Did We Simply Forget Why We’re Here?

What happens when we remember?

The first humans didn’t create empires. We created rhythm — drums from hollow logs, stories by firelight, and songs to call the sun.

We didn’t build banks or brands. Instead, we tracked seasons with our bodies, not clocks. We read rivers, frequencies, not screens.

We exchanged value in the form of trust, relationships, and community — not mere efficient transactions or likes.

We created language not to argue, but to name the stars. To pass down dreams. To say “you matter” without saying a word.

We created tools — not to dominate, but to dance with nature. A basket to carry berries. A net to feed many, not hoard for one.

We created ceremony. Not religion, but remembrance — a way to feel small and infinite in the same breath.

We created villages, then forgot we were part of a greater village — Earth herself. That’s when things got weird.

But before the forgetting, before the systems, before the scripts — we created a way of being. Present. Tuned in. Alive.

And maybe that’s where we begin now — not by re-building, but by questioning: Maybe we’re not the owners. We’re not the problem. We’re the creators.

Still.