“Ironic, but one of the most intimate acts

of our body is

death.

So beautiful appeared my death–knowing who then I would kiss,

I died a thousand times before I died.

‘Die before you die,’ said the Prophet

Muhammad.

Have wings that feared ever

touched the Sun?

I was born when all I once

feared–I could

love.”

―Rabi‘a al-Basri

When setting out to create our 10th issue—coming next week—we had no idea what world we would be releasing it into. Here in the United States, that world feels like one that is holding its breath ahead of an administration that risks upending the hard fought progress of our movements. And so it feels eerily fitting to introduce Atmos Volume 10: Afterlife, which seeks to answer the question: what comes next?

Our latest issue is a meditation on waste, upcycling, composting, and rebirth. In the natural world, nothing goes to waste. Matter constantly decomposes and reconstitutes in new shapes, serving new purposes. We have much to learn from this continuum of transmutation. In human societies, we throw “away” our waste to some invisible hereafter, rather than accept the truth: It remains. 

And even on a planet balanced perilously on many edges, wonder remains, too—as renowned biodiversity experts Elizabeth Kolbert and Craig Foster illuminate in “Vanishing Awe.” Those edges and the treasures they hold are further explored in the rapidly shifting landscapes of the Arctic (“Thawing Out”), and the salmon forests of the Pacific Northwest and the Canadian coast, where life and death are delicately intertwined (“Life-Giving Death”).

Rebirth is a thread woven throughout many stories in this issue—such as “Beyond the Grave,” in which human composting pioneer Katrina Spade and Buddhist scholar Stephanie Kaza discuss mortality and reincarnation. In “Witching Hour,” author and visionary adrienne maree brown and I go deep on the alchemical power of transformative justice, while “Spirit Moves” depicts the otherworldly dance known as Butoh. And in “Embracing the End,” sustainable fashion maverick Mara Hoffman reflects on a year of beginnings and endings.

Other stories urgently ask what comes next for entire peoples and populations, such as those currently trying to survive a genocide in Gaza (“Notes on Palestinian Spectrality”), the trans community seeking sovereignty and legal recognition in Colombia (“A Portal to a New Reality”), and our fellow mammals facing extinction (“A New Genetic Life Support”).

Our societies’ warped relationship with death is reflected in the waste crisis as well—in our failure to grasp the full lifecycle of the materials we interact with daily (see “Talking Trash,” “Rapt in Plastic,” “Waste Not,” and “The Messy Truth”). But, if I believe in anything, it’s our capacity to change, to birth new worlds. “Zero Waste Town” reveals one: Kamikatsu, a Japanese town working toward an ambitious zero-waste goal. And “Full Circle” depicts many such futures in a portfolio of upcycled clothing across the globe.

In death-drenched times when ugliness is made plain and apathy threatens us with its freezing embrace, I will cling even tighter to the beauty that still flowers in this world. And it’s not aesthetics I’m gesturing toward, but the sublimity of wholeness—knowing that we are one with the sacred cycle of growth and decay. That is the only “after” I hope is next for us: the realization that there is heaven to be found here, in the loam laid beneath our feet. Life, from death.

Atmos Volume 10: Afterlife arrives Monday, December 2nd. Join our BIOME to receive an exclusive cover.