A Call to Kneel
Have you ever been out for a walk when a voice inside you tells you to do something completely unexpected? I have and it happened today.
I was moving through the forest, my dog beside me, when I heard it.
"Drop to your knees."
Immediately, my mind started pushing back. The ground is wet. My jeans will get soaked. I could already picture dark patches of dampness spreading over my knees. And then another thought—What if someone sees me?
This forest isn’t deep in the wild. It’s a patch of green, surrounded by town. A little oasis, but still carved up by roads, baseball fields and tennis courts. It’s not untouched—far from it. The land holds the scars of what’s been taken, what’s been stripped away. And yet, here she still is. Holding on.
The voice pressed again. So, I listened. I dropped to my knees.
My dog settled beside me, completely at peace, as if this moment had always been meant to happen. I instinctively turned toward the east—the direction of the rising sun, of new beginnings. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and called on the ancestors.
Dear Ancestors I ask on behalf of the land to come help heal what has been hurt.
And then, a shift. A sudden pressure in my ear—gentle but unmistakable.
She was with me, Gaia. I called on her to reclaim her sovereignty. To let nature rise up, to heal, to remember itself beyond human hands.
As I rose, knees fully soaked, I totally got it. She had called me to kneel not just for the prayer itself—but so I could feel her. My body pressed against the damp earth, skin to soil. A direct connection. A reminder that despite all that’s been stripped away, she is still alive beneath it all. Waiting.
It wasn’t a long prayer. It didn’t need to be. I had honored the call, and that was enough.
Listening to the Whispers
We all have a path to walk, and the source speaks to us in ways we don’t always expect. Sometimes in synchronicities. Sometimes in a tug at the heart. Sometimes in a voice telling you to kneel in the mud.
It’s easy to ignore, to brush it off, to let the mind talk you out of it. But when you listen—when you trust—you open yourself to something deeper. And in return, the source speaks a little louder.
The more I listen, the more I hear. And the more I hear, the more I remember.
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