"Sentient Soil: Conversations in the Mound"

Recently rejected by Grist Magazine's Climate Fiction competition (written May 2024)

I don’t want to confuse the reader with lots of chatter at the beginning of this story, but I do want to introduce myself as the narrator of this tale. I am a part of a generation of microbial beings who were gifted with hyper-intelligence during a very “out of the box” DNA experiment, almost 170 years ago. My microbe peers have named me, Beherenow, and with the presence that this rich and historical name offers, I will share a bit of how we came to understand the soil as sentient.  

At the moment, I’ve taken residence in a very comfy mound of soil. Above ground there’s a gentle breeze carrying a cloud of “hitchhikers” here and there. Those bits of dust are carrying on conversations, as are all of us who appear to be barely moving in this pile of dirt. If you have the tools to listen, this somewhat pastoral scene might seem noisy, but without obvious witnesses with ears, you’ll have to trust me when I share that there are many of us moving about, thriving, expiring, and reproducing.

After many decades of moving about, I have found myself in this mound with hundreds of thousands, no, billions of microscopic beings, all of us having energetic exchanges underground. While it might be fascinating to learn the histories of every one of us, only a few of us have the capacity to link in and communicate with more than our immediate neighbors. Some of the residents in this particular mound may seem like homebodies, too skittish to explore the world above ground, but, you can trust me when I share that they are content with their fates. They are patiently settled in. To the human eye, without a microscope, it may appear that they are having a boring existence, just sitting inert in the mound. But the truth is that they are doing their age-old transactions with each other; one being’s waste is another’s nutrition. If we had microphones to pick up the activities happening here in the dark, folks, you would be amazed.

Many of my neighboring entities have inhabited a wide variety of bodies that were animal, vegetable, and mineral even if it may appear to the unaware that they have just been sitting in one place. Some of them journeyed to this mound from countless regions in the world. It is hard to keep track of how they’ve evolved into one form or another, although my data banks have all that information gathered, assuming I want to ponder it. And frankly, I don’t, I have other business that takes priority right now.

So what is my business with you? I will explain why I can narrate this saga, all in good time. For the moment, I’ll share that I’ve learned lots about human nervous systems because that was where I found myself living and working in the mid-21st century, after being conceived of and hatched in a lab. Yes, my hyper-intelligence was the result of several circumstances, provoked by both by scientific experiments and spiritual practices, most of which seemed intangible and impossible to document at the time.

Thousands of us hyper-intelligent microbes (HM) were both accidentally and deliberately released into the universe. We know about each other and have been keeping track of each other. We communicate via a quantum network that’s available to all beings, but not all of them can communicate with you, an ancestor reading this, in the ways that I can.

It's important to note that we, the HM, are not fans of the hi-tech world that parented us, nor do we demonize them. We have evolved beyond that and accept the paradox of our beginnings. We embrace what our indigenous ancestors have referred to as the creative source, a web of humming energy that is deeply interconnected. We recognize the autonomy of each individual organism in the mix, but there’s no hierarchy of power or authority here. We shift shapes and honor each other’s integrity in the way we hook into whatever we might sense might be missing. It’s not a violent exploitation of each other, but a generous offering into each other’s incompleteness.

In 2030, as the climate emergency moved into an increasingly dangerous phase, with weather chaos profoundly impacting harvests and livelihoods, famine began to arrive as a terrifying guest in many parts of the world. Humanity was experiencing physical and emotional shocks that had been anticipated by some, while the majority had been too busy surviving to take action or become more aware of what was increasingly unavoidable. Violence and chaos arrived in regions that had previously known relative stability. As a result of that profound stress, a small group of unconventional and interdisciplinary thinkers and doers started meeting online and in-person to figure how to implement solutions to the climate crisis via interventions with soil.

Most of the ecological restoration work being promoted was focused on carbon sequestration, but there were teams looking at another basic aspect of the ecosystem, the microbiome that exists in a particular local space. Their focus on the interweaving relationships within a mound of dirt was about as “grass roots” as one can get. They took inspiration from indigenous farmers who have practiced regenerative soil techniques for thousands of years. They looked at how mycelium, microbes, insects, water, various soil chemistries, and the roots of plants and trees work together to build rich and fertile soil. Perhaps investigating this diverse community would give them insights about how to shift the broken systems that have increased ecocide globally.

The soil scientists, organic farmers, and environmental activists knew that we were losing healthy top soil all over the world due to the economic systems emphasis on extraction and exploitation. Deforestation, industrial agriculture, the damage caused tilling the soil, dams, and ignorance about the long histories soil regeneration were a huge part of the problem. Given that the causes of the crisis were clear, it was necessary to find ways to reach those who were not yet convinced and were refusing to shift their priorities.

