This idea, that we are all connected, are all “one,” has been promulgated through certain organized religion factions for a long, long time. Carl G. Jung, the famous psychiatrist and spiritualist dubbed this phenomenon as the “collective unconscious” and proclaimed that we are all part of each other and of everything else for that matter.
And in the last 20 years or so quantum physics has proven this theory — thought creates matter and can even alter the DNA in another being in a remote place.
Ever heard of the “100th Monkey Syndrome?” It was an experiment where all the monkeys on one island learned to do a particular task a new way (I can’t remember what it was exactly — something like peeling a banana differently). These monkeys were being monitored, as were other members of their species half way around the world. About the time the 100th monkey learned to peel the banana in that special way, voila! All the monkeys in the group on the other side of the world knew how to do it, all at once, all of a sudden! That’s how it works, this “oneness.”
So. I had been familiar with the principle for ages but really had no personal feeling for it. I took it on faith, just because it felt so right to me. Until . . .
I was in training for animal communication and attending a workshop where we communicated with not only wild animals, but the plant kingdom as well. (Boy did this blow my head off!! But that’s another story.) One day, in fulfilling a “plant” assignment, I chose to try to talk to a field of grass of about, say, 20 acres.
My world was turned upside down at that moment, in a wonderful way.
When I tuned into the grass and sent a greeting, I was welcomed with a reverberating “Hellooooo . . . helloooo . . . helloooo . . . ” ad infinitum, as the greeting echoed wave-like from the front of the field to the back. There was also much tittering and giggling — very happy, euphoric energy! And every “word” or “sound” I received from this grass was echoed millions of times as each blade was feeling and emitting the same message. They were definitely all one!
I cannot convey the way this felt. It was one of the greatest “aha” moments of my life. The understanding it brought me in terms of how we affect our world was the greatest such lesson in my life. I was grateful then and forever will be.
Beyond this understanding, here are a few of the things the grass told me that day, and I quote from my years and years-old notes:
“We are here to feed the animals and provide homes for the ants and insects. . . . to solidify, maintain, conserve, and stabilize.”
“We are their footing, their resting place. We enjoy it. . . . There is an innate understanding between us.”
“We hold on so tight. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
(As to what the grass needs from us): “An understanding and implementation of the natural balance.”
(As to how the grass experiences love): “Caressing. Wind, moon, each other.”
Thank you, grass! I’ve never been the same.