Aang-Waan*

Humans tell ourselves stories, and we build stuff. With time, we have insulated ourselves from the heartbeat of the natural world, and our stories have rattled free from the pulse of the planet. The old stories, traditions and place-based knowledge that grounded our feet in the texture of the soil, that guided a relationship to our habitat that evolved over millennia. We used to know where we fit in.

From taming the west to leave no trace, new narratives obscured our view of the outdoors through a window tinted with commercial intention. We now carry glowing squares of glass—peering through obsessively at the world as portrayed by algorithms—in desperate search for truth, meaning and purpose. Is it a surprise we find ourselves in a moral panic—questioning the fundamental tenants of reality itself?

In this time of introspection, let us prioritize gathering at campfires as humans have always done in times of stress. You can find me at the fire where we are working to restore natural process and order in our living world—that our children’s children may play in a resilient world of wetlands, forests and grasslands—secure in knowing their place in the ecosystem without guilt, fear, or delusion. We are here together, now.