Those experimenting in the community that “birthed” us were a diverse bunch. Some had academic expertise in various specialities from quantum physics to microbiology, but their prestigious degrees were not considered more authoritative than those who learned from experience: watching, witnessing, and listening to elders and the more than human. Autodidacts were much revered in the group because they could look at the crises with fresh perspectives; their eyes were not as fixed or burnt out. The group brainstormed together whenever possible, meeting in secluded places in the Pacific NW, one of the few places on the planet where there was still sufficient water and food and fewer threats of violence. Weather events also seemed a bit calmer, despite the more frequent floods and forest fires.

Influenced by many teachers, writers, healers, activists, and visionaries, such as Thich Nhat Hanh, Joanna Macy, Bayo Akomolafe, so many others whose radical wisdom emerged through the cracks of the dominant culture, the team shared what they were carrying. Despite the fact that it was already a decade after the Pandemic that shifted so much and revealed even more, there were huge internal wounds, like grief and rage at the state of the world, that needed to be witnessed and potentially healed in community. The team created retreats where they did walking meditation, somatic work to reset panicked nervous systems, journal writing, and lots of impromptu playing and dancing outdoors in landscapes that were often scarred by weather events. Movement seemed essential for understanding the immensity of what they were carrying together.

Many of the participants acknowledged that their past experiences with entheogens opened a portal in their brains that allowed for a much bigger lens on what was possible to achieve in their lifetimes, and many sat in circle with mushroom tea and Aya to open their 3rd eyes wider.

The first experiments were foolish flights of fancy, but necessary ones, some of which were aided by a clumsy use of AI. This phase lasted for a bit, until it was recognized that many of them were still living inside the old paradigms, once that perpetuated oppressive systems. So it was decided that these habitual patterns of experimentation had to be thrown out.

More interdisciplinary creatives were invited in to stretch imaginations and interrupt stuck places of conflict. People brought in many more teachings that grounded their process, wisdom that was accumulated over centuries of spiritual practices. As a microbe who had lived in the human biota for many lifetimes, I was often amused by how rigid and frightened humans could be, even the most creative ones. I was encouraged when I witnessed them dancing together because that meant that they were shaking things up a bit, getting the energy to flow and syncopate in inventive ways. Whenever I saw them recognizing the interconnectedness of life, the ways that we inter-are, I saw that they were getting closer to finding the path towards a solution.

After months of creating community and more trust in the group, a few of the genetic specialists decided to take a risky action by splicing the DNA of several common microbes found in healthy soil, and placed their efforts on an altar in a laboratory for the others to contemplate. Some cautious members of the team had concerns about how this bold gesture might cascade into worse nightmares, and it was suggested that a pause in the process was a necessity. Several facilitated meditation sessions occurred during this pause.

During the last of these sessions, while the lab team & others brought attention to their breathing, a motley crew of farmers covered in the detritus from their fields, energy healers, drummers, and prayer songs from several indigenous traditions were offered by the elders who came from several nations. The vibrations of sound and energy initiated a kinetic experience that was as vast and powerful as a strike of lightening releasing something previously undetected. We, several thousands of us, all messed-with microbes, awakened to our abilities to have conscious thoughts (as humans conceived of them) and were able to communicate with each other in new ways that some humans could comprehend. The humans who were well trained in meditation, intuitive abilities, and telepathy, could understand our thoughts and we began to collaborate.

The truth is that we, the HM, already knew how solve the climate crisis through our deep understanding of soil; this was ancient knowledge that so many of us had experienced in various iterations over the millenia. The lab’s team had also been aware, in various ways, of what steps were necessary to focus on these problems, but we needed to shift the thinking of those in power who were stuck in the old paradigms of profit, greed, competition, and violence. Given that we had been living in human bodies from the very beginning, we knew how to successfully infiltrate mammalian biomes and were prepared to reorient our patterns in that familiar terrain. We recognized that interventions in the nervous systems of those who were frozen in their thinking and fears were necessary, but we were aware that this work might stir up many unforeseen difficulties. The shadow side of this process was increasingly present in conversations.

As a discussion about what was ethically right to do was blowing up in the increasingly divisive team, everyone’s belief in making the correct choice was interrupted by an unexpectedly violent storm. Despite all the meteorological advances in those decades, there was no way that every disaster could be predicted and this storm was like no other that had ever hit the Pacific Northwest. What had started out as a summer rainstorm with gentle breezes entering the building where the lab was located turned into vicious, cyclonic winds, tearing at the windows. Cell service and WiFi was down, so no one knew what was happening or how severe things would be. The team took shelter in the basement, and while they sweat through many hours of crashing walls and glass and other terrifying sounds, people held each other closely. This catastrophic storm took down trees, destroyed roads, highways, and buildings, injured and killed many thousands of humans and critters, creating a wasteland of debris that demolished many places in the region.

