The Gift of Gaia
More than a Goddess
Gaia sat in her favorite chair and stared at her coffee cup. She should be doing a billion different things right now; a Greek goddess who is mother to the Earth and several gods, is expected to maintain a certain level of engagement. She was exhausted though. These days, it turned out that she spent most of her time as a go-between for gods and humans. The two had never really seen eye to eye, but things had gotten exponentially complex over the course of evolution. The gods were stuck in the comfort of stability from following the formula that had served them well for eons. The humans were interesting creatures, constantly learning and growing, making mistakes, manufacturing hope, and often taking counterintuitive actions to fulfill their hearts.
Somehow, Gaia saw both sides. She wasn’t any smarter or powerful than any of the other divine beings, really. Her biggest gift was being open minded. That’s how it all started; one conversation with Zeus about morals and pretty soon everyone was running to her with questions about the situations that had them stuck. Generally, it was an obvious choice; the primal nurturer and caretaker would logically be looked to in a case of frustration, confusion or pain. Who did she go to when she had questions though? Somehow every time she approached a peer to get their perspective on things, the conversation inevitably turned into either a confessional or workshop for the other being. She benefited from the joy of giving care, but she ended up having more questions and being more exhausted than she was before she started.
It wasn’t just mediating between cosmic beings and mortals either. She was responsible for keeping the little blue and green ball alive and well, and humans were making that awfully tricky. Gaia had the unenviable job of walking a tightrope between letting the humans learn and grow and transforming their socioeconomic bubble through different ages. It started with tools and wheels and, at least from the perspective of an immortal, quickly launched into a seeming attack on the very planet that housed them. The same patterns repeated time and again; discovery, development, introduction to the masses, growth, maturity, and decline. It had been rough going, but a new awareness seemed to be blooming among the humans; they were seeing the impact of their decisions and looking more at long term results. This was happening mostly in the younger generations, and Gaia’s heart cried out at the existential crisis that held them in a crippling grasp. Sometimes Gaia could marvel at the fact that the conflicts between the younger and older generations so closely modeled those between the humans and gods. Most times she was just sad, and a little lost herself; it was a heavy load to carry hope and possibility for all things in existence.
Maybe being open-minded wasn’t her power; maybe it was optimism. Somehow, amidst the deepest, darkest, seemingly unsolvable situation, she could see an atomic glimmer of possibility. When pushed to her limit, her mind inevitably asked that question that kept her going, made her the keeper of the hearts; what if…. She drew on that glimmer now. One of the wonderful and awful things about omniscience was not knowing everything, necessarily, but being able to see all possibilities simultaneously. Humans couldn’t do that; the best they could do right now, at least, was to accept the fact that this was a possibility. The gods took it for granted. To them, everything seemed obvious and easy, which was probably why they held so closely to their standard operating procedures. Humans were a different sort, though. They were unpredictable! Sometimes they made one choice and sometimes another, and it wasn’t always easy to see the what and why behind their actions. She found this characteristic fascinating; especially when coupled with the infinite possible outcomes available.
Gaia sipped at her cooling drink and sat back to reflect on the idea of unpredictability. Maybe the key to keeping all the balls in the air was to look at the subtle magic of volatility. When she sat down this morning, she’d been focused on the muck of things. Maybe now it was time to look at the growth and beauty that might spring from the muck. She took a big cleansing breath and did her best to find and claim the innocent heart that would help guide her, if she let it. As she washed and dried her coffee cup, she felt her perspective shifting. With a soft smile, she made her way towards her busy day and committed to finding the potential for good in the chaos.
 |
|