MOTHER EARTH AS A LONE PARENT

Today I imagined the Earth as a lone parent. How it must feel to have children that have little to no regard for you and for the ones that do care about you, to have them constantly criticized or ignored by their siblings. I also wonder how it must hurt to have siblings that are miles apart from you.

You see, Mother Earth is our mother, and we are all her children. Like us, she was created by Him, blessed with the biggest of wombs. Of all her sisters, only she could grow children within her. Our existence, present, past, and future have all happened within her, and our death is our birth. When we die is when Mother’s water breaks, releasing each of us into the world beyond and freeing her from the shackles of our ungratefulness.

Perhaps she feels just like we do. Maybe she dreams just like we do. Maybe she slee--ps. No, that would be mad.

I try to compare one of my many sleepless nights to Mother trying to find rest. Is it the same? Spending all of eternity turning and tossing, trying to find rest. That must be how it is for Mother.

Eternal unrest.

Maybe the apocalypse we dread, she craves. For every time a meteor came bearing bad news, maybe she gleefully welcomed it, “Yes, my time has come.” And for every time the meteors failed in their conquest, her heart broke a little more.

Oh, mother, how it must hurt to be you. To never know what it means to have a companion.

Even her sisters hate her. But isn’t that what we humans do when we crave something another has, something we can never have? The jealousy comes first, then the hate sets in, and finally, the silence.

It was the same thing between Mother and her sisters: Mercury, Venus, Jupiter, Uranus, Saturn, Neptune, Mars, and Mother.

When they were young, they all always knew Mother was different. It became even more obvious when Mother had her first children, the dinosaurs and then us. The sibling rivalry and jealousy started with the arrival of the dinosaurs and intensified when we came into the picture.

Jealousy, hate, and finally, silence.

Mars was the only one of the sisters who didn’t follow the train. But I imagine Mars would hate mother just the same if her womb weren’t at least inhabitable.

But Mother never held her loneliness against her sisters. She wanted the best for them. If Musk succeeded in his plans and a colony is built on mars, she would have contributed to the growing health of her sister, Mars, and now and then, pieces of her sister, specks of grain and sand, would find their way to her, and she wouldn’t feel so alone. Also, Mars going from inhabitable to habitable might cause an understanding that will help the others. Isn’t that the definition of a true sister?

Oh, mother, how it must hurt to be you.

I can say – to some degree – I see you now and I hear you. You are not alone anymore. People will see this, and they might not care still, but you will always have one grateful child.

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