Of Man and Earth

During the Corona lockdowns in 2020, I found myself, like many others, dabbling in a small garden. It was nothing much - just a few pots and some seeds on the small patio outside of my apartment. The street just past the bushes surrounding our corner apartment smelled like exhaust and looked like any other ugly, gray suburban street in a middle-class neighborhood: small restaurants and stores in an old strip mall, a gas station across the street, and covert drug deals and drugged out homeless people wallowing behind dumpsters.

Suffice it to say, this was no Garden of Eden. Nevertheless, a happenstance gathering of lemons from someone’s cuttings led me to the bright idea to plant some lemon seeds. I threw some seeds in a pot in my kitchen, promptly forgot about it, and moved on with my life. I didn’t water it, I didn’t think about it, I just let it sit.

But despite the serene, blank exterior of the soil, something was happening beneath the surface. Life was beginning to form. One day, a flash of green caught my eye. I looked, and lo and behold - life!

The joy I felt at those first signs of life were indescribable. It was truly a miracle to witness. I began to deeply appreciate how God created the world and I wanted to see more of this beautiful world He created.

I hadn’t really done much planting before – perhaps, many years prior, I had purchased a few basil plants from the store, which promptly died under my care – but the sheer exuberance of watching seeds develop into plants (and in some cases, fruit or vegetables) was mind-boggling. I had no idea that growing plants could be so gratifying.

Before I knew it, my haphazard lemon seed planting had morphed into a whole colony of plants in and around my apartment. I began connecting with the local gardeners and getting free plants and excess produce – like the tomato plant that grew as tall as my husband David, but only yielded 3 small tomatoes, or the bags of lemons I would collect off porches, or the various succulents that I had learned to adore. I replanted seeds and cuttings from the fruits and vegetables we were buying in the store. I was constantly sweeping soil off the floors because I was running from outside to inside and back again: tending my little garden, hands covered in soil, feverishly looking up how to defeat aphids and reading about what other store-bought produce – besides romaine and green onions – I could regenerate. 

My happiest memories from that difficult, isolated time period revolve around the joy of watching things grow and flourish, despite all my bumbling and mistakes. I was a total novice, but the plants didn’t care. Of course, there were some losses. The tomato plant that grew as tall as David became infested with aphids and my attempts to fight them failed. The lavender from which I made tea grew fussy and never really became happy again. The pothos my neighbor had given me sometimes suffered and yellowed under my care because I frequently forgot to water it.

Nevertheless, the profound delight in connecting to the earth and to being witness to God’s miracles - even in these seemingly small ways - was deeply healing. It was this experience during the Corona lockdowns that I began to understand I was on a quest to reconnect to the Earth and the One who made it. 

My education on gardening became a deeper search into the beauty and delight of working the soil, of seeing the literal fruits of one’s labor. David and I began to crave land and dream about having our own small piece to work with. 

Some time later, we were watching a YouTube video - the name of which escapes me - of a woman who had left her urban life to start a homestead. She asked the viewer to think about the words, “traffic,” “office,” “city.” What feelings did those words evoke? she asked. Then she came to the words, “pasture,” “land,” “trees.” What feelings did those words evoke?

I think, for most, the answer is very obvious. One need not think twice about which sounds relaxing and enticing, and which sounds harried and stressed.

It is becoming increasingly clear in the scientific world that living a life connected to the earth is one that is happier and more fulfilling. In fact, there is even at least one (and probably more) microorganism in the soil which triggers serotonin production in the brain - Mycobacterium vaccae.

As usual, science is finally catching up to what the Torah has been saying all along: that we must live in harmony with God and His Earth, and all His creations. To do otherwise is at our own peril.  

The Torah is abundantly clear on this point: we were formed by God, infused with His essence, made from the soil of the newborn Earth. Thus, we are intrinsically connected to Him and to the Earth from which He made us. 

If our very being, our makeup as humans, is bound to the soil and to the One who created all - then working and cultivating the soil is not simply the occupation of the few; it is self-discovery and self-cultivation, the conduit through which we refine our intrinsic connection to our Creator.

Is this not the purpose of man?

God’s Creations… and Man

It is said that the book of Beresheet (Genesis) is the universal book, the book that applies to all of mankind, whereas the rest of the Bible - the other four books of the Torah, and the Naviim (Prophets) and Ketuvim (Writings) - is specifically to teach the Jewish people how to fulfill their role in the world.

