Shiva
Shiva, covered in ashes to remind us of the transience of material existence, has opened his third eye upon the world. It is the time of Shiva the Destroyer.
It’s a free-for-all out there. The familiar world is unraveling, and the gods are laughing at mankind’s presumption of the permanence of laws, institutions, traditions, ideas. It’s the Age of Trump, baby—get it while you can. The Seven Deadly Sins aren’t deadly, you can cheat, lie, steal, betray your friends, torture children, bite the heads off ducks. Don’t miss out, go ahead and indulge yourself in real human nature—the gods aren’t looking.
They know that what drives all this delicious mayhem is a deep fear of change, and they laugh at that too. They know that change is the inevitable force, and it works through useful idiots as well as saints. From their vantage point they’ve watched the same show immemorially—this saga of ego-drunk bipeds struggling with each other, with chaos, dark, cold, and with the knowledge of the brevity of their flicker of life on this pitiless globe. And, equally, the gods have admired the battles with chaos the bipeds have won, and the fragile urge in a few to rise like bound angels from the muck of human nature into some other, suspected destiny.
It is for the love of all, but especially those few, that Shiva destroys. Or phrased another way, creates. That in his aloofness lies fertility; in his wrath, benevolence. The serpent around his neck reflects mastery over fear. The fear that inspires the drive to maintain the old is what makes Vishnu step aside for Shiva. The old is death.
The destruction of Shiva is opportunity. Opportunity to restore the balance of masculine and feminine—not rigidly man and woman, but the two aspects of human nature, shared by all. Shiva’s union with Shakti: that bond of the divine masculine with the divine feminine, the source of life itself.
The destruction of Shiva is not an invitation to swing back to something that has already been. What has been is what necessitated the destruction. It is not the doomed attempt of yin to defeat its yang. Yin and yang are complementary. If you want to banish the part of the population that is not like you, where exactly do you expect them to go? And who really wants to live in a neighborhood of Stephen Millers? Or the shrill self-righteous? The destruction of Shiva makes way for the creation of something new. A recombination of what survives the fire—when we have disinfected the desecrated halls of power, and scraped off their glittering cave art.
In our world of militant wokeness and Nick Fuentes, the masculine and feminine fear each other. Each tries to impose its moral code on the other—subjugate the other. An unstable state, which cries for a restoration of balance. That is, an ascendancy of love over fear. Masculine being harmonizing with the feminine drive to become.
Destruction has its thrills—it is self-indulgent and easy. The real work is what follows, and is difficult. It is there, and not on the tabloid shenanigans of our unhealthy world, that we should direct our focus.
E pluribus unum.
February 15, 2026