The Sunlight at the Center

The Sunlight at the Center

I didn’t make it past Chapter 1 at first. 

The way Kate Fagan writes Annie and Cass and Cate’s voice—it grabbed me.

It was that first page and how it ends with:

I caught the sickness of wanting to eat the world. 

And I knew. I knew that I would love this book despite 

any perceived downfalls. 

Because at one point in life, we all felt the need to eat the world.

To rage against the machine. 

To be human in our most truest sense. 

And that’s what we do right? Consume. Inhale. Become. 

We are not alone in this world, but the arrogance pushes us on. 

We invent our own invention only to plan our own demise. 

We are gods of the godless. Glorifying sacrifice after sacrifice.

And not in a cannibalistic way. This isn’t Yellowjackets or Lord of the Flies.

It’s mental. 

A game some of us love to play, moving chess piece after chess piece.

Slander and backstabbing is a favorite past, present, and future.

It’s the eating each other that gets me. 

Some don’t even realize they do it. 

We may be inventing our own invention, but the eating remains. 

Like the ouroboros, we continue in a never-ending cycle of power and harm.

But when does it end? How does it stop?

And maybe it does take some introspection. Some meditation.

Less performance. Less me and more community. 

But not in a tribal way. 

Instead it takes a wrench and jabbing it into the gears. 

It takes cutting off my own tail, smacking it on the table, 

and declaring: ENOUGH!

Enough of the eating and of the stabbing and of the slander. 

Enough of the harm. 

We must move forward, 

forward, 

forward. 

Because you see, there is a path in the woods.

And it may be covered in brambles

and it may take a long time to clear. 

But I do see the sun shining at the end. 

I do see the joy.

And that’s what I choose. 

Despite the eating and the clawing and the devouring. 

I choose authenticity. I choose honesty. 

I choose to heal. 

xx. Rae Iolene 

25 April 2026