Voice of the Winds

This deer wasn’t meant for me…

In the spring of 2026 my life hit absolute bottom, a bout of skin cancer, to finding out my head injury was causing major health issues. Some of the people in my life that I thought I could count on departed my side. My heart was broken. My journey and path took a turn that was unexpected. My soul will never be the same. It was the beginning of my next chapter that was difficult to accept… this is the story of the deer that became symbolic of the life I left on the mountain. The deer became the foundation of the mountain I have become, stoic, hardened, and able to withstand the storms I am faced with. Although I walk alone now, “Next Chapter”, gave me roots that I can never replace.

Sending my love to those who are still there for me, and sitting at my table. I am grateful for you.

-Mino Giiwose - Good Hunting

You are exactly where you need to be. Not above the mountain. Not below it. Not somewhere beyond the horizon where you imagine life will finally make sense. You are here.

Every season arrives in its own time. Nothing is too soon, and nothing is too late. The mountain does not rush its summit, and the river does not question the path carved for it through stone. This is the quiet wisdom of Amor Fati - the love of fate: learning not merely to accept the road before you, but to recognize that even the difficult parts belong to the journey.

We are not separate from the world around us. We are part of something far greater, a living, interconnected cosmos. To constantly fight against reality is to fight against the very ground that holds us.

Look to the mountains. They do not resist winter. They wear the snow. They do not resent the storm. They endure it. They do not demand that spring arrive early. They wait, and eventually, the snow melts.

Perhaps you are standing in a winter of your own, a season of loss, uncertainty, loneliness, or becoming. Or perhaps you are experiencing a summer, a season of abundance, love, achievement, and light. Do not cling too tightly to either. Winter is not a failure of summer. Summer is not a permanent reward. Each has its place upon the mountain. The trees lose their leaves so they can endure the cold. The rivers swell with the melting snow. The valleys darken before the morning reaches them again. Everything moves according to a rhythm larger than our understanding.

So stop asking life to be somewhere other than where it is. Stand where you are. Take in the view, even when the clouds are heavy. Trust the trail, even when you cannot see the summit. What feels like a detour may be shaping your strength; what feels like an ending may be preparing the ground for what comes next.

You do not need to love every storm. But you can learn to love the mountain for making you strong enough to climb through it. You are not late. You are not lost. You are in your season. Keep walking. The mountain is unfolding beneath your feet exactly as it should.