What is Earth Day Even For?
On hope, despair, and the everyday renewal of ecosexuality
When I began researching my book Eco-Sex: Go Green Between the Sheets and Make Your Love Life Sustainable (Random House) in 2009, we lived in a different kind of before-world. Not just the before of fascism and MAGA, or the before of Covid, or the before of a dark money-fueled shadowy Christian theocracy-in-waiting stealing our fundamental constitutional rights to bodily autonomy — but the before of believing we still had time to save the planet.
Fighting and winning the war against climate change still seemed possible then. What an adorable, young, naive writer I was. A cheeky, fun, sexy look at ways to combat environmental degradation, from courtship to consummation as I wrote in my book, felt totally of the moment — even meaningful. I did go on to become part of a sustainability movement that has genuinely improved the way we interact with sex toys, lube, and other products we put in and on our bodies — which was part of my purpose.
But I wouldn’t write the same book today, not just because I have changed and grown and know more, but because we’ve already crossed the rubicon on climate change. Ecosexuality, as a concept and a practice, has evolved for me over the last decade. But this truth: that we cannot do much as individuals to roll back all the warming of the oceans — it’s not meant to cause you, dear reader, to plummet into despair. I just believe that you have to look at facts in the face if you're going to live your life well and usefully, even as things fall apart.
Catastrophic earth changes are already happening in our own country and continent (the way fire season is year-round and 1000-year-floods happen several times a year) and we’ve witnessed ongoing devastating, deadly drought and heatwaves in Asia. It’s happening, and it’s happening faster than we thought it would. Right before our eyes.
It was one thing to think about climate change during the aughts, to read sobering statistics, to watch documentaries, to follow other activists, to go on to read books like the seminal This Changes Everything by Naomi Klein (published in 2014), to march, and march again, to Occupy Wall Street, to speak on panels and urgently talk about how people needed to change NOW to preserve our future. It is another thing entirely to watch your own personal climate changing and go full throttle into climate grief, witnessing the extinction of summer fireflies, the dwindling bees, feeling the heat of 70-degree days in December in New York City or knowing that flash floods could put your parents under water in South Florida at any moment.
People still say “Happy Earth Day!” and “Love your Mother!” and clean up litter in parks and drive home to houses heated and cooled by fossil fuels, and bank at banks that refuse to divest from Big Oil. Because capitalism has not been shaken loose from its rafters, and it is, in fact, responsible for the way all the before of the first paragraph of this post turned into their disastrous afters.
But this post is not a register a complaint, stoke distress, or join the chorus of giver-uppers. I want you to understand that in no way have I given up my fight, because mitigation for future generations of humans and animals is something to fight for. We can still keep it the ground. We can still prevent the oceans from filling with more plastic. We can still fix our electric grid; we can curb agricultural runoff; we can pass the Green New Deal. We can and we must.
So how do I sustain myself even though I know the truth? I fall in love with the earth in my immediate environment (New York City) every day, over and over again, in new ways. I open the window in the morning and let my skin be caressed by her sweet breezes. I lean all the way into every kind of sensual, earth-derived simple pleasure I can fit into a day. Just this morning, letting my gaze linger on tree branches as they begin to bud, feeling the sun on my face, eyes closed, basking in the sensation, soon taking off my shoes in the park the second it’s warm enough to let them sink into the grass, saying yes to any opportunity to hike or go to the beach, all of this and more. Lingering, grazing on it, luxuriating in what’s left here for us.
I use this as a kind of self-guided sensate therapy, a somatic daily practice that grounds and restores me better than any medicine could. And yes, you can choose to let that sensation travel through your body and become erotic if you want to or feel ready for that. Partnered or single, alone or with company, nature is always here for us. I believe that the Japanese art of earthing, gratuitously sniffing a lilac bush, or pushing your hands deep into soil is something earth wants from us. Consent is inherent if you are protecting her, not degrading her. In this piece I wrote for Earth Day in 2021, I share more meditations and practices from my ecosexuality treasure trove. Here’s an excerpt:
This ritual can help you reconnect directly to your own earth-generated erotic longings. If you can go to a beloved place you’ve missed due to solastalgia or just the pandemic, even better. Is there a river, lake, or beach nearby? Do you live close to a hiking trail or forestland? If not, you can do this by a window inside your home, in your yard if you have one, on your rooftop if you live in a city and have access, or in a park. For sexual wellness, I suggest doing it alone the first time, but it’s a fun ritual to do with a partner, too!
