Accelerating climate change casts an increasingly dark shadow over humanity – and the rest of the planet – as well as a wonderful opportunity for each of us to deepen our conscious connection with the Earth.
Quantum physics tells us that everything is interconnected – and that includes us humans, although our tendency to blind exceptionalism usually obscures this fact from our conscious awareness.
This interconnectedness exists on multiple levels. We both influence and are influenced by our environment on a continuous basis. If we interact with our environment unconsciously then we are similarly at risk of being the victim of the unconscious effects of Nature, and that is the risk we are running with climate change.
Yet Nature is capable of the most exquisitely nuanced control. Think of the one house that remains untouched in a neighbourhood that is ravaged by storm or fire or flood or earthquake. Because the human mindset is still embedded in a sort of collective solipsism we view such occurrences as random. But are they?
One of the questions Gary Douglas, co-founder of Access Consciousness, asked in the run up to the Earth Class was “What does the Earth know about you?”
Huh??? Yet at some level you and I and the Earth are one. We are all expressions of the Earth, intimately and inseverably connected to it. Does Earth has a consciousness? Yes. Everything has consciousness. The Earth doesn’t have a human consciousness but it is conscious. Like the human body it is a conscious multi-layered self-organising system of unbelievable complexity.
That the Earth is aware of us as individuals used to be a stretch too far for me too. Way too far! What created the first tiny fracture in the smooth steely surface of my self-absorbed certainty was an earthquake. It wasn’t the fact of the earthquake. (I live in an area that is prone to the occasional earthquake.) It was the timing of it. And what happened at the exact same time.
I had just come home from the vet’s office. In the space of about 18 months I had lost all the remaining people in my life who were dearest to me, and now my mischievous young Abyssinian cat Negus, my husband’s last birthday present to me before he died, had had to be put down.
It was all too much. One last loss too many. I walked over to my desk by the window and sat down, feeling completely alone, overcome by a desolateness deeper than I had ever experienced before. It was a place where there was no hope or desire to live left.
Then in that moment I felt the earth begin to shake, ever so gently. Startled I looked up. It was a cloudless mid-summer afternoon and out of that cloudless sky, as the earth shook gently beneath me, hail began to fall from the sky like tiny crystalline tears.
At some deep level I realised that the Earth was grieving with me, grieving for me. That it was intimately connected with me, with each one of us.
It was such a strange and inexplicable experience that I struggled with it for years. But over the years I began to learn in other ways that the Earth is perfectly willing to respond to us if we respond to it. There were so many examples.
I used to be afraid of flying. Now I found that if I put out a request for smooth flying conditions a few days beforehand, invariably, without exception, even in the middle of severe weather, the flight would be smooth and untroubled.
And there were all the times when I didn’t even know to ask:
There was one of those multi-decade storms that caused complete havoc in the area, bringing down trees everywhere and blocking roads. Despite having several patches of beech forest – and New Zealand “beech” trees are notoriously shallow-rooted – I lost no trees at all. I was the only one. There wasn’t even a single branch down on the drive which curves round through the forest.
Then there was the massive lightning strike (I thought it was an explosion) a year later that knocked out all the phones in the area, frying a good many computers and TV sets as well, and requiring technicians to be brought in from across the country for several weeks to fix all the damage. Inexplicably, my house and a single cottage a mile or so down the road were the only ones unaffected that I know of.
On another occasion heavy snow had been forecast overnight. I live deep in the countryside and heavy snow can pose a real problem because it makes access in and out of my property difficult as well as bringing down branches. When the heavy snow hadn’t materalised by midday I rang a neighbour and asked where all the snow was that we’d been promised. He laughed and said he didn’t know, but he’d seen the snowplough heading down the road that morning. We assumed it must have been heading for the ski field which had been having some access problems because of snow. Later we learnt that all the roads in every direction had been blocked by over a metre of snow, yet within a half mile radius of where we lived there was no snow.
A year or so later a polar blast brought snow down to sea level in the South Island and even sub-tropical Auckland in the north of the North Island saw snow for the first time in living memory. Vast parts of the country were blanketed in thick snow, yet in the mountainous sub-alpine area where I live we received only the thinnest covering of snow which was all gone by afternoon.
Coincidences? There have been so many of them that I’ve had to give up this comfortable conclusion. And it’s not just me. I’ve heard many other people who have developed a close connection with the Earth describe similar experiences. If you respond to the Earth it begins to respond to you.
That collective human emotions affect the Earth’s electromagnetic field has been conclusively established by the HeartMath Institute’s Global Coherence Monitoring System.
Another example I’ve noticed over the years is when there is a global event that large numbers of people have been looking forward to. Take things like the London Olympics or the British royal wedding, and other similar events. Often the weather forecast has been bad, yet the event itself takes place in great weather, as if the happy collective anticipation affected the weather itself.
What if how climate change manifests depends on each one of us?