Under the Ember Moon

My source of sight and knowledge.

I'm a curious person. I like to have dialog about anything. I like to express, but I also like to learn. What I say is not out of malice, but to spark a conversation.

Humans are meant to grow through intelligence. Intelligence is gained by knowledge. Knowledge is gained through experience.

Let's talk, you and I, and grow together.

My Spirit Guardians

Altar Contemplations

Footsteps of those before

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Mind & Spirit

I donate to the IRC. I can only support annually and a little, I wish I could do more. If others like me see the true atrocities that are happening here, please help. Whatever you can manage and even if you can't, please inform others and share the link below.

I can't imagine the pain, fear, and suffering they are enduring...I'm an American, this is NOT what I want my country to stand for. We must end this. We must. God...please...save Palestine 🇵🇸

🐲🐉🐲🐉🐲🐉🐉🐲🐉🐲🐉🐲🐉🐲🐉🐲

In Inuit mythology, Amarok (sometimes spelled Amaroq) is a great wolf—vast, solitary, intelligent—who walks the Arctic night as a force of correction rather than chaos.

Amarok does not hunt in packs. He hunts alone. And importantly, he does not hunt indiscriminately.

He hunts those who forget.

Not a Villain, but a Warning

In traditional stories, Amarok targets hunters who wander out unprepared, hunt recklessly, or take more than they need. Those who act with arrogance, isolation, or disrespect toward the land are the ones who draw his attention.

This makes Amarok unusual when compared to many mythic predators. He is not evil. He is not malicious. He does not delight in destruction.

He exists to restore balance.

By killing careless hunters, Amarok protects animal populations from overhunting. He reinforces an unspoken rule: survival requires humility, patience, and respect—for the land, for animals, and for one’s own limits.

Lately, it feels like truth itself has become negotiable.

Every issue seems to come with competing “realities,” each defended with absolute certainty. Facts are dismissed as bias. Feelings are elevated to proof. And disagreement is treated not as inquiry, but as threat. In that landscape, it’s easy to conclude that truth is now subjective.

But what’s changed isn’t truth. What’s changed is our shared agreement about how truth is determined.

Truth does not depend on popularity. A fact doesn’t become false because people disagree about it, nor does it become true because enough voices repeat it. History makes this painfully clear: there have always been moments when lies dominated the public narrative—sometimes for decades—without becoming reality.

The Rise of Subjective Authority

In recent years, subjective experience has taken center stage. This shift began with good intentions: acknowledging pain, honoring lived experience, and correcting systems that ignored or silenced people.

But something went sideways.

Experience explains how something feels, not necessarily what caused it or what it means universally. Pain is real. Interpretation can still be wrong. When feelings are treated as unquestionable authority, truth loses its anchor.

Subjectivity matters—but it cannot replace evidence, context, or reasoning.