Earth holds the memory of all there is in the cosmic dance of climates changing, continents in collisions, life forms unfolding, and mountains rising. Staring at a granite rock with quartz bands, I imagine the plastic history of the earthÕs surface as I turn it over and over in my hands. In moments like this it is possible to feel the earth as evolving and changing, caught momentarily in this beautiful yet transitory form. This is a silent communion, and in that silence I am moved by all that I have been told, by the stories I have heard about the earth...but what if we entered into a conversation between us, Earth and I? What would I hear?
I feel that the Earth holds the memory of what we do, our actions and intentions. I have found it to be a direct and ethical dialogue. This thought has come to me through direct experiences which I will tell as stories. The intent of telling these stories is to demonstrate and to open up memories, sensibilities and recognition about what we naturally know about this dialogue.
A Story from Tibet
Some years ago I went on pilgrimage to Tibet. Initially intending to go alone, at the last minute I found four other pilgrims - two couples, young Americans who were serious Dharma practitioners and students of a Tibetan Buddhist teacher, to travel with. We shared the same goals of pilgrimage to the sacred caves and sites of Central Tibet. Wearing layer upon layer of clothes in the cold December weather, we traveled by bus and foot following the traditional pilgrimage routes described 100 years ago by the great teacher Jamyang Kyentse Wangpo.
One day our travels led us to Drak Yerpa, an ancient pilgrimage and retreat site not far from Lhasa. This was not a site I had been familiar with before arriving in Tibet. I had heard only that here was a cave associated with Guru Rinpoche, also known as Padmasambhava, the teacher famed for establishing Buddhism in Tibet in the 8th Century. I had also heard that there were many retreat caves there as well as the ruins of the Tantric College summer retreat building. As we wandered around the steep hill side and cliffs we found it to be a place layered in history.
We wound our way through the caves and retreat huts watching a delicate snow fall and birds circling at a nearby sky burial site. At last we approached the entrance to the small monastery built out over the Guru Rinpoche cave. We entered with a sense of awe and respect. I asked the monk who met us there if we could meditate inside the cave itself at the foot of the statue of Guru Rinpoche himself. He said yes, and all five of us filed in to sit in the dust on the cold floor of the cave in the narrow space before the statue.
My four friends pulled out their sadhana (meditation text) in Tibetan to chant. I thought I could read the Tibetan script and mumble along with them, understanding a word or two here or there, but not really understanding the practice. Or I could just sit and see what the cave had to offer me directly. I chose the latter, sitting in silence appreciating the devoted chanting by my friends to the great and timeless teacher. As I sat a distinct experience began to dawn upon me. One by one I felt an experience of a profound blessing of each body center (chakra) coming down through the crown of my head, beginning at the base of the spine and proceeding to the crown. Then came an eighth blessing that seemed to be all around me. My mind puzzled: why eight blessings? What was the eighth? I simply sat in that experience until my friends completed their prayers.
Then, as we stepped out of the cave and spoke again to each other, I asked Steve "Is there something to do with the number eight and Guru Rinpoche? What is the eighth blessing?". Steve, who had read up on the cave before we came and who had studied Guru RinpocheÕs life and teachings with his own Buddhist teacher said, "There are eight sacred caves across the Himalayas associated with Guru Rinpoche and each one represents a chakra, this cave is the throat chakra. The eighth beyond the seven body centers is the activity sphere. There are eight major manifestations of Guru Rinpoche".
So, without expectation or prior knowledge I had received this teaching from the cave itself. We could say that the power and intention of Guru RinpocheÕs practice, and that of the centuries of people who have some to this site in reverence have imbedded this profound meaning in the place.
This story raises the question of earth as a matrix which holds human intention and action and communicates it back to us. A wild idea perhaps, but worth exploring. Rabbi Zalman Schacter (current World Wisdom Chair holder at Naropa University) has suggested that spiritual practitioners of a tradition create a hologram of intention in a place that is seen as sacred. I see it as a dialogue between humans and a place where sacredness is perceived, experienced, reflected back and around again. It is neither entirely in the mind nor in the place, but in some ineffable meeting of the two. If we experience the earth as receiving, holding and reflecting back our action and intentions, it is indeed a dialogue where cause and effect, intention and action matter.
A Story from Oklahoma
Flying over the Canadian River enroute to Norman, Oklahoma I saw the beauty of the river carrying deep red earth from the north southward through groves of bright budding Redbud trees along its banks. I had been invited to give a talk at the University of Oklahoma. After the talk, while speaking to the Geography faculty, I learned that the town of Norman has disconnected from the Canadian River which flows through it, effectively "turning their back on it". It is lined with private property with nearly no public access to the river. The banks were eroded, polluted and abandoned, with no effort to create parks or trails along it.
At sunset my friend, a fellow Geographer who had invited me to visit the University, and I went down to the river, finally finding a little park to use as access through the wall of private property. The informal trails along the flood plain were narrow, the area abandoned, thick with brush. We found our way out across a sand bar to watch the sun set. There ,at that magical moment of the day, beauty overcomes for a few moments the sadness of the abuse of the river. The sun gone, the perception of damage and disrespect re-emerge. Walking back I found my mind struggling with the difficulty of connecting with a place people had so abused, disrespected and abandoned. Then I decided no, I can connect, let me not be disconnected by what the culture has done to this place, let me call on the guardian spirit of the place so I can understand it. Suddenly, to my immense surprise, I saw as if at the corner of my peripheral vision a clear image of a native American woman weeping in terrible grief, heart shattering grief. It was a momentary, gripping sight that called oneÕs whole being to weep. I turned to my friend and asked "What happened here?" He replied "There was a terrible massacre of Native American across the river."
Suddenly I could feel the town paved over all that grief, but feeling it and effected by it none-the-less. Again - memories, intention and action imbedded in a place. Later I prayed to those ancestors, praying for their journey and I asked the elders to stay rooted in that place to guide us and teach us.
I tell these stories not because I think they are unique and somehow mystical, but because I feel that we all have deep access to earth memory at all times, whether we receive it consciously or not. Because these stories record some experiences that are genuine and without preconception, I offer them as sign posts to a direct knowing, as primary data, as indicators perhaps of our natural understanding of earth memory. Another way of knowing.
Not long a go I was sitting in a circle interviewing prospective graduate students when my colleague asked us to sit quietly for awhile and then begin to hum a note we heard or felt around us. I sat for awhile listening to the gurgling sounds of the plumbing in the building, relieved to be invited just to sit quietly for a few moments in a busy day. Then, I heard a deeper more pervading sound - that seemed to me to be the sound of the Flatirons, the mountains behind us. I opened my mouth and a deep sound like theirs come out.
We are in deep connection all the time despite our feeling of being absorbed with the human created environment. Earth Memory : sit quietly and ask your place what it has to teach you. You may hear many things. Speaking with respect to the plants, animals, rivers, stones, the spirits of place can bring us the deep connection with the earth and all creation that we seek. Breathe deeply, take a minute to come home and listen.
Anne Zonne Parker, Ph.D. is the Chair of the Environmental Studies Department at tNaropa University. Naropa is a non-profit Buddhist inspired liberal arts college in Boulder, Colorado. Anne can be reached at aparker@naropa.edu.
