by Charmaine Marasigan Words are powerful—just like food. What I speak over myself, my body and mind take in. It shapes how I move through the world. And for me, this truth has carried me through one of the most challenging and meaningful journeys of my life: becoming a nurse. Ever since I was a child, I knew I wanted to be a nurse. It wasn’t just a dream—it felt like a calling. But as life often does, it tested me. Every time I tried to step into the world of nursing, something came up, like the universe was asking, “How badly do you want this?” The first time I…

by Aloendra Dzur Robert Eggers’ The Northman has been widely acclaimed as the most historically accurate portrayal of the Viking Age. Loosely based on the legend of Amleth, as recorded by Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus, the film delves into themes of vengeance, fate, and divine right. One of the most compelling aspects of The Northman is the depiction of initiation rites and sacral kingship, legitimizing royal rule by heritage. The Norns, feminine spirits described as casting the lots of human fate, weave Amleth’s fate, guiding him toward his destiny as a favored warrior of Odin. Initiation into sacral kingship legitimizes Amleth’s rule by divine right. This initiation places Amleth in Odin’s…

By Mara Lorch   The Monkey Wrench Gang:   Dill grows scraggily; its leaves fluff out like a tender, flattened thread, and the hollow stems echo out a dull, juicy “crack” when broken off the plant during harvest. This fresh, herbal scent that filled the August air around me became indelibly linked to Edward Abbey’s iconic novel. Listened to as an audiobook, his comic, anarchic story of environmentalism in a changing desert played out into the warm air, mixing with the “pops” of the aromatic dill breaking from the stem, wafting into the raven’s whooshing air. Scenes from the book (destruction of dam- and road-building machinery, billboards blazing in flame…

By Martin Bargo There were countless attractions to choose from, but you claimed you had no time to fool around. All work and no joy might have made you the dullest boy. Shortly after, a near-death experience changed your way of seeing the world; your priorities changed, and you learned you had no time to waste. When you finally set out to have some fun, the amusement park was closed; its once-bright lights were now casting long, fading shadows.

By Manarah Brown Carefully shaped cobblestone streets and a sunset kissing the bright blue waterfront left my crew and me speechless on those first few nights. A sweet tune lingered in the air, flowing through the walkways and carrying the vast, striking history of what was—and still is—a sought-after land. We feasted on many new foods and watched merchants sell fine, authentic Greek pieces to bubbly tourists. Amid a lively city, the still perfection of such moments leaves a person’s mind forever changed and undeniably craving more. I’m still incredibly grateful for Athens for being more than what I imagined it would be.

By Martin Bargo It was 1986, and he did not fit any definition of a “good boy,” but since he was the firstborn child on both sides of the family, Santa still brought him a present. And what a present! The flaming, exciting, and futuristic Atari 2600. The console came with a one-button joystick and a cartridge. He connected everything and flipped the power switch. The old-school TV, which back then was just school, lit up like pixelated fireworks, displaying an outstanding number of colors: 128.             In the game, a tiny character jumped between chunks of ice, and every jump added a brick to an igloo in the background.…

By Cadence Cedars Beneath the sky where softness reigns,Embrace the call as daylight wanes.Come forth, unmasked, in nature’s fold,Share with the wind the tales untold.Root deep within the earth’s embrace,Merge with the land, find your place.Let Mother Nature’s senses reel,In her bosom, let your spirit heal.For in the whispers of the breeze,Lies the melody that brings us ease.Live in rhythm with her pure,In her symphony, we endure.

By Margaret Worthington DarknessWaking up in February feels heavy. Time seems like an illusion when you open youreyes to complete darkness after eight hours of sleep. My brain attempts to rationalize thatperhaps it is not time to start the day. Maybe it is 5AM and I still have three hours of blissfulsleep ahead of me. From December to March, my initiation to the day is checking the time andfinding in disbelief that despite the perpetual darkness outside, it is 8 AM. In December andJanuary, I approach this phenomenon with scientific curiosity. How much time is being lostevery day? How does this affect the wildlife in this area? Does my internal…

By Cadence Cedars As I awaken from a night of camping in the Yukon wilderness, a chill in the air promptsme to burrow deeper into my cozy sleeping bag. Relishing the warmth for just a few moremoments, I listen to the soft rustling of the trees and the gentle caress of the wind against thefabric of the tent. With a reluctant sigh, I reach for my watch, its dim light illuminating the earlyhour: 05:51 AM. Glancing over at Alisson, still deep in slumber, I gather the resolve to leave thecomfort of my warm cocoon. Slowly, I unzip the sleeping bag and slip out, greeted by crispmorning air that nips at…