The call

Blue is the night sky, spread out on the grass, I watch the stars that appear between day and night, between dog and wolf.
My body hugging the grass of the Earth's womb. This is where I feel good and welcome. Here, I am not asked to contribute to anything. I am not compared. Here, I am me, and my body rediscovers the heart of life. I could almost forget my outer shell and become one with the center of this mother who loves me, like all living creatures.
I recharge, I replenish myself and I feel what it is like to be.

In my everyday life, I feel disconnected. I feel lost, as if I'm floating above all reality: an astronaut with an umbilical cord who doesn't really know what he's connected to. I look down and wonder who these people are and what they're doing. I don't understand this hive of activity where everything is organized; I see no meaning in it. I just go with the flow: subway, work, sleep.
And it's like it's not my world, it's not my organic rhythm.

For me, it is the Earth that calls me, the forest, the jungle. The space in which one has the impression of chaos. It is there where I am most attached. I feel the call of the Earth more and more whispering its song to me in the depths of my being. There is no more doubt when it speaks to me, no more dissociation, I am one and I can see the outline of the vision so much greater than myself. Because deep down, who am I in this great whole? My body calls to marry its earth.

I feel that the key is the body. That until I feel good and in harmony with it, the puzzle piece will not find its place, here and now.
Could it be in this body, in this earth, that my work begins?

How many times have I been in this body, suspended, fleeing refuge. How many times have I made the earth of my entrails my own?
Sometimes it's dark, it's uncomfortable, it's teeming with unknown things, things I haven't reached, things that haven't risen to the surface of my consciousness. I believe it's the enemy when I'm in pain, when it's tight, when discomfort overcomes me, when I'm tired. It feels like a swarm of doubt, a pack of fear, an animal anguish.
Why can't I be one with my body?

The Earth calls me to return to my lands of flesh and blood. To be there like a player in the game of life. The door is right here, it's so simple, but not easy. Sweeping, heckled by my stories, my lives, and my torments. I can't always hold on to the handle. I can't see the door inside me. Could loving my life every day in my body save me? Is the body the royal road to my destiny? Appreciating the gifts and wonder of life, could it bring me to where I'm meant to be?

Perhaps the senses are my allies. I feel what presents itself to me, I see beyond appearances, I touch my material and the reliefs of what surrounds me and I taste everything that is offered to me. I hear even if I cannot see. Are all these senses the magic wands of my body that will guide me to the answers to escape the matrix that does not correspond to me?

Today at work, I decide to pay attention. Someone shows me a flyer about a forest: I see. I open the office window and hear the song of the bird I can't see. I feel the wind touching my skin, which has no shape. And I taste the fruits of my meal. All this is so clear when I experience it. I want to experience it in my choices, my actions, my directions.

Tomorrow, I'm leaving by train to visit the largest forest on Earth. I decide to choose the unknown, the familiarity of the landmarks planted in my head. I choose the roots of my heart, the door to my body. Together, we will become one to be in the world, to be one. And bring into the world my unique place that calls to me.