The pinecone dropped as I scrambled to catch it.
There I was, standing in desperation. I had gone to the one place I wasn't supposed to go for help--a tree.
During my time as a financial literacy teacher, I discovered an interesting truth. Money hurts. I had worked with people from every spectrum. I worked with homeless people, who were multi-millionaires, and just about everything in between. And although the external circumstances were drastically different, the core feelings of stress, fear, shame, and anxiety were consistent. How could something that was supposed to be a reward for our hard work cause so much suffering?
And as I stood holding the pinecone, the answer came. Money is the root of our disconnection with the Earth because it only works with humans. The phrase money doesn't grow on trees illustrates the point.
As humans, we have an innate understanding of trade. If I get a haircut from someone, I'm expected to pay the person in return. With nature, we don't have the same concept of trade. I can't pay a tree for its services, and bunnies have no use for cash. This disconnection has caused us to take resources from nature without an understanding of giving back.
While holding the pinecone, I realized that money does actually grow on trees because almost everything we buy and sell comes from nature. Whether it's the food we eat, the clothes we wear, or the homes we live in, these goods originally came from the Earth.
I now see trade as a new and more expansive concept. I can't pay a bunny with cash; I can contribute to Earth's wellbeing in many different ways. And in doing so begin to heal my relationship to money, resources, and interconnection with all of life.
Plant Me Home
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
18 x 24 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
As I was drawing this tree outside my apartment, a three-year-old girl came to look at what I was doing. Excited, she ran up the steps to her apartment. A few minutes later, she appeared again—this time with a box of crayons and paper. We sat and drew together while she told me stories. It was our happy place.
Happy Place
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
I danced to the chorus of laughter. Too busy choreographing the next routine to notice the others. There was no group for me and no place to be.
Tripped by the dizziness of eternal lostness, I fell to the dirt. The only place I belonged. That was the day the birds arrived—the day stones were thrown.
The birds had a song—they had something to say. But who would sing it? Who would hear their cry?
The birds circled around the most talented and the most gifted. Hopelessly attracted to shiny objects, the birds gravitated to the girl of the stars. Her voice was angelic and moved as delicately as her perfect ringlets. Everyone loved her. Her parents were world-famous musicians, so she had all the connections. The complete package as they say. The birds flapped in excitement. She’s perfect!
The birds swooped into her bedroom and hid in the dark corners. In the middle of the night, when she was in the deepest layer of sleep, they sang their song.
The tune haunted the girl of the stars. It traveled with her everywhere she went. But the song was weird. It wasn’t like the others. What would people think? No, she refused to sing it!
The birds tried everything to get the girl of the stars to sing, but it was useless. She would never sacrifice her perfection.
So the birds had no choice but to fly on, traveling from one brilliant singer to the next—none willing to sacrifice what they had.
The birds went to the ditch to mourn their loss. No one would sing their song, and their purpose would be wasted.
That was when the birds met the girl of the ditch.
“Ew, what is that?”
“What is she wearing?”
“What is that foul smell?”
The birds gawked and laughed at the girl in the ditch. They threw rocks at her, which knocked her down.
But she didn’t seem to mind. She got right back up. You see, the girl of the ditch was used to being knocked down. To her, it was life.
The birds kept throwing larger and larger stones to defeat her, but back up she came. At first, the birds were frustrated. Then they became curious.
“Could she sing our song?”
“No way. Look at her. She’d be the laughing stock. She’d ruin it.”
“Yeah, but she’d actually do it. She doesn’t seem to mind what others think.”
“True”
“Can she even sing?”
“Well, she could learn. Let’s collect the teachers!”
Stones hurt, but what choice did I have? Stay down? My life had become a light switch. Every time it got turned off, I would get up and flip the switch back on.
Despite the pain, learning was worth it. The more I immersed myself in expanding my knowledge, the less the stones would come. And now the stage was set. Millions of fans waited. Everything was perfect except for the rock under the mic. I picked it up. It was once the training stone the birds used on me. It used to scare me, but now it was merely a pebble. I chuckled as I chucked it up in the air, caught it, and put it in my pocket. There was nothing left to fear. I grabbed the mic, and the song came out ... and the birds were pleased.
