The season is late summer, the earth that cradles and nurtures the life that depends upon it. It is the soil that feeds us, the structure that holds us, it is the centre of gravity, serenity and stability.
Time of day is the afternoon.
In the body, the yin is the spleen and the yang is the stomach.
The power of the earth element comes from the capacity to link, nurture and sustain.
Earth types are generally home birds, the person that hosts the family, provides support, wants to be involved and needed and likes to be in charge although not in the limelight. They are agreeable and accommodating and want to be all things to every body.
The earth type seeks harmony and togetherness, insists on loyalty, security and unpredictability.
But why do we need earth? Well, have you ever felt like you are on cloud 9? After a big achievement? Maybe a huge compliment? Ever felt after that like you feel distracted, you procrastinate, can’t concentrate?
You’ve been lifted so high off the ground you are unable to find the earth, the stability, the grounding – and you need that to bring you back on track – we all have jobs to do, roles to fill and that’s what we need the earth for.
So surely you can’t get enough earth right? Wrong again, as always in yoga it’s all about balance – too much earth takes you to that primal territory, that gang warfare, think Gangs of New York? Too attached to your tribe and the ground you walk on and you might do anything for it – anything.
Plus, let’s not forget our home (or our earth, our grounding) is a possession, too much attachment on that can cause damage (please refer to your Yamas and Niyamas for that lil’ refresher) – let me explain:
My family have been farming the same land for 107 years – three generations at Middleton House Farm. My family’s blood, sweat and tears are in that soil – literally, the ancient woodland (North Wood) that sits on the farm is home to the resting place of my beautiful Nanny Barbara, her brother my dear Great Uncle Alan (who always said ‘you look just like our Barbara), my Nanny Audrey (who sadly I never met), along with Cherry, Poppy, Rex and Sue the dogs, Tinger and Sooty the cats.
It’s the woodland where a bomb fell in World War II, it’s home to the endangered Martigan Lily, it’s full of the most beautiful bluebells and snowdrops in Spring time, where my nanny loved to walk and her ashes now rest, it’s home to her cherry tree which we planted when I was eight years old when she died, it’s the wood where my dad built the Gordon Brick Road, it’s where we used to go off roading, where my friend Claire and I used to run away from home, it’s the farm where we used to have barn dances, where I sang with my first band (we were called Melanin and I did a mean Nancy Sinatra’s These Boots are Made For Walking), it’s where we had birthday parties, weddings, celebrated births and mourned deaths.
It’s what makes me a ‘Farmer’s Daughter’.
It’s our ground, our history, our heritage – firmly rooted there, and in all honesty I never ever wanted to leave home – why would I? It’s the most beautiful place on earth.
I did move home, and although I will never be as settled as I am in my home town of Birmingham, it was probably for the best, because that very attachment is what’s currently consuming my mother right now – eating her up with depression as she stays stranded on the lonely island that was her safe space, her home…
You see, HS2 (High Speed Rail) is set to go straight through that farm – taking years of hard work, memories and the future of my parents’ lives as they know it with them.
Too much earth is eating my mum up from the inside, too much attachment and too much possession.
Don’t get me wrong, it breaks my heart too talking about it (I am currently crying right now) – but too much earth can make you overprotective, meddling, worry and obsess and doubt, it can give you unrealistic expectations and often disappointment.
So we have to create space, and find balance as always.
Regardless of whether you think the Government is a useless bunch of t*****s and that the money spent on a useless vanity project like HS2 should in fact be invested in the existing rail network, or even go to help cure cancer, or help the homeless, or anything than putting it into that stupid waste of a space of a train line that I prefer to call HS-poo…
Balance always comes best after I get something off my chest first… it seems – I created the space you see 😉