Call it animism, land-prayer, weird earth shit if you want. I’m done pretending it’s a cute, outdated way of life.

It’s a political stand: choosing loyalty to the beings we owe our lives to—soil, water, wind, roots—over the fever dream of endless growth.

Even the most hardcore capitalist eventually has to face it: every “strong economy” hangs on a stable climate, diverse communities, three inches of living topsoil, and a hidden web of mycelium quietly keeping everything alive.

Your house, your phone, your clothes, your dinner, your kids’ future—every single thing is Earth, temporarily rearranged. Nothing “comes from nowhere.”

This isn’t about “giving back” like some kind of charity project. It’s about living as a walking, breathing fuc*ing prayer, in right relationship with the ground that keeps saying yes to us, long after we stopped saying thank you.

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