During this time of year, we are reminded of the cyclical aspect of nature. Our lives like the seasons roll along with their own rhythm. There are light, sunny times; but there are also dark and cold periods. We feel the joy in the kiss of summer sun as we wander through a field aglory with wild flowers. At other times, we may feel isolated on a dark night. We can see his interplay of contrasts is life itself. It is reflected in the annual cycle of the seasons. This is exemplified in the agricultural god son of the Sun Goddess. He is born on the darkest night (celebrated by the ancestors as Mother’s Night). He grows as the seed germinates warmed by the light of his mother and watered with her tears of joy. His return is a reminder that this-too-shall-pass. The highs accent the lows; and the lows teach us to savor our moments in the sun. It may be cold out, but the crisp air makes the stars shine that much brighter.
This season of reflection and hope seems an appropriate time to share the opening of my upcoming title Puck You! The Crooked Path of Queer Resistance a follow-up, of sorts, to Breeding Devils in Chaos.
Riding the Waves
We may feel miserable because we get too wrapped up in our sense of self. So, what does it mean? When we become consumed by our individuated identities, we create a divide between ourselves and the world around us. We become like islands when we draw invisible lines between what we perceive as “me” and what is “not me.”
This self-centric view isolates us and blocks our natural flow. It’s as if we’ve become frozen, lacking the warmth and connection that bring life to our experience. Love and joy are the essence of what makes us human, yet when we’re rigid in ourselves, we often distance ourselves from these feelings. We may fear that if we allow love in and embrace joy, our carefully constructed boundaries will begin to fade. At first, this can be unsettling. Distance and closing off can provide a false sense of safety.
But there’s a beautiful truth: it’s through love, joy, and their extension in kindness that we truly experience our innate freedom. When we open ourselves up to these feelings, the walls we’ve built around ourselves begin to melt away. Instead of being like ice, we can be vibrant and flowing. The path from cold isolation embraces warmth and connection with others. As we risk opening ourselves, we move beyond the limitations of an isolated sense of self and step onto a path that opens to a world filled with love, growth, and possibility.
Our lives are filled with ups and downs, darkness and light.
Observe the ocean waves. The higher they rise, the more profound the low that follows. One moment, you are soaring at the crest, and the next, you find yourself in the serene hollowness of the trough. Embrace both experiences; don’t become fixated on one. Avoid thinking, “I want to stay in this high forever.” That’s a fantasy. It’s simply not how life works. It’s a truth: peaks are fleeting, and so are valleys. When the peaks come, savor their beauty, but when you slip into the valleys, appreciate that too. There’s nothing wrong with the low points. Valleys can be moments that allow time for reflection. Peaks are exhilarating, but living in constant excitement isn’t sustainable. So, relish every moment—whether you’re on top of the world or finding peace in the depths below. Each has its beauty and purpose.
There is a path through the wasteland. It’s a crooked path—bent and queer. Connecting with our past lives, ancestors, and craft brothers, we build relationships that lift us out of ourselves and the occluding maelstrom that sometimes seems to swirl around us. The vagaries of time are like breezes that blow against us as we walk along. Sometimes, they may feel like profound headwinds, but they are blustery and refreshing in others.