Entertaining the Muses
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
How do you climb a cliff?
"Come on. You can do it. Don't give up on yourself."
My face scrunches tight as I feel that impossible burn.
Grunt.
Sometimes the challenges seem too high and the goal too hard to attain, so we give up and resort to pebbles.
But there's a funny thing about pebbles. When I was creating this painting, I ran into a glitch. I knew I needed to draw a cliff, but how?
Climb up to the top, kneel and take pictures?
Search the internet for stock photos?
Make it up?
But what if I don't have climbing gear, prefer to draw from life, and can't visualize the details?
Answer: Find a pebble.
Nature has a funny way of repeating itself in multiple sizes and forms. Branches on a tree, veins in a heart, and lines made from a bolt of lightning all share the same shape. And pebbles, rocks, and cliffs share the same basic texture/color patterns. Zoom in enough on that pebble, and the cliff will appear.
Whether it be a cliff or a pebble, love will be waiting. Because like any muscle, the heart must beat to stay alive. It is in the effort that we live.
Mastery of the Heart
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
Chip, chop, the chopping block failed.
It was supposed to be a wasteland--a black forest made of nothing but ash. It was supposed to be so dark that roots couldn't connect, and worms couldn't crawl.
Everyone was supposed to leave this bleak place, but I chose to stay. I decided to stand amid fear, warning signs, and the dust storm brewing in the distance.
There was no life in the sky or the ground. Birds were not around. Still, I chose to stay.
Looking and looking, I could find no signs of life. It was a hopeless case until I realized I was too busy looking outside that I missed the most important thing.
Life was within me. Nature was there all along. My lungs look like tree branches, my brain looks like walnuts, and the freckles on my arms look like stars. I am nature, and nature is within.
Staying was the first step. Next was to give. To allow the waters to flow beneath my feet and the light to shine. Soon sprouts started to show, and tree branches began to grow.
To stay is to live. And to live is to give for life comes from life.
Staying Power
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
8 x 10 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
Back when people lived in caves and saber-tooth tigers roamed the land, the world was sharp. From the blades of grass to the teeth on those tigers, everything went straight to the point. All the people had spiky hair.
Well, except for one girl. Her hair was wild and wavy. She talked in circles, and everyone had a hard time following her. When her tribe gathered food from the field, they loaded everything into big carts. The carts had wheels, but they weren’t the kind we have today. No, these wheels had four straight sides and four sharp points. The strongest of the clan had to push the cart to make the square wheels turn.
The little girl went to school to learn how to build the square wheels, but she was dyslexic and couldn’t count. The first wheel she made had 3 lopsided sides. Her classmates laughed. The second wheel had 7 very uneven edges. Then there was a five-sided attempt. Her teachers tried everything but couldn’t get her to make square wheels; they had no choice but to kick her out.
With nothing to do, she sat and watched her relatives push square wheels all day. “There’s got to be another way!” she’d think to herself. So she’d experiment, but every time she’d try something, the others would laugh at her.
Deeply ashamed, she ran up the hill and far, far away. As the sun went down and she felt utterly alone and hopeless, she looked up and saw a full moon-a perfect circle.
“That’s it!!” She grabbed a stone and started carving.
Five sides turned to seven and then seventeen. The girl kept carving more and more until there were infinite sides and then none at all. The wheel was so smooth it slipped out of her hands and started rolling.
She chased after it and then leaped on top of it. Riding the wheel all the way through the village and beyond. Legend has it she’s still riding that wheel today.
Riding the Wheel
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
16 x 16 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
What happens next?
Johnny leaned forward. His eyes widened as he listened to his uncle tell the story of taking down a bear with a mere pebble. The images in Johnny's mind were so vivid. He could see the bear's nostrils flare as it stood on its hind legs to roar.
His mother could barely pry Johnny away to bed, as he begged to stay until the end. "Please, please, let me hear what happens next."
The school of our ancestors—the classroom of smoke and stories. Many years later, when Johnny was walking down a winding path, a bear appeared. Its nostrils began to flare. Without thinking, Johnny dropped to the ground and grabbed a pebble. He had done this before, once in his imagination and now in reality. And so the story was told.
