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The Heartbeat of the Earth

March 1, 2024/ Brian Lynn

At approximately 2:00 p.m. on June 18, 2023, I learned of something that I thought was certain to change the world forever. It began like any other paradigm shift in recent memory. I learned about it the same way I learned about COVID-19, January 6th, Russia invading Ukraine, etc.—the same way anyone learns about any breaking news nowadays—by refreshing my newsfeed on Twitter (now called “X” but not by me). As I scrolled, the same image kept popping up with little to no context. It was a screenshot of some kind of radiation monitor that showed green static imposed over a blue background with numbers on the side and at the bottom. Sort of like a heart monitor but way more sci-fi. Following the graph from left to right, between the numbers 17 and 18, there was a blank space and then the graph looked weird…the green lines of static turned into these beautiful geodesic shapes like diamonds and swirls. I didn’t know what it meant, but I could tell it wasn’t supposed to look like that, and based on the caption that accompanied these pictures, it was something important. “THIS IS HUGE,” some of the captions read. “THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.” I needed to learn more.

So, I did what any modern, responsible citizen does when trying to expand their understanding of a subject—I pulled out my phone and opened TikTok. And holy shit. If you ever have the feeling something is blowing up on Twitter, it has probably already taken TikTok by absolute storm. People were seriously freaking out over these geodesic shapes.

After a few minutes of sifting through videos, I learned a bit more. What these people were freaking out about was an anomaly in the generally static recordings of something called the Schumann Resonance, also frequently referred to as the “heartbeat of the Earth.” The resonance is a relatively complicated phenomenon in physics, but it basically has to do with the ionosphere being charged as hell and teeming with electricity, which is how we get lightning. At any given moment, thousands of bolts of lightning are striking all over the Earth, popping ions into photons and sending them ricocheting down from the top of the ionosphere to the ground, where they bounce around and eventually fade as they reverberate through the atmosphere. This keeps a constant buzz or hum that settles at around 7.8 hertz, and sometimes flares up to 14, 24, and 35, with diminishing frequency. But 7.8 is the median, the sweet spot, the resting heartbeat of the planet if you will.

The resonance is monitored around the world by “Ground-Based Magnetometers,” and on that day, the magnetometers were showing something way different than usual. What is usually depicted as a fuzzy green line on a graph turned into a mosaic of shapes and colors. Moreso, the patterns didn’t look random at all; they looked very intentional, as if created by intelligent design. It was as if the Schumann resonance, the very consistent heartbeat of the Earth, was being manipulated. The readings were all over the place and could not be explained by any natural phenomenon. It looked like someone, or something, was trying to send us a message…

There were only two possibilities: Aliens. Or God.

Before I knew it, the algorithm began feeding me video after video about this anomaly and what it meant for civilization. It seemed like everyone was seeing the same thing I was and freaking out about it nearly as much. Then, the algorithm got a bit more specific. I slowly moved away from physics TikTok and ended up in spiritual TikTok. Which oddly overlap? This rabbit hole brought me into a world of vibrations. My phone brought me videos about tapping into the Earth’s frequency and towards whole channels dedicated to the Heartbeat of the Earth. Apparently, a lot of life’s rhythmical patterns operate at a frequency close to 7.8 hertz, which is low enough to travel through tissue and muscle. The conclusion was simple, if this were a message, we would have confirmation of it soon. If some entities’ way of communicating was to muddle with the planet’s frequencies, it would be something we could all feel. An upswell of sorts. A spiritual awakening. A cosmic ascendance.

But it turns out there was a third option to the anomaly’s origins: Human Error (or People Making Shit Up).

It didn’t take long for people to realize the anomaly was just that, an anomaly. You wouldn’t know it from the flood of videos about it that came out on or around that day in the middle of June, but the image of the geodesic shapes only came from one station monitoring the Schumann Resonance, of which there were dozens around the world, none of which detected similar readings. After a few days had passed and no one was able to independently verify these readings, the internet turned against the “miracle” narrative, deciding through careful, democratic analysis that the station that had reported the anomaly had just undergone a reboot, and the projection was not a reading of the Earth’s general resonance but an error that was never meant to be broadcast in the first place.

Eventually, the story faded into the background of my newsfeed, relegated to the end of the line of the algorithm. For a brief moment, I thought everything I knew about the world was about to be flipped on its head, changed forever. I was moments away from calling my family and friends to be the first one to tell them, “They’re here! The aliens are here!” Thank God I didn’t do that.

I will admit, I am glad I learned what I did about the planet’s frequency, where it comes from and how we can detect it. It feels good to think about the Earth as being one big living creature. Reader, if you feel at all inclined to dive down this rabbit hole like I did, be wary of pseudoscience and click-bait. As with anything worth taking an interest in, there is a lot of misinfo out there. But I do encourage you to explore a little. A part of me feels like I have unlocked some big secret by familiarizing myself with the heartbeat of the earth. I can’t explain why, as it serves me no practical purpose, but it feels good to have this knowledge. Maybe there is a little something to the ascendance theory after all…

Headshot of author, Brian Lynn, adult male with beard, wearing dark sunglasses, a white shirt and a white headband.

Brian Lynn is a writer and idealist from South Florida. He finds inspiration in the natural world around him, where he spends most of his time. He lives with his dog, Zora, and his two fish, Bill and Ted.

Midnight Snack Archive

  • 2025
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Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published the second Friday of every month.

Today’s course:

Being A Girl is Hard

November 28, 2025/in Blog / Shawn Elliott
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Diagnosis: Persisted or Silent Inheritance

November 7, 2025/in Blog / Paula Williamson
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The Queer Ultimatum Made Me Give My Own Ultimatum

September 26, 2025/in Blog / Lex Garcia
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Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every third Friday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

I Try So Hard Not to Bite Off His Tongue & One Poem

November 21, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / Sheree La Puma
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Those from sadness – Found Poem

November 14, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / Yirui Pan
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/Pan_headshot.jpg 1707 1280 Yirui Pan https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Yirui Pan2025-11-14 11:00:102025-12-11 17:48:51Those from sadness – Found Poem

My Town

October 31, 2025/in Amuse-Bouche / Shoshauna Shy
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School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
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A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
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Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
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Word From the Editor

Editing issue 28, I felt something similar to the way I feel near water: I dove into my own private world. The world above the surface kept roaring, of course. The notifications, deadlines, the constant noise was always there. But inside the work, inside these poems and stories and artwork, there was a quiet that felt entirely mine. A place where I could breathe differently.

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