Editor’s note: It is my deep pleasure to reintroduce to our pages our colleague and friend, Alan U. Dalul. As Alan describes below, he was unable to write new material for The Wild Hunt for most of the past year, and we have missed him greatly. Welcome back, Alan!
I’ve been unable to send new material to TWH since November 7, 2026, because my employment authorization expired. I held my breath during those last weeks before the date came, somehow laser-focused my thoughts, so I could produce as much as I could before the legal system silenced me indefinitely. Trust me when I say that I’m as proud of how many columns I wrote as it was painful to see them getting published. “One less to go,” I thought, which I couldn’t advertise or share at all.
Some background for those unfamiliar with this ordeal: as an immigrant from Venezuela, I wasn’t allowed to generate any form of income without a work permit, especially because I was in the petitioning process. My spouse is a U.S.-born citizen, and we’ve been collecting so much evidence so I could get this done with. However, anything that could make the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services think I was working or looking to generate some sort of income could result in deportation. I don’t exaggerate when I say I had nightmares about this. More than once I woke up during the night with tears in my eyes.
A person holding up a sign that reads “Love Thy Neighbor – All of Them” [Chad Stembridge, Unsplash]
However, I try to take my experiences as a learning opportunity. This has been a traumatic experience, of course – and don’t just take my word for it. I’ve read many stories about families separated, people who died and barely survived the detention centers, and only one gave me some semblance of hope if I were to go through something like this. Because of this, I learned a few things as a Pagan and as a Witch:
Less is more, and can be even much more: My practice suffered due to the stress, the anxiety, the depression, the insomnia, the nightmares, and not being able to pay for therapy. I couldn’t focus most of the time, even with my medicine. What then? I lit two candles at night, one for the Divine/Absolute, and one for my blood ancestors. This one thing I was able to do (most nights) gave me enough hope to keep going.
Names can be limiting: I’ve described myself as a “theistic agnostic” for a while, and this time cemented the belief in me. When I stopped saying “my gods” and instead said “Divinity/Great Divine/Great Spirit,” something felt different in my prayers. I still use names for the divine, and I will keep using them as I see fit, but avoiding names felt so right when I felt just as hopeless. I recommend you try it at some point if you need it.
A new definition of prayer: For a long time, I believed that praying was only for asking things. After each milestone, after each step we accomplished, I felt more and more eager to express gratitude and appreciation to the spirits I work with (heaven help you if you say “please” and “thank you” to the Fae.)
Your body’s a temple; temples also crumble: There’s so much talk about how your body is sacred, your body is a temple, must respect your body… Well, temples also crumble. The walls crack, the lights die, the murals peel off, people leave all sorts of trash behind their visits, and so on. Sometimes, temples suffer: your body gets sick, and you cannot do much to attend to it. I’ve gained a lot of weight recently, my mental health is not the best, and those things might not change for a while. And that’s okay. Sometimes, all you can do is keep the temple standing so you can rebuild it later. Today, it stands. Tomorrow, we repair.
Became more mindful: Two years ago, I wrote about a certain FART (Feminism Appropriating Reactionary Transphobe), and after the backlash, I read, thought, and talked about it with many more people to know where I had been wrong. I wrote a post later on, and today I am even more critical about how I use my words, my energy, and my time. Turns out, when you’re a new father, your time (especially free time) becomes precious.
Reconnected with my roots: Sure, I looked back at my heritage, at the basics of Witchcraft, and what many people think about when it’s about roots. However, for me, this meant going back to Music Witchcraft, from Faun to Lady Gaga, Kerli, Lindsey Stirling, and Pop Music. Besides practicing as I could (read #1 and #4), my headphones reminded me again why they’re my favorite tool.
Alan’s candle [A.U. Dalul]
Diamonds are made under pressure, and bread also rises when you let it rest. I’ve learned both sayings are sides of the same coin. Both pressure and patience are challenges that come with their gains, all of which I have experienced since November. Once again, this doesn’t mean the experience was less traumatic (the week before writing this I had to go to a crisis center). But I am choosing to focus on what I’ve gained instead of letting insanity win.
What comes next? Hopefully a much better version of myself.
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