Beresheet is truly the blueprint of man and Earth. It is the ultimate guide for a humanity that is lost in the darkness of chaos and confusion. It is the best set of instructions for how man must relate to God and live on His Earth, speaking directly to the core of who we are as humans: to our essential natures and our purpose.

Even a cursory reading of the first chapters of Beresheet indicate that our relationship with God and His Earth with all its creations is the basis and essence of our existence.

The foundation of the world rests upon the timeless opening lines of Beresheet (Genesis):

In the beginning of God's creation of the heavens and the earth…

Beresheet 1:1

Beresheet begins by describing the unimaginable beauty of the newborn world God created - beginning with light, followed by the separation between the water and the sky; the creation of dry land, vegetation, the sun, moon, and stars; sea creatures and sky creatures, land creatures... 

And God said, “Let the waters swarm a swarming of living creatures (נפש חיה), and let fowl fly over the earth, across the expanse of the heavens.”

Beresheet 1:20

And God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures (נפש חיה) according to their kind, cattle and creeping things and the beasts of the earth according to their kind,” and it was so. 

Beresheet 1:24

And finally, He created Adam - man.

And God said, "Let us make man (אדם) in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the heaven and over the animals and over all the earth and over all the creeping things that creep upon the earth." And God created man in His image; in the image of God (בצלם אלקים) He created him; male and female He created them.

Beresheet 1:26-27

One thing that is lost in translation is that the word “man/human” in Hebrew - אדם (Adam) - shares the same root as the word אדמה (adamah) - soil, earth, ground. Adam comes from the adamah; humans come from the humus. This is key to understanding the essence of man.

Man was markedly different than God’s other creations; he was made in His image. This idea is repeated three times within these two verses (26 & 27).

Furthermore, as if it wasn’t clear enough that we were made differently, it is written in the following chapter:

And Hashem, God formed man from dust, from the earth, and He blew into his nose the breath of life (נשמת חיים), and the human became a living being (נפש חיה).

Beresheet 2:7

All creatures, including man, were endowed with a נפש חיה (nefesh chaya), a type of soul that provides the spark of life and vitality.

Then God gave us something extra: a special, unique kind of soul, a נשמת חיים (nishmat chayim).

Man was a special project. This soul that He breathed into us distinguishes us from the animals. By breathing into us, He took something of His own essence, the spirit that comes from deep within Him. God’s own breath was infused into the very makeup of our being.

According to Ramban on Beresheet 2:7:

…This alludes to the superiority of the soul, its foundation and secret, since it mentions in connection with it the full Divine Name…And the verse says that He breathed into his [Adam's] nostrils the breath of life in order to inform us that the soul did not come to man from the elements, as He intimated concerning the soul of moving things…Rather, it was the spirit of the Great G-d: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and discernment. For he who breathes into the nostrils of another person gives into him something from his own soul.

God made animals as the rudimentary living beings that first swarmed the earth. But God had a special purpose for man, a higher calling and role. If we were meant to be like all the other creatures, if we were no more than animals, we would not have been endowed with His essence. This purpose is deeply tied to the multi-layered duality of our nature.

The Dual Nature of Man

Adam was created from Adamah, with both a nefesh chaya and nishmat chaim. In and of itself, this represents the duality of our nature. This duality becomes even more apparent when re-examining the text: 

And Hashem, God formed man (אדם) from dust (עפר), from the earth (אדמה), and He blew into his nose the breath of life (נשמת חיים), and the human became a living being (נפש חיה).

Beresheet 2:7

God created Adam from adamah. Adamah, soil, or earth, suggests a rich ecosystem of life, a place in which plants and trees may grow. 

But there is another component mentioned here: עפר (afar) – dust. Adam was formed from dust from the adamah. Dust is dry, uncultivated, lifeless – there is no growth or life from dust. This dust is the very basic, elemental foundation of our physical being.

As described previously, the nishmat chaim is what places us above a mere nefesh chaya. The nefesh chaya is the life-force within us, exactly the same life force that gives vitality to the animals. This is the basic, physical aspect of the life force. So in this context, what roles do the adamah and afar play?

Man is both a physical and a spiritual being. We know this experientially, but the Torah is pointing to the secret of our duality: the nefesh chaya and the dust (the physical) versus the nishmat chaim and the earth (the spiritual).

Together, the nefesh chaya and the dust make up the very basic physical makeup and primal instincts of a human. The cells and organs and blood which run through our veins. The biological, neurological, and physiological actions within those cells and organs. 