School of Our Ancestors
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
12 x 12 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
The Earth was told to focus. She was told you have way too much going on and that having so many different types of birds was confusing. She was told she was messy. The roots and branches were too entangled and needed to be organized. She was told to pick one tree and one bird and ditch the rest. Then the world will make sense.
Humanity was spinning out of control, and consensus could not be found. Pick one person, one race, one gender, one religion, and ditch the rest it was told. Then there will be peace.
The puzzle had too many pieces, and it was getting overwhelming. Pick your favorite part and throw out the rest it was told. Then it would have clarity.
But one day, a disease wiped out the one type of tree. All the trees were gone without other species to act as a buffer. The one species of bird that relied on that one type of tree was now gone. The one kind of person found it could not survive without someone else to grow the food, make the clothes and take care of the sick. It was lonely without the rest. It needed its fellow pieces to belong. And the one puzzle piece never found its place.
And so, despite all the advice, the Earth knew what to do. She opened the flood gates and let diversity flow. Humanity brought back all different types of people again. And the puzzle reunited with its missing pieces.
For diversity is the key to sustainability. It is the key to life.
Together We Are Whole
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
One of my favorite gifts my dad gave me was a an easel he made. It’s carved out of wood and says “Creativity happens at the border between chaos and order.” He knew me well.
Type the Pi symbol into your calculator and you’re going to see a slice of chaos. Everyone knows the first few numbers (3.14 …) but it keeps going. Get a bigger calculator and the number gets bigger. I’m fact mathematicians have actually broken computers trying the calculate the whole thing. It’s too infinite to define. But out of all this mess comes circles which are balanced and whole. Look anywhere in nature and you’ll find a mixture of chaos and order.
Natural Numbers
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
When the world has gone crazy, we have a choice. We can be empaths and shrink under the weight of insanity. Or we can be outpaths by finding the part of ourselves that is already whole and shining out to impact everyone around us.
Little Light
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines and black paint.
12 x 16 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
]]>
Sticks and leaves and twigs – she flew back and forth from tree to light. Her nest was hidden away from the rest. A special little spot all to her own delight.
Little did she know that she was about to glow. My friend, the little birdie, built her nest inside the light next to the front door. At night, she would light up and glow like the full moon on a starry night.
Nest of Light
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
12 x 16 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
There was once a Zebra who was tired of running. As soon as they got comfortable with a patch of grass, the lions would come, and they were off again.
He asked his dad, “Why do we run?"
His dad chuckled and replied, “Because the lions will eat us.”
What a silly question.
But the Zebra would not give up on his question and thought long and hard. One day the epiphany came. What if we ran toward the lions instead of away from them? There are more of us than them. They’d have to move out of the way to avoid getting trampled.
Convincing the other zebras was impossible. They were stuck in their ways. The idea of running toward the lions seemed too scary, too risky and a path to certain death. But the Zebra would not give up.
One day he decided to go for it even though the rest of the pack was not with him. The lions came. As his family ran, he turned and bolted toward the threat. His dad looked back to realize what was happening.
“Nooo!” He turned to run toward his son to save him.
Then his mom and sister saw what was happening.
“Noooo!” They too turned to save their family.
And that’s how it happened. One by one the entire herd turned. And the lions got spooked and turned, too. Chase your fears so they won’t chase you.
Taking Back the Field
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
18 x 24 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.
In every office, there is a closet. A place where the unspoken solutions hide.
There is more value inside your employees, students, and fellow citizens that you may realize. On the surface, they play their part. They do their job. They fit within the lines. But underneath, ideas brew.
You'll never see these innovations because they don't fit within the job description or the homework assignment. They don't fit within a normal conversation.
In nature, there are no boxes. Those are human things.
It's time to take that which lives in the fringes and bring it to the center of society so everyone can see. Because solutions come from those who think differently.
Supported to Thrive
Story and artwork by Pi Luna
Created out of tiny pieces of paper cut out of recycled magazines.
12 x 12 inches
I am grateful for your loving contributions. They help pay the costs of running this website and allow me to continue to share free content. Thank you.