“What an amazing and terrible and beautiful story we are all in together. We are all part of what’s going to happen, and we each have a part in which way the story will go.”

—Joy Harjo

When I tell people about my work with Atmos, one of the most common responses I receive is some version of: “Oh, that must be so depressing.” And that’s true sometimes. But the more I steep myself in this movement, the more I meet inspiring people who are pouring all of their generosity and creativity into growing a more regenerative world—and the more convinced I am that mass transmutation is possible. Such was the case last week at the 36th annual Bioneers gathering in Berkeley, California, aptly presented as a revolution from the heart of nature.

One of the first keynote speakers was Biomimicry Institute Co-Founder Janine Benyus, who has devoted her life to innovative design modeled after nature’s intelligence. She spoke of life being adept at creating conditions conducive to life, and our human capacity to partake in such magnanimity: “We are young, but this is our true home. We belong here. I think our true nature is generous, because we are a biological being. We can do what life does—I know that we can.” Stay tuned for Janine’s episode on this season of our new podcast, The Nature Of.

Generosity is a subject that Pat McCabe (Woman Stands Shining), brought into our joint talk on sacred ecology. She spoke of omnibenevolence—a reciprocity that extends beyond symbiosis between two beings. For example: A hummingbird might pollinate a flower, and that flower might nourish it in return, but the good doesn’t end there; the entire ecosystem benefits from their relationship. As Pat put it, the hummingbird holds up the whole world. And we do the same when we spread benevolence through individual actions and exchanges.

Days later, I spoke on a panel about queering kinship. Our facilitator, Kristin Rothballer, shared about her experience training as a death doula and how it connected to embodiment for her. It helped me see my own queer journey in a different light, as its own death process. Whether through coming out or transitioning, all queer people go through a kind of rebirth. We spoke of the medicine that our community holds for a world that is currently undergoing immense breakdown and decay, which are an unavoidable part of transformation. Just ask butterflies.

And that medicine must be shared. A recurring theme throughout Bioneers was that we must widen our circle of kinship. Ben Jealous, executive director of the Sierra Club, was met with thunderous applause after his talk on how the green transition can and must lift all boats, and how we have to be willing to join hands with those who don’t share our views. He harkened back to the words of Martin Luther King Jr. when he said: “Sitting in a room feeling comfortable in a coalition is insufficient. If you are comfortable in your coalition, your coalition is too small.”

It’s a gift to be in the presence of wise and artful truthtellers—ones like writer and producer Baratunde Thurston. He spoke of the story of scarcity being peddled by those in power in places like the United States right now—the story that says we must hoard and extract. Baratunde called on all of us to remember the other story, the one of nature, that knows there is more than enough if we work together. As he put it: “The future we want is already here. The story we need we’re embedded within. We must tell it again and again and again. That’s how we make it true.”

Perhaps the greatest gift, though, was getting to experience this gathering with my family: my mom and brother who I learned to tell stories from. In the end, that’s what Bioneers was about—kinship instead of isolation. Those three days were a reminder of how healing and fruitful it is to spend time with others who want to show up for the world with openness, courage, and determination. Or, as my mother has always called them: people of heart.