Do you know it, the call from ancient times?

Some among us know it.

For some people carry within them a memory that doesn’t come from this life. A longing that isn’t easily explained. Neither with logic nor with reason.

It’s as if they had once lived, thousands of years ago, in a time when humans didn’t yet fly through the skies with machines, but felt the breath of the earth with bare feet.

The world was different back then. No noise, no electric whirring in the air. Only the wind in the trees, the crackling of wood in the fire, and the distant cry of wolves in the night.

People lived in the cycle of the seasons, not to the beat of clocks.
Spring brought hope, and with it the tender green, the first buds, and young life. The children ran barefoot across the damp meadows, laughing while their mothers sowed seeds and blessed the soil with songs.

In summer, the fruits ripened, and the village was filled with the scent of herbs, laughter, and stories around the fire. In autumn, harvests were held, thanks were given, and celebrations were made.
And whenever winter came, life fell silent. People huddled together.
And they knew that warmth came not only from the fire, but from the heart.

In those days, every day was a connection to the earth, to the sun, to the rain, to the animals, to other people. They hunted not out of greed, but to live. They asked the spirit of the animal for forgiveness and thanked it for its gift. There was no mine or yours, only ours.
Woman and man stood side by side, not on top of each other. Children were not a burden, but the greatest gift. And over all watched the Great Mother, the earth herself, nurturing, protecting, and comforting.

Anyone who walks the streets today, lives between screens, and hears words that lack depth, can feel an emptiness that isn’t easily identifiable. A pulling in the chest. A silence, even when everything is so loud. I think it’s the longing for that time.

You feel like a stranger in this time. Not because there’s something wrong with you. But because you remember. Of a time you can’t grasp with your mind, but only with your soul. Of friendship that didn’t wait for messages, but for the shared silence while gathering wood. Of love that wasn’t based on profile pictures, but on glances, on shared actions, and on sharing life. Of a family that wasn’t created by blood alone, but by heart and responsibility.

I know what I’m saying now is such a painful thought, because your heart hasn’t forgotten.

But maybe, just maybe, you weren’t born too late, but are here right now to remind not only yourself, but others, that we are still part of a whole. Not separate. That we are nature. Not above it. That we may return home again, perhaps not to a distant time, but to a near feeling.

©Surturs Lohe