This base human is the one the modern world claims we are. Many claim that we are nothing more than animals, that our desires, our hopes, our dreams, even possibly our belief in God, can be boiled down to nothing more than biological, neurological, and physiological aspects of our being that can be turned off, changed, or manipulated at will.

On the other hand, we were given a nishmat chaim and we are made of earth. God’s own breath gave us a unique soul. The spirit of God Himself is the very essence of this lofty soul; His essence animates our nishmat chaim, while we are made of earth, or soil, which is a rich, living soil, full of various microorganisms, all with the ability to feed and sustain life. This is in stark contrast to the lifeless, useless dust. The soil has potential for something greater; the dust does not.

We are intrinsically connected to the earth because we are quite literally made from it. And we are intrinsically connected to God because He breathed His essence into us, because He made us in His image.

Yet it is our job to realize this intrinsic connection, to cultivate the nefesh chaya, the basic, fundamental life force, and the lifeless, uncultivated dust, so we can be transformed into the lofty human we were meant to become: the human with a nishmat chaim, the spirit of God, made of adamah – the living, vibrant soil that sustains life and growth.

Man has the potential to be nothing more than dust with a life force - or to enliven and uplift this fundamental makeup by embracing the live soil and the living, Godly soul.

It is our daily battle to transform ourselves from this purely physical creature, a mere animal made of dust, into a man made in God’s image. It is this battle of the soul with which God tests us in our daily lives. Are we dust or are we earth? Are we physical or are we spiritual? We are both. But it is our role in this world to cultivate the mere dust, to cultivate the nefesh chaya. We must give spirit and life to the dust – to the physical – as our Designer intended.

We were given such a unique makeup, so distinct from the other creations, because we were made with a particularly unique mission. It is only through living up to that purpose, fulfilling that Divinely given mission, that we may live in harmony with God and all His creations, and bring harmony between the physical and the spiritual.  

And it is man’s Divinely given mission – God’s job description for man – that stands as the focal point of Beresheet.

Man’s Mission on Earth

I often wonder what will be written about us in history books. What will future generations say about the dawn of the 21st century? Will they look at us with reverence and awe, lauding the innovative pioneers who marched humanity forward on the path to a brave new world?

Or will this be viewed as a dark period in history, one where humanity strayed far from the path?

I’ve observed that a collective sense of nihilism has gripped modern, so-called “civilized” society for many years. Yet it is this very nihilism that has had an intriguing, positive effect: it has sparked a movement to return to the fundamentals and ask questions. What is a man? What is a woman? What are their unique roles? What is man’s purpose?

The unhinged have taken these questions out of the realm of reality – insisting there is no difference between a man or a woman – but they do not realize they are merely a symptom of a broader nihilism and Godlessness. 

Meanwhile, there are many who strive to return to their roots, both physically and spiritually, and embrace the authentic truth. All of the current social movements are huge indicators that humanity is probing deeply into the very fundamentals of Beresheet.

Previous generations were defined by different movements and desires. Is it this drive for authentic truth that will be the defining feature of our generation?

"In other centuries, human beings wanted to be saved, or improved, or freed, or educated. But in our century, they want to be entertained. The great fear is not of disease or death, but of boredom. A sense of time on our hands, a sense of nothing to do. A sense that we are not amused.

Today, everybody expects to be entertained, and they expect to be entertained all the time… everyone must be amused, or they will switch: switch brands, switch channels, switch parties, switch loyalties.

But where will this mania for entertainment end? … Sooner or later, the artifice becomes too noticeable. They begin to realize that an amusement park is really a kind of jail, in which you pay to be an inmate.

This artifice will drive them to seek authenticity. Authenticity will be the buzzword of the twenty‑first century. And what is authentic? Anything that is not devised and structured to make a profit. Anything that is not controlled by corporations. Anything that exists for its own sake and assumes its own shape. But of course, nothing in the modern world is allowed to assume its own shape. The modern world is the corporate equivalent of a formal garden, where everything is planted and arranged for effect. Where nothing is untouched, where nothing is authentic.

Except the past. The past is unarguably authentic. The past is a world that corporate interests cannot tamper with."

Timeline, by Michael Crichton

It seems that in his work of fiction, Michael Crichton made a fascinating prediction: that the 21st century will be defined by the search for authenticity. Indeed, people increasingly seek authenticity and truth in a world that has bowed its head to industrialization, modernization, and uniformity – all in the name of efficiency and globalization.

Indeed, as Crichton pointed out, the modern world is the "corporate equivalent of a formal garden...where nothing is authentic," leading people to crave the ancient traditions and authenticity of generations past, an authenticity that is found less and less in the so-called "developed" world.