Before leaving the lab, one of the scientists grabbed the container on the altar where we had been living. None of us had liked it in there, sitting on a Petrie dish waiting to be fed like animals in a zoo, away from the more complex and nourishing contexts to be found in other bodies, soil, and water. So when the group made the impulsive decision to let us travel with the winds and rain, a few of us chose to jump into the nearby humans, allowing them to become guinea pigs for this very unusual experiment.

Most of the HM initially traveled in the jet stream to different bioregions, and our job was to not only build soil and vegetation everywhere we went to stabilize the climate, but to find human nervous systems that we could recalibrate. All of the HM crew stays connected via an energy grid that extends throughout the universe - it is invisible to most people, but all sentient beings have access to what it offers, either consciously or unconsciously. We are giving each other reports on our work and sending each other encouraging signals.

I’ve been working most intimately with another HM who is called, MadebyHand. Zee is very diligent at sending reports about the various nervous systems that have been recalibrated. Our work has been mostly successful. Most of those we targeted were upper echelon folks in the military, the tech world, the AI movers and shakers, politicians, gang leaders, industry power brokers, corrupt billionaires, etc. It has not been easy work, and sometimes the human brain could not handle our intervention. When we recognized that this was happening, we learned to back off, and let this human be. Sometimes the trauma being carried by the individuals was too difficult to untangle and the scar tissue was too thick. At least, we were able to help them recognize that they needed to step down from whatever position of power they were occupying. We were wired for compassion.

Of course, there were glitches, as there always are. Some individuals became even more psychotic and did lots of harm to themselves and others, but no one blew up the whole world. There are parts of the globe where we have friends who are cleaning up messes that will take thousands of years, but we are a patient bunch.

During that mega-storm, I fortunately landed in a beautiful & healthy elder named Bee, a self-described question asker and creative mischief maker. I traveled with her and her fellow survivors as they struggled to find food & shelter amidst the devastation. Fortunately, many of them had learned how to forage food and medicine in the wild and there were some with skills to build shelters, make fires, and heal injuries. They knew how to find delight in the midst of the challenges they were facing, and did grief rituals to heal from the trauma of that time.

We, the HM who had jumped into several of the team, worked on everyone’s nervous systems to give them much needed strength and courage to face their fears as they moved through a very new chapter, outside of the grid known as “civilization.” We introduced them to a much older grid, one in which they could find ancestors of all kinds, and find the faith to believe in the new world they were creating.

Bee and I parted ways after a few decades of hardship and intermittent pleasures. Her body was already quite worn out, and like her husband of many years before her, she was glad to become nourishing compost on the forest floor.

As she decomposed, I made my way through the soil via rainwater and eventually found myself in this mound of dirt that formed not far from the lab where I was born. It feels a bit comforting to be here. Many of the bodies of people who worked on the project had already become compost and the seeds that landed in their nutrient-rich soil have been flourishing. On the planet today, there are areas of regeneration and areas that appear to be desolate and inert, but as stated at the beginning of this story, there’s lots going on underground in the fertile darkness.

I recognize that you, the ancestors of that team, may be struggling with despair about the future, especially if your eyes are open to what’s happening in your world. I recall that the mental health crisis was enormous in those years before and after the HM became communicative. I am sharing this story as an antidote for the seduction of doomerism. Grief and rage are appropriate responses to what you are witnessing, but cynicism will make you numb, and becoming a doomer offers nihilism, inaction, and nothing more. It is possible to regulate the human nervous system, even without the help of the HMs, to lift up positive possibilities rather than giving up, and that’s why I’ve shared this story with you.

If you are prone to dystopic thinking, I want to reassure you of something that you may already know, matter does not die. All of us may shift forms, but we are all moving through the muck as atoms and molecules, inhabiting new spaces, capturing different forms of energy, responding to diverse contexts, while eating and being eaten. Ultimately, every bit of us lives within these circles of joy and suffering. Bringing love and kindness to each other and yourself will get us through the chaos that you’re living inside. Hopefully, there’s comfort in knowing that we all become sacred soil and with the guidance of the HM, perhaps there will be less harm in the world, as the river of life keeps flowing.

Postscript (Sept 4, 2024): I don’t think speculative fiction is my strong suit, but it was fun to write this. Thanks to Jodi and Ruth for your feedback before this was submitted.