A Siren’s Song
By Sarah Justice
Ilay awake before dawn with the weight of the world like a lump in my throat. Hot tea, pajamas, flipflops, and the blanket from my couch that I grab as I walk out the door. The river is calling me, and I can hear her clear sweet voice above the chaos in my head.
My mother tells me to wear this world like a lose garment, but it is hard…in my heart I am still a little girl barefoot in the creek bed, eating wild food from the dark earth, infusing my dreams into the photosynthesis of spring’s new leaves, pure open-hearted joy.
All these seasons later, this is the place I want to come back home to. The world has aged me, and that is good.
Forty two years have slowed me down, gifted me strength and patience. But it has come with the price of the shear unrelenting work of humanness. I have built this ship that I use to sail the seas of Single Mom, Protector of Social Justice, Advocate of the Earth- I am a woman who remembers to bring her reusable bags to the grocery store and takes the compost bucket to her backyard bin after soup from scratch.
I am a woman who feels and tries and wants and does. But my highest truth, above all, is the call of the wild. It is the message of hope in the tight bud of a new flower. The river slapping rocks and reminding me that water always finds a way. The power of sunlight kissing my skin and the comfort of earth beneath my feet.
My relationship with nature is my root and my regular pilgrimage to the river is my wings. When all the work of the world takes my breath and I feel weary, I require sacred communion with the earth to settle myself back into my soul.
The vibration of a living breathing earth reminds me that everything matters, and nothing matters; that literally we are all just organic matter. The messy modern human in me finds grace when I lay down in the fallen leaves and just watch the trees reach for the wind. This is my highest truth; the earth will catch me, and it will be good.
So, thousands of steps have anchored me to this river trail under the moon, in the snow, tears on my face, joy in my heart, muddy waters, naked swims, spring ephemerals, heart shaped rocks, resurrection ferns, and I go again and again because I know- it will be good.
Ironwoods tangle forward daring me to step out to the next rock. The cry of an eagle makes my heart beat faster. A northern water snake eyes me as an equal, wild mother to another, knowing we will do anything it takes to feed and protect our young. When I can no longer hear the swoosh of traffic, I know that I am safe to call out to God and wait to hear the Holy Word.
I can hear my ancestors dragging their wooden canoes out of the water, knowing that their sorrows are my sorrows, and that a thousand years of my grandmothers’ hopes and prayers will find me here. I delight in knowing that a thousand years long after my body has become breakfast for bugs, these rocks will still cherish this day in which I have loved them fully.
This river love, my mermaid joy, this is my legacy of this lifetime. Not my bank account, not my precious children climbing into adulthood, not my land conservation work through many many long hours typing at a computer screen and pushing myself to DO MORE.
When my spirt crosses over I know that my love of the land is what will echo in my children’s ears. They will hear my voice in rainfall and feel my love in dogwoods every spring. It is THIS true love that I have nurtured each day that will live on long after I am gone. This symbiotic love is our ancient magic. I dare each of you to shut your eyes right here where these words have found you; shut your eyes and remember the last time that you truly laid down into the peace and unconditional love that Mother Earth has to offer.
Take a breath. Now witness that even now your shoulders soften, your pulse slows, the lines in your forehead unfurrow just a bit. There is no doubt that there is so much work to do in this life. There is poverty, racism, generational trauma, ecosystem collapse, the bills still need to get paid and no one else is going to wash those dishes. This is all true and important and we must do our very best to Do The Work.
But today, I invite you to put your work down, put your flipflops on, and go to your scared grove. Go to your holy river. Go to the earth and tell her your sorrows, your hopes, your fears- say them out loud. And then listen. Her voice will rise loud and clear. Her strength is begging to fill your veins and lungs. Her peace is ready to mend your heart. You must create the time to love the earth and let her love you back. This is also the holy work of our lifetime.
Go to the river, get in the river, rinse, repeat; this is my siren’s song.
Born in the deep hollers of rural West Virginia, Sarah Justice inherited a reverence for the earth and the commitment to accomplish deep work from a long line of amazing men and women. After earning a degree in education from a historic farming college in the mountains of western North Carolina, she has spent the last 20 years building a career connecting the concepts of social justice and environmental conservation. Food security, ecosystem restoration, water quality, and farmer and garden education have been her primary passions. But, when she is not busily doing all the good work she can do for her career and children, she spends as much time as humanly possible hiking along the banks of the rivers near her home in Pittsboro, NC.