Begin by closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Inhale through your nose. Exhale. Repeat three times. Now you’re ready to begin your Ecosex Sense Journey.
SCENT: Tune into your sense of smell. What scent is in your nostrils? If you’re on the ground, laying in grass, soil, or sand, drink in the scent of the earth. Does it smell of a dewy morning or has the sun already dried the warm wetness of the night off of the nearby plant life? If you’re near a body of water, can you smell salt or moss, even rotting moss? Are there flowers blooming anywhere nearby? Sit with the scent(s) for a few moments, letting them linger and remind you of something from your past, as smells often do.
TOUCH: Now tune into your sense of touch: what is touching your skin? If you’re lying on the ground, experience the sensation of the earth touching you. Does it feel hot or cool? Moist or dry? Soft or hard? If you can take some soil, gravel, or sand in your hands, do so. Let it sit in your palms for a moment, and connect to the way that feels—does it feel different to hold the earth than to be held by it? Let it pour out through your fingers.
If you’re immersed in water, even just with your feet, feel into the quality of the water: is it still or moving? Warm or cool? Slimy or bracing?
SOUND: Keeping your eyes closed, tune into the sounds around you. Is there wind? Does it echo? Is it a soft breeze that gathers in the distance and gently comes closer? Are you hearing the wind rustle through the trees and other plants? Are there bird songs or sounds? Dogs barking? City sounds? Take in all the sounds one by one, and then allow them to become a symphony of sound, so that you can no longer hear them distinctly. Then tease them apart again, hearing each sound’s origin as you first heard it.
SIGHT: Now, open your eyes. With all your senses on overload, take in the visual delights all around you. If you’re still lying down and looking up, are clouds dancing in shifting colors and shapes? Are they slowly moving across the sky? Is the sun so bright you must squint? Is it above you, to your right or left? Setting or rising? If it’s night, take in the moon, if it’s waxed enough to see. What color is it right now? Are there visible stars?
If you’re in or near a body of water, drink it in with your eyes. What color is the water? Dark, murky, clear, bright blue, grey, or green? Is it moving or still? Where does the edge of the water meet the sky?
You’ve connected to each of your senses except taste, as I don’t want you to lick anything outdoors (we’ll reserve taste for another exercise). Now close your eyes again. Move through each step, with calm purpose, but this time, after you’ve connected to the Earth, bring that energetic charge down to your genitals.
For example, during the scent step, after you inhale the smell of the bark of a tree, fill your lungs with that breath and then breathe down to your pelvic region. If it’s hard to do with your breath, you can visualize a color traveling from your nostrils, through the front of your body until it reaches the second chakra area. I like to use orange when working with this chakra. Let the breath or color linger there, and then allow it to dissipate. You can do this with each sense, in any order, or just choose one according to your mood and circumstances.
When you’re finished, you might feel totally blissed out with endorphins surging or even kind of post-orgasmic. But in the same way you might feel after a deep release, you may also feel a bit vulnerable. Close the container of this exercise by thanking the Earth for so generously sharing her erotic resources with you and contributing to your sexual wellness.
Note: if you really want to do this exercise but can’t go outside for whatever reason: weather, illness, lockdown—you can bring the Earth inside to you. I tell clients to gather soil, sand, or gravel from their favorite places in the warmer months so that they can continue to do these rituals inside all winter. A large, sturdy shoebox is a great place to store sand or soil, and if it’s big enough for you to stand inside of, even better. If that’s not possible, you can recreate some of these steps near an open window, or with plants that you keep in your home.
Or you could use something like salt to represent the earth and water from your tap, then tell your phone to play nature sounds. You can specify: “babbling brook,” or “rain,” or “ocean,” or “birdsong.” Lie on your floor with these sounds playing and place the fingers of one hand in the bowl of salt, and the fingers of the other hand in the bowl of water. Then go through the exercise above, knowing you’re plugging into the earth, even if you can’t be physically out in nature right now.
Part of the promise of Pleasure Centers was to offer pleasure as praxis, and this is precisely what I meant. I’ve felt compelled to share mostly astrology posts in the last few months, as there has been a lot to share (and there will be more). But this is my offering for Taurus Season, and for the rest of our lives on the only planet we have.
Happy Earth Day — I really mean it.