Dear, kära, querida, chère Seedling,

You have returned to the magical dust of the universe perhaps part of an ancient wise tree or a droplet in the sea or perhaps floating about in the wind amongst soaring birds or deep in the depths of the Earth’s fiery core. I felt all the elements inside you inside me little one, all the questions of living and dying, of human and non-human existence, of the seemingly endless search for home and the mystery of what is family? What is belonging and safety and care? To be honest I’m still grieving, but for who you might ask as a carefree free seedling who knows the Earth and the cosmos is their home. So I suppose I’m grieving for myself, for the baby that was born not feeling fully wanted, for causing stress and burden to a couple who didn’t have the awareness and support to give me unconditional love, to whisper and sing welcoming poems to bring me to this realm. I forgive them, you help me forgive them by recognizing that all our stories are connected. You helped me realize I can release this pain of not feeling fully desired by those who brought me to life and their own struggles to love and support one another can now find peace. I let go of their fear, their sadness and their anger of not feeling fully wanted, welcomed and cherished themselves. I let go of my fear of never finding home, family and belonging. I trust the Earth is holding you as I trust the Earth is guiding me, welcoming me and cherishing me. This was an abortion with love and I thank the ancestral feminine that has always held this wisdom. And I thank you for being with me and the teachings you offered. 

Love, Emelia

Hello Seedling.

First off, I’m sorry we didn’t let you become anything near your full form. You may not believe this but it is true. And as you’re lashing out at Eme’s body I understand you’re upset. You have all the right to be.

You’ve got the fire of Eme within you already. In a way it’s beautiful to see. Even if it hurts both physically and spiritually. Just know that we love you. And when the time comes we want to give you all the love and support and security that we possibly could. We were afraid that we were not in a stable enough place yet. Spread out over different cities, trying to find at least an anchor of stability to drift around in our ways through the world. That you might suffer. There will of course always be suffering. It is inevitable. But more than that you would deserve. Maybe. We can never know. But we love you. The tiny amount of time we had, you already taught us many new lessons. About life, our bodies, our plans and dreams. And one day we can only hope to pass that on. To you. In the next form. When we’re all ready. Or we’ll be. And just as the wind blows on outside our window, we know you’ll keep on going on your plane of existence.

Until we finally meet.

Olle