And one of the ways this drive for authenticity manifests is in the movement to return to the land.

"I think people’s desire to grow food or raise animals runs deep, tapping our need for a sense of purpose, for personal agency, and for the satisfaction of physical work," an article on Real Simple says in reference to the homesteading movement. 

A recent article on The Guardian which featured a particular family who had chosen this new life, while derisive in its tone, nevertheless noted that the subject of its inquiry, Mike Thomas, felt “an almost spiritual connection to the land and to nature itself” when he began his homesteading life. 

The journalist covering the story wrote, “Before my visit to the farm, I had spent weeks reading about families like theirs: men and women leaving cities behind to live as modern-day yeoman farmers.” She had discovered that “many of the trads were converts who had chosen their lifestyles as adults, sometimes after years of spiritual seeking.” 

People are increasingly embracing living off the land, as The Washington Post reports in a November 2024 article which explores the growing popularity of homesteading in its various forms, from growing food on an apartment balcony to purchasing swaths of land upon which to plant crops and raise animals. And a 2022 Homesteaders of America survey noted that 40% of homesteaders began their lifestyle within the years 2019-2022, indicating that this was indeed a burgeoning movement. 

Generally, there appears to be a collective craving to return to a lifestyle that is rooted in original, authentic living. The sourdough craze, the trad wife movement, and the renewed pursuit of so-called “analog” activities (in other words, normal human activities) all represent symptoms of a deeper seeking. A search for meaning, a search for truth.

People want to know how real people lived in the past. A whole system is buried; traditions that were passed down from generation to generation were wiped out quickly with the rise of industrialization, modernization, and the broken system we insist on calling “education.” Wisdom and practices that had been preserved within families and communities for generations have been lost. Mankind is adrift without these roots.

Progress is valuable, innovation is important; but when the roots are ripped out and discarded as useless weeds, progress is merely a tower of cards, liable to fall at any moment. Progress, in pretending to be something new and divorcing itself from what was, is not progress.

A tree cannot stand without roots. And people cannot continue forward without returning to their roots, and returning to the fundamental truths of Beresheet, which God gave as a guide for all of humanity. Beresheet explores the authentic roots of man, and clarifies man’s mission on Earth.

Man, as described above, is a physical and spiritual being at heart. It follows that his purpose has both these components as well; and in fact, the beauty of Beresheet is that it demonstrates this truth within the text itself.

When God created the animals, He gave them a task: to be fruitful and multiply. 

And God blessed them, saying, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the waters of the seas, and let the fowl multiply upon the earth."

Beresheet 1:22

When God created man, he, too, was commanded to be fruitful and multiply. But he was given additional responsibilities: to rule over the other creations, to work the soil, and to guard (or keep) it.

And God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over (וְיִרְדּוּ֩) the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the heaven and over the animals and over all the earth and over all the creeping things that creep upon the earth." 

Beresheet 1:26

Now no tree of the field was yet on the earth, neither did any herb of the field yet grow, because the Lord God had not brought rain upon the earth, and there was no man to work the soil (לעבד את האדמה).

Beresheet 2:5

Now the Lord God took the man, and He placed him in the Garden of Eden to work it (לעבדה) and to guard/keep it (לשמרה). 

Beresheet 2:15

Man was made from the soil outside of the Garden of Eden, then placed in the Garden to “work” and “guard” it. This was the original job description of man, the blueprint for man’s role in the world.

“Working” may suggest an active process of cultivation and labor in the soil; for example, Chizkuni notes that the “work” was to irrigate it.

According to Chizkuni, there are two different interpretations of what it means “to guard/to keep:” one idea is that Man must protect the Garden of Eden from animals who may trample it. Another idea is that this was an indicator of God’s command to Man to keep the Sabbath: “Keep (שמור) the Sabbath day,” (Deuteronomy 5:12). 

We learn here that the fundamental physical role of human beings, the purpose of God’s creation of man, was, from the very beginning of creation, to be a steward of His creations.

Being a steward of His creations means taking care of God’s creations and working the land. Working the land means cultivating it. Growing herbs and trees. Reaping the fruits of his labor. Protecting the animals and leveraging them for labor and later, for food – but never exploiting or abusing them.

I believe God created this dynamic because it is only through working with our physical roots – the earth from which we originated – that we can cleave to our spiritual roots: the essence of God, the nishmat chaim He breathed into us at the beginning of our creation.

