A Half-Built Garden

by Ruthanna Emrys

The first power was nature. In humanity’s infancy, power was not yet ours to hold. Laws and forces beyond human comprehension shaped our lives, and everything we did was aimed at survival. The second power was spirit. Incomprehensible forces took on form and personality. We struggled to comprehend their whims, and power was born from divine approval. The third power was law. We decided what we thought right, and set principles above any king. Power became at last a human thing. The fourth power was money. The forms we built took on life of their own, and the power we created escaped from our grasp and devoured us. The fifth power is nature. We understand the wisdom in the forces that first shaped us, but now we adapt to them, learn from their patterns, and dance with them. Power is ours, but not ours alone, and we can create harmony with the world.

“All species must leave their birth worlds, or give up their technological development, or die. You are very close.”

“This is one reason we bring children to difficult discussions. They interrupt slides into frustration. They make us stop and think.” “That makes sense.” It probably would’ve prevented a few wars on Earth, if everyone had to pause their insults to change diapers on a regular basis.

Everyone has their kids along, so no one is going to start anything dangerous.”

here-there-be-dragons

“And the Native Americans and First Nations and Australian aboriginals, did any of them get to keep their land by acting white? They converted, changed how they dressed, even changed how they treated gender. Did we ever get anywhere by acting more Christian, or by trying to fit into the boxes they built for us? We survive by being stubborn about who we are, whatever else happens.”

“I’m not against humanity going to the stars. But if we leave Earth behind, we won’t make it out there, either. That ash tree grows high and wide with its roots in the ground. But more than that—if we don’t learn first how to take care of this world, how to be part of the ecology here, we won’t do better anywhere else. That’s growing up.”

The corporations tried to do the same thing, but they’d create needs in order to fill them. It looked symbiotic, but it was one-sided, because most of the needs weren’t real. Or else they created artificial shortages of true needs, to make their goods worth more. They’re parasites.”

But that’s always been the problem with corporations. They rarely came at anyone with weapons. They calibrated their threats to be deniable, invisible to those whose judgments mattered. And too many people had died still trying desperately to be rational, polite, forgiving.

Even talking the situation over with one new person reminded me that problem-solving worked better collectively.

The gift is found when we reach, trusting that we will find.” Prompted, Athëo said, “We waited, and … didn’t know that we were waiting.” He sounded not doubtful, as I might have expected, but thoughtful in his hesitations. “Together,” said Rhamnetin, “the cycle is open to us.” “Only together, we, um, reach out?” “Not quite. Reach again, and grasp what we find.” “Only together we reach again,” said Athëo, “and grasp what we find. Whatever that turns out to be.”

Communication is more important than continuity.”

They say German has a long word for everything, but among the dandelion networks, plains-ache is the yearning for an evolutionary ecology you’ve never lived in yourself, the body’s bone-deep knowledge of things that would make it not healthiest but happiest, that would feel right and quiet the anxiety-monkey behind your civilized forebrain. Walking for hours till you can feel it from spine to sole, a picnic with people you’ve known your whole life, a fresh-picked berry, a midday nap—a tiny taste of what your brain thinks it’s good for. Sometimes those things are actively bad for us, like waiting for the big ape to yell about the latest emergency, but even that can feel like a surge of home as overwhelming as the smell of baking bread.

“If you ask me, that kind of biological roller coaster looks like more fun to watch than to do, but then they think we’re weirdly stuck in our ways. It’s part of how we complement each other. Plains-folk constantly shift how they interact with the universe; tree-folk keep everything connected and stable.”