By Bra Peter wa Ptouch
There was a time when life arrived on its own clock.
The rains came when they were ready, babies came when the womb released, and plants stretched when the soil was warm enough to listen.
Today we schedule everything — even birth.
Hospitals set dates, doctors set times, and machines tell us when the miracle should begin.
We call it progress, but sometimes I wonder if it is not fear disguised as efficiency.
⚙️ Control
Control is the modern religion.
It promises safety, predictability, and clean outcomes.
We farm under plastic, birth under lights, and live under deadlines.
We induce labour the same way we induce rain: by force and by plan.
And when life refuses to obey our calendar, we call it a complication.
Control isn’t evil — it has saved lives — but it always demands a price.
The price is trust.
When we over-manage the natural process, we forget that life knows how to birth itself.
The body remembers; the seed remembers; even the earth remembers.
But we silence that memory with machines and management.
🌿 Trust
Trust is the older language.
It speaks softly through contractions, tides, and seasons.
It says, “wait,” or “now,” without shouting.
The woman who births naturally is not brave because she resists medicine; she is brave because she surrenders to life’s timing.
The farmer who plants by intuition listens to the same pulse.
Trust is messy. It leaks water and tears. It doesn’t follow policy.
But it always aligns with truth.
The moon still pulls the ocean whether we acknowledge it or not.
Maybe that’s why we cry at the new moon — our inner tides remembering what it means to let go.
☀️ Birth Beyond the Womb
Birth is bigger than babies.
Every project, idea, or consciousness must also be born.
Some people schedule their creativity; others allow it to surprise them.
Both can work — but only one keeps the soul alive.
To trust life is not to reject knowledge. It is to hold knowledge lightly.
To control life is not to reject nature. It is to walk the edge carefully, knowing when to intervene and when to bow.
The question each generation must answer is simple:
Do we still trust life, or have we only learned to manage it?
🌞 Closing
In the greenhouse, the feral cat gives birth without invitation.
No doctor, no schedule, no applause — just the rhythm of nature doing what it knows.
I watch from a distance and learn again that awareness is enough.
Maybe one day humanity will remember that lesson:
that the highest form of intelligence is not control,
but cooperation with the flow that births us all.
We give thanks. Dankie Sun.