And within this idea of working and guarding the Garden of Eden lies a deeper spiritual analogy: it is not only the Garden of Eden we must work and guard, it is our very nature.

Sforno comments to this effect: 

“to work it,” [is] a reference to perfecting his own personality, that which was supplied by G-d in an as yet unrefined state.

We were blessed by God to elevate and transform ourselves and the world around us by embracing this physical and spiritual mission.

The physical aspect of our role in the world is to work and guard the land; the spiritual aspect is that we must work on and guard ourselves. Working and guarding the land and ourselves is integral to our relationship with God and His creations, because it is for this that we were made, and it is through this that we can connect to our Creator.

It is only through working the land that man has the potential to fully realize the fundamental relationship between us and God, and recognize His mastery over the Earth.

When I see Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and stars that You have established, what is man that You should remember him, and the son of man that You should be mindful of him?

Yet You have made him slightly less than the angels, and You have crowned him with glory and majesty.

You give him dominion over the work of Your hands; You have placed everything beneath his feet.

Flocks and cattle, all of them, and also the beasts of the field; the birds of the sky and the fish of the sea, he traverses the ways of the seas.

O Lord, our Master, how mighty is Your name in all the earth!

Tehillim 8:4-10

When we witness the wondrous deeds of God – in the beauty and complexity of a seed's development into a tree, or in the vastness of the heavens – and we grasp the incredible fact that God made us partner to His creation, we develop an awe of God that serves as the basis for fundamental recognition of God's mastery. And it is through this fundamental recognition of God's mastery that we can live up to His calling, His mission for us.

After the statement that “God placed him [man] to work it and to guard it” (Beresheet 2:15), we are told:

And the Lord God commanded man, saying, "Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat. But of the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat of it, for on the day that you eat thereof, you shall surely die."

Beresheet 2:16-17

And yet the man didn’t listen to that one simple rule.

To Adam [God] said, “Because you did as your wife said and ate of the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it,’ Cursed be the ground (אדמה) because of you; By hard labor (בעצבון) shall you eat of it all the days of your life. And it will cause thorns and thistles to grow for you, and you shall eat the herbs of the field. By the sweat of your brow shall you get bread to eat, until you return to the ground (אדמה) — for from it you were taken. For dust (עפר) you are, and to dust (עפר) you shall return.” 

Beresheet 3:17-19

The first curse in the Torah was making man’s fundamental physical mission and role on earth more difficult. Working the land was his original role and purpose, and now he would have to struggle by the sweat of his brow to reap the rewards of his toil. The first Man and Woman, by breaking God’s order, had dramatically altered the dynamic of their relationship with God and His Earth. They were once again addressed as mere “dust.”

Any time we make a break with the order that God made, there’s a derailment; the dynamic of the world shifts even more away from God, our very beings become more detached and disconnected from our Creator.

We were given the reins by God Himself – but our mastery over the earth must be within His rules. Man was designed “in an awesome, wondrous way” (Tehillim 139:14) to transform the mere dust into earth, to elevate the nefesh chaya to a nishmat chaim – to bring harmony to the physical and the spiritual aspects of God's creation. When we embrace this mission, we are able to cultivate the uncultivated, and be a true partner to God as master over His creations. When we do otherwise, it is a violation of our relationship with Him and a disruption of His order.

If we choose to violate our God-given role with its responsibilities and rules, we run the risk of destroying our relationship with God and His creations. We run the risk of creating dust in the place of soil, in the place of living, vibrant earth.

What we see reflected in the earth around us is a mirror of our own selves: that we ourselves are becoming lifeless dust in our quest to reject our innate natures and our mission as humans.

Even when the first man and first woman violated God’s order by eating from the Tree of Knowledge, even when man was cursed to work the land “by the sweat of [his] brow,” the job description nevertheless stayed the same: to work the soil.

And the Lord God sent him out of the Garden of Eden, to work the soil (לעבד את האדמה) whence he had been taken. 

Beresheet 3:23

Despite the break in God’s order, man was returned to the original soil from which he was formed, and reminded once again to work it. 

Perhaps, despite man’s fall from grace, God knew it was the only way man could truly return to his original, Divine mission.

Perhaps He knew it was the only way we could return to our roots.

Returning to Our Roots

When I planted those lemon seeds in 2020, my gateway to gardening, I made a few observations which I recorded in my journal:

I think of the images I’ve seen in my sleep: the grape vine, towering tall as a tree, bent over, and taking the first fruits in my hands. The grapes were small, unready, unripe. Green. Symbolic of my life, maybe?

