Two times ago, I wrote about the word "heavenly" -- I guess it makes sense that I turn to its arguable opposite, "earthy", with its several meanings. When I wrote my list all those years ago, I think I had in mind unashamedly being of the earth, being rooted in the soil and on this planet. A spirituality of being physical, with all its pain and beauty, odors and beautiful vistas, animal instincts and poetic stirrings. In other words, the spirituality of finding moments of heaven here, not waiting for a great future moment of transcendence.
An observation I've read in various sources over the years is that man has historically sought to transcend the physical and earthy. That would certainly help to explain all sorts of things, from cathedrals to skyscrapers to space flight to complex legal, religious, and economic systems, to suburban sprawl. There has been a bias against the earth and earthiness, all that natural dirtiness, wildness, and power. Several definitions of the word slide toward disrespect for Nature, the earth, and women: someone may be said to have an "earthy" sense of humor when their focus is on sex, bodily functions, etc. We women have also been caught up in the aversion toward the physical, learning to hide natural processes like our periods, breastfeeding, and menopause. It's also interesting that we've been blamed for humanity's downfall, for the "sin" of eating the beautiful, lush, delicious, healthy fruit of a tree. In any other context, this would be seen as valid enjoyment of Nature's bounty...
I am one of the least earthy women on the planet (Yes, I am sure I have said this before!) Wilderness isn't my natural habitat. I'm more drawn to seeing Nature than being in it or putting my hands in the dirt. I have tended to be far more comfortable in carefully cultivated gardens than in fields of wildflowers, more comfortable with Hudson River School painters' depictions of mountains than the mountains themselves, watching a wildly wavy Great Lake from a shoreside window rather than standing where the water soaks me. I am more comfortable in a cathedral where the fan vaulted ceiling reminds me of trees, than under the trees themselves.
But Nature is increasingly moving me. Eagle sightings (fairly frequent right now) thrill me. The full moon thrills me. Interesting patterns and shapes on dying leaves thrill me. I am looking out at a bone-dry landscape, autumn's earthy hues on steroids: tans, browns, dark greens and a little bit of rust red. It has been too dry to smell the normally moist fallen leaves and the pre-winter soil. Rain (and perhaps snow) is due tonight. Winter tends to sap the earthiness out of the landscape, once it is too cold to smell the dirt, so I'm glad to have been reminded of my potential earthiness before that thick frozen ground cover returns. I'm glad that I'm slowly starting to feel that I belong to the Earth more than I do to a civilization. Perhaps in that way, I am slowly starting to be genuinely "earthy".
