My Love Letter to Mother Gaia on Her Special Day + A Simple Practice to Honor the Earth (and Her Guardians)

My Love Letter to Mother Gaia on Her Special Day

Today, I spent the afternoon with the Earth.
Not in a metaphorical way, but truly with her—with my hands in the dirt, my bare feet in the grass, my breath slower, softer.

In gratitude to her on this Earth Day, I offered tobacco to the land—tobacco gifted to me by one of my beautiful clients. In many Indigenous traditions, tobacco is used as a sacred offering, a way of saying thank you, a gesture of respect. It’s said to carry prayers to the spirit world and to protect what it touches. I placed it gently on the land where I live, whispering gratitude for all that this Earth continues to give—and to the teachers who have shared this medicine with me. I thank them and their people.

I pruned the garden slowly. Mindfully.
Moving from one plant to the next like I was greeting old friends. I gave love to the herbs, the flowers, the strawberries and tomatoes, the cucumbers and zucchini—every living thing that’s decided to grow here alongside me. Many of them I thought I had lost in the last freeze. I was sure they were gone. But somehow, almost magically, they’ve begun to sprout again. Tiny shoots. New leaves. A little green here, a little hope there. Life pushing through.

So I said hello to the new babies. I welcomed them. I lingered long enough to feel them respond.

There’s something sacred about giving your presence to the land. I walked barefoot through the yard, grounding into the now, my baby Palo padding alongside me gently, supervising—as if he too was offering his presence. We spent that time together, slow and soft, just being with the Earth. I lit a little Wild Rue, calling in my grandmothers—watching the smoke curl and spiral, allowing the Earth to take what she wanted, and holding a quiet prayer in my chest for everything I couldn’t name.

And then I just… slowed down.
I watched the squirrels gather food like they always do.
I sent a wave of love to the doves I heard cooing in the trees.
I let my body soften, remembering that everything I have—everything I’ve built, created, received—has only been possible because this Earth sustains me. Nourishes me. Holds me.

So this is my little love letter to her.

Thank you, Mother Gaia, for everything you offer.
For the beauty, the bounty, the breath.
For the quiet lessons and the loud ones.
For the way life returns, even when we think it won’t.
I love you.

A Simple Practice to Honor the Earth (and Her Guardians)

If you feel called, here’s a simple, beautiful practice you can do today—or any day—to connect more deeply with the land beneath you:

🌿 Step Outside.
Place your bare feet on the land—grass, dirt, sand, stone—whatever is available to you. Take a few breaths to arrive.

🌿 Acknowledge the Guardians.
Every piece of land has its own spirit. Its own memory. Its own guardians. These guardians are the unseen energies—some ancient, some elemental, some ancestral—that tend to and protect the land. They are not here to be “used” or summoned, but to be acknowledged, respected, and honored.

Whether you call them spirits, devas, elementals, ancestors of place, or simply unseen beings, the most important thing is to approach with reverence.

🌿 Introduce Yourself.
Speak aloud or silently to the land:
_"Hello. My name is ___. I live here. I honor the guardians of this land. Thank you for allowing me to be here. I ask for your blessings and your protection as I move through this day."
Let it be natural. Let it be sincere.

🌿 Offer Something in Return.
Reciprocity matters. You might offer your breath, a song, a pinch of herbs or tobacco, a flower, a cup of water, or simply your gratitude. It doesn’t have to be fancy—it just has to be real.

🌿 Listen and Feel.
Take a few quiet moments to tune in. You might feel warmth, stillness, or a sense of being held. You might feel nothing at all. Either way, trust that the relationship begins with your intention and your consistency.

🌿 Repeat Often.
This practice becomes more powerful over time. When you return to the same land over and over again with respect, the land begins to recognize you. The guardians begin to recognize you. And the relationship deepens.