And yet I still plant my seeds. I watch them grow – into nine lemon seedlings, apparently. Some a few inches tall, some lagging behind. I give them time, wondering which to keep and which to throw away. Some are strong and grow tall, but others are useless. A metaphor for life, I suppose. We plant so many seeds, hoping for something to arise from them… and some don’t grow at all, some grow and then stop, some grow and continue.

I've been reflecting a lot on their growth. It's easy to look at them every single day and think, "Oh, that's it. They're not growing anymore." And then all of a sudden, a new leaf sprouts. If we stay consistent, we keep watering them, we keep feeding them the proper nutrients, they will grow. 

Same with humans. We have to plant our seeds in life - and some will grow, some won't grow, some will grow slowly. You may not even realize how much you've grown until a new leaf sprouts. I think what we all need to ask ourselves is, am I planting seeds in my life? Am I taking practical steps to feed myself spiritually, mentally? And am I feeding myself on a consistent basis? If the answers are all yes, then we don't need to worry. The growth is happening, even if we can't see it yet, even if we feel like we've been buried. I heard this really beautiful idea months ago, and it stuck with me as I watched these plants grow: God didn't bury me, he planted me.

Observing the miracle of a seed is a profoundly spiritual experience. This seed grows into a small plant, a small plant which grows leaves, a plant which eventually develops into a tree – the tender green shoot growing taller, the soft body developing a tough bark, the leaves proliferating until finally, one day, a blossom appears… and then another, and another…

Those blossoms become fruit.

And those fruit contain within them the potential for many hundreds of trees, future generations of trees which can satisfy future generations of humans.

When we experience God’s earth, the nihilism disappears, and in its place is awe and wonder of God’s world.

How great are Your works, O Lord! You have made them all with wisdom; the earth is full of Your possessions!

Tehillim 104:24

In stark contrast, consider the person who sits most of the day, every single day, staring at his phone or his computer screen, living in an imaginary world of his own creation.

Everything is within his control, everything within his dominion.

The man behind the screen becomes a god in his own eyes. Self-worship – narcissism – becomes the norm in a world that lives its life on the screen.

The domino effect of this is obvious: humans begin to create their own completely imaginary worlds to try to cope with the fact that they are, in fact, empty and aimless.

Humans have disrupted God’s order. There is no harmony between the physical and the spiritual in a world like this. That is why we are faced daily with chaos, emptiness, and hopelessness.

But there is a way out.

A way home.

Back to the earth which has been crying to us for hundreds of years.

Back to God who has been calling to us for millennia.

God called out to the Human and said to him, “Where are you?”

Beresheet 3:9

Return! The trees cry out.

Return! The hills cry out.

The land is calling for us to return to it, to lovingly tend it, to have a relationship with it once again.

When I drive through modern, industrialized farms, all I see are vast expanses of tired, lonely fields. No human hands lovingly tending it. No man working his garden.

We must tend the garden, the garden of the world.

We must return to our true, Divinely-given mission - being stewards of the land, embracing it, living on it, living off it, loving it.

We have become divorced from God and from His Earth, traditional farms replaced with endless mono-cropping, human hands and animals replaced with machinery.

The land is lonely for us, the earth barren and tired.

And we are lonely for it – and we know it. We feel it in our bones. It’s why there is such restlessness, aimlessness, and brokenness in this world.

We are starving for connection, but connection is closer than we realize. We need only look outside, away from the screen, away from all that is manmade.

We can step into our little gardens and gaze upon God’s works: the blue skies above, the trees which rise to touch the heavens but whose roots are planted firmly and deeply within the earth.

Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? Who takes out their host by number? All of them He calls by name; because of His great might and because He is strong in power, no one is missing.

Yeshayau (Isaiah) 40:26

We can listen to the sound of the birds, the birds which carry seeds across the earth and plant new beginnings by happenstance.

A single seed, planted deep within the earth, can become a tree that feeds generations.

Let us plant our seeds.

Let us return to our roots.

Let us turn to the Master of the Universe, our Creator, the One who made us in His image.

And when we feel lost, when the darkness overtakes us, let us turn to God's guiding wisdom in the book of Beresheet, His blueprint of Man and Earth.

But now inquire of the beasts and they will instruct you, and of the fowl of the heavens and they will tell you. Or speak to the earth and it will instruct you, and the fishes of the sea will tell you. Who does not know of all these? For the hand of the Lord has done this, in Whose hand is the soul of all living and the spirit of all human flesh.

Iyov (Job) 12:7-10