off, moved away, forgotten the laws of nature and abundance, forgotten Her wisdom; now, as a consequence, we’re sickening, dying and we’re killing Her too. In killing Her, we’ve killed ourselves.

We cannot hate our Mother without hating ourselves. We cannot abuse Her without abusing each other. Even if we try to scatter the external manifestations of our internal jaded and festering wounds to the corners of the earth, we cannot escape our own creations of destruction.

Why are pharmaceuticals good, even green lighted, while nature is illegal and surrounded by red tape? Why does the majority scorn those who refuse to sign their fallacious social contract? Why have our bodies become a complete capitalistic commodity in which we must pay to be born and pay to die, numbered, for “accountability” purposes? Why are those who want to welcome a new age of respect, well-being, and love now synonymous with quacks? Why is anyone who dares to question the status quo now a weaver of conspiracy?

This is the true conspiracy: we have been gaslit by egos that feel so powerless they must control everything. The irony is, that in its acquisition of control, the ego chokes the life out of everything and becomes the harbinger of its very own demise.

What happened to us? The real us? How can we reclaim our authentic selves in this world of widely-propagated falsities? What is the way back? What’s the way out? How do we remember the song that our Mother used to sing us to sleep and to wake us with the dawn? The song that put our life into rhythm and our chaos into order?

We need to feel again; we’ve become numb to Her pain and Her cries for help. Even Her apparent stress has become politicized and debatable. We need to feel Her if we’re going to help Her. We need to put our hands in the dirt, our feet on the sands, and our bodies under friendly trees and cloud-feathered skies and into Her deep, rapturous waters, and where we cannot, we need to tend to Her wounds. We need to ask for Her forgiveness for what we’ve done in ignorance. We need to forgive ourselves for projecting our limitation and self-hatred solely onto Her.

We need to spend time with Her. We need to get to know Her, to remember, to remember. We need to remove the poisons and the refuse we’ve littered Her with. We need to remove the poisons within ourselves. We need to establish that innate trust, that innate knowing that we are not separate from Her or what we do to Her. It’s time to take responsibility.

We need to forge a connection so strong that we can feel the beat of Her heart in sync with our own. This isn’t just about us—one-sided, nonreciprocal-taking—this is about Her too. We need to yield to Her if we truly want to live. We need to remember who we are, because we have almost completely forgotten. And it’s almost too late.

We need to surrender ourselves to the wild—from the wild we were born and to the wild we must return.

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