Season's greetings!
We're a week away from Winter Solstice, when the cycle of light begins anew. Slowly but surely, the light returns as our days will grow longer yet again.
Right now in the Northern Hemisphere, we find ourselves deepening into the darkest day of the year. And yet, we are bombarded with vapid Hallmark holiday cheer as our Westernized society desperately turns on all of the lights (literally and figuratively) to drown out the darkness we may naturally feel during this seasonal shift.
Where is the space to slow down, be enveloped in silence, and sit with the year's grief? Surely, it's not carved out for you when decking the halls, wrapping the gifts, and baking the cookies.
So when, and more importantly, how will you sit with, feel into, and transmute your grief in these darkest hours?
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I've personally spent the last few weeks confronting a matter very deer to my heart:
These long nights have served as the medicine needed to sit with my own philosophies surrounding my first archery deer season. If you asked me at the beginning of my season if I would take a doe, I would strongly exclaim, “No, I can’t bring myself to do that.” With my hunting season coming to a close on Sunday and no wild game in my freezer, ask me that same question now, and I’ll calmly say, “If she presents herself to me, I will graciously take her.”
It’s a complex tangle of feelings for me. I came to hunting with a desire to be deeply connected to my food, the land I live on, and the creatures I call kindred: the deer people. Because I see myself in the doe, I feel protective of her. In some twisted way, killing a doe is like killing myself.
After a long, hard hunting season, I’ve grappled with what I feel comfortable taking with my bow, and beyond my personal feelings, how others will perceive my choice to take the life of a doe.
Within the hunting community, there’s the stereotypical grandeur associated with taking a buck and the acceptance of a youth or female hunter taking a doe because it’s often seen as easier due to the higher ratio of does to bucks. Of course, my reaction is one of wanting to prove others wrong and not take the easy route.
Those who are not hunters, and especially those who are food/nature/death disconnected, may react to my choice to take a doe with judgment and disbelief akin to the, “Oh, how could you do that?” sentiment. I can already imagine showing photos of my doe on the ground and the awkward reactions and challenging conversations to follow.
Ultimately, I’ve landed on not giving a fuck what anyone else thinks about how I choose to hunt. I know how I feel, I know what’s important to me, and I know why I hunt. Whether doe or buck, if I am able to fill my tag this weekend, the deer sacrificed by my arrow will be honored, cherished, and deeply loved for the life it will provide.
@huntressawakens
My archery season ended yesterday, with an arrow knocked, chasing after a group of two Columbia Blacktail does and a forky at last light, after they got wind of us when they were just 17 yds away. It was an incredibly exciting way to close out my first archery hunting season, and that trio of deer served as an omen of hope that will carry me through to next August when I will be able to walk the woods with my bow yet again to commune with these creatures in hopes of becoming part deer. In honor of closing out my hunting season, I'm sharing with you a poignant documentary and grounding podcast related to food sovereignty. May they inspire, educate, and challenge your own perceptions of what it means to be connected to land, food, and life.
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