We are not evil.
We are not born to destroy.
We do not rise each day to poison the sky, to betray each other, to carve greed into the bones of the earth.
We are just…
Childish sometimes.
Frightened.
Trying too hard to survive in a world that made survival feel like war.
We came into this life with soft hands and wide eyes.
We were meant to love.
Meant to touch gently, to listen deeply, to shape with wonder.
But the world taught us to chase.
To take.
To hoard.
And so, we forgot.
We forgot that enough is a feast.
That kindness is strength.
That the sacred lives in the smallest moments—in bread rising, in seeds sprouting, in tears shared without shame.
Greed did not grow from evil.
It grew from fear.
We feared there wouldn’t be enough.
We feared being left behind.
We feared that without power, we would be invisible, unloved, unworthy.
And so we built faster than our hearts could catch up.
We covered the forests with machines.
We replaced trust with contracts.
We turned love into strategy.
But somewhere inside,
beneath the concrete and the noise and the scrolling and the shame,
we still remember.
We remember how it feels to sing with others and mean it.
To make something with our hands and feel proud.
To look at a river and feel awe, not ownership.
To lie beside someone and breathe together in the quiet.
That memory is not lost.
It’s buried, maybe. Bruised. But not gone.
And now—
Now is the time to uncover it.
Not with judgment.
Not with rage.
But with tenderness.
We are not evil.
We are young.
And now, we are waking up.
Waking up to the cost of forgetting.
Waking up to the beauty we almost lost.
Waking up to the truth that we were never meant to live like this—so isolated, so exhausted, so afraid.
The earth still loves us.
She aches, but she loves.
The trees still reach for us.
The water still remembers our name.
The fire still dances when we gather in circle.
The wind still carries our songs, if only we’ll sing them again.
So come back.
Come back to care.
To slowness.
To shared bread and open hands.
To the kind of making that heals.
We are not broken.
We are becoming.
And this—this remembering—
is the first breath of a new world,
the breath of love back into life.
