Immune Response

Thank you for protecting us. You were so brave. You did exactly what you needed to do to keep that mess from doing its worst. Considering all of the ways we could have been done in, all of the dangers at the door, it’s really a marvel that you knew just what to do. Your arsenal was stocked and you, skilled at using everything in there. You kept us safe. You have our deepest gratitude.

Now that we’re sitting down here together, we have something else to tell you. It’s important. We need you to hear this. Are you ready?

We are ok.

For real. 

The threat is gone. It really is. 

We understand your skepticism. It’s been your mission since the dawn of us to scan the horizon and know the shape of danger. While we’re in here fiddling with our day-to-day pursuits, oblivious to the chinks in our own armor and everything slipping through, you’ve been on the job. Dedicated to the task of identifying and eradicating invaders. So yes, you have every reason to think this claim of safety is hubris. But it’s true nonetheless. 

You don’t need to keep fighting now. It’s ok to rest. To stand down. 

You’ve been fighting for a while now. Long after the danger was gone. For this, we ask not just for a ceasefire but also for your forgiveness. We were the ones ignorant of your battle. That is our folly. And, if we’re honest, our tendency. We set off fireworks and held bonfire parties on the beach while you were busy rooting out the enemy. Of course you mistook our debauchery for danger, for an attack on our own soil. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You identified a threat and you took it out. 

You, exhausted, on high alert, disoriented, is it any wonder you haven’t been able to trust we are safe? We didn’t let you settle down. We still haven’t let you settle down, not really.

That all changes now. You have earned a breather and now you can take it. Really. Paid, with full benefits.

This is the season of rest and restoration. 

We get it, this will take some adjusting. We have time to figure it out together. But you can start now. Right now. To release your grip on those weapons and on that search-and-destroy technology. Power it down, set it aside. 

Now we replant. We tend. This land was decimated in the surge season. And if we are going to make that battle worthwhile, all the injury and all the loss, we have to turn to healing. 

What survived in the hollows and hidden places needs stillness to hatch. Believe it or not, seedlings are starting to take root. A thousand good creatures are building nests, pollinating their blossoms, and spinning their webs.

We will welcome them with our gentlest touch.  With quiet.

Of course, nature’s mercy is fleeting. There will be a time in the future when we will need your defense expertise. You will always be our most able warrior, so you can forget about a retirement party. The work we do regenerating this fertile place will keep your hands ready and reflexes quick. 

A bounty is on the horizon. This is a hope we can magic into a promise if we stick together. We have survived the age of strife and now we welcome the season of rest and restoration. 

On the other side this quiet root work is our awakening. 

We – all of us, you included – will be able to unfurl again. Towards the light. Towards neighbors. We will be free to play. To do our good work. To climb to the high branches. To dance. To honor what we belong to. To rest deeply in the enduring comfort of that belonging.

Please, join us.