When you look up at the stars at night, you can feel your soul called by something higher, something free of worldly desires and attachments (the things like wealth and fame, which so often draw us away from our hearts and the appreciation of the most valuable things in life, like love and the simple comforts of adequate food and water and shelter). The little things that beset our daily lives can fade away and be replaced by our birthright, the sense of wonder with which we entered the world, the childlike reverence for just being in such amazing company, in bodies, with stars in the night sky and trees and birds and hills and rivers to gaze upon and walk within during the day. The wisdom of the stars – the great story they retell every night, encapsulated in countless systems of astrological lore, the constellations of timeless tales reminding us of how to live right in temporal and physical circumstances, how we can modify our destructive tendencies according to the better potentials of our personal tendencies, how to find accord with the songlines of the universe – this is what I am calling celestial intelligence. Reminding us of who we are and can be and come from – the great explosion of life in the universe, the fire lit in immeasurable, countless, unimaginably vast galaxies and stars and planets; and us, so lucky to have arisen here in human form, like the Mud People of the Hopi* emerging from the soil of life and looking about and breathing in and giving thanks.
Then comes Earth Wisdom. Where the stars at night teach us openness and vastness, freedom and expansiveness, the earth asks us to be true to this place and its limits. I don’t use the word limits here in a pejorative sense. I mean the realities of life, which comes with death written into its original agreement, as we lease these bodies from the biosphere; which requires for survival clean water, fertile soil and fresh air; which punishes anything that destroys its own habitat, whether that be elephants eating out all the grass in a good year to find none left for its expanded herd in the following season, or humans overexpanding in their own technologically developed ways. Earth Wisdom is absolutely unforgiving and therefore utterly clear (although we can erect barriers to it so effective that we can momentarily convince ourselves that it is not so, that we can enjoy an eternal feast in the halls of immortality – a falsely optimistic tale now becoming undone after a blindingly brief amount of time, mere centuries, a moment in the oceans of eternity). Earth Wisdom asks that we engage in and develop relations with all our kin, the other life forms on earth as well as immediate family, out to the other tribes in a planetary network of fair trade, the other animals and plants and rocks and rivers, all of whom are known as people in so many beautiful, traditional cosmologies. Earth Wisdom asks us to look at the small things, the grains of sand on the beach or in the soil outside the home, the little daisies poking their heads up out of the grass, the grass itself, perennial as love, the terrestrial teachers such as lizards (so patient in the patch of sun on the rock, awaiting the fly), the fish who take advantage of currents to roam the oceans and seas, sometimes returning to their place of spawning as if magnetized by life, the sea turtles doing the same, the way clouds form and drench us with life giving rains, the way this turns to storm and rends our cities with death and destruction under certain climatic circumstances.
When we instill our acceptance of a life of earthly limits with a sense of endless awe we can live in harmony with the greatness of the universe. This is what the combination of Celestial Intelligence and Earth Wisdom offers.
*Mud People of the Hopi – yup, that’s another story …
Images: 1. Milky Way over desert. 2. Mud Head Kachina from the Airzonan Hopi, Honolulu Museum of Art; photo by Hiart (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons. 3. Lichen and fungi on a wet rock, Cradle Mountain, Tasmania; photo by author.