Devil in the details
Devils Lake near the Dells is dope.
My family recently took a camping trip to Wisconsin's Devil's Lake State Park, and it was a banger. The park boasts bluffs, boulders, balanced rock formations, and the eponymous bass-stocked, wake-free Devils Lake. Over two days we stomped the heart of the park and still found time for a leisurely swim.
The only glitch was when my Maps app renamed the lake “Spirit Lake,” as if some Bible-thumping AI briefly hijacked my phone before reverting to “Devils Lake.” Inexplicable religious-right AI takeovers notwithstanding, the place felt like the Mini Rocky Mountains of the Midwest.
Standing on the north shore, gazing down at what looked like a crater caved in between towering bluffs on all sides, I told my wife it was the fourth Devil-themed geological feature we’d seen on our travels that was dope. The others: Devils Tower in Wyoming, Devils Kitchen in Sedona, and Devils Kettle in Minnesota’s Judge C.R. Magney State Park.
She said it made her wonder if the Devil is really the bad guy. Suddenly it hit me: he’s not. Quite the opposite—he’s the ultimate good guy.
I thought of all the people who tried to tempt me over the years and reeked of evil. Looking back, I can only conclude they were possessed by the devil—or so far gone, they may as well have been. Yet each time I managed to resist temptation, I now feel on a soul level that those devils experienced something akin to joy: the kind of joy that comes from knowing you’ve done your duty to the best of your ability; the kind that comes from being part of something bigger than yourself.
When someone does an unsound thing, it tells you all you need to know about where their head is at: the Devil’s got ‘em. And that very possession, as unwelcome as it might seem, can become an opportunity for growth—for them and for you.
The Devil takes many forms and faces, and forces us to evolve the quality of our consciousness and transcend our old selves. That’s the Devil’s job, and it’s arguably the most important one in nature.
Without stress, there’s no expansion, only stagnation. We’re either getting better or getting worse.
It’s the Devil who keeps us on our toes, pushing us to grow.
As I told my kids with a devilish grin as they jogged the final stretch of our six‑mile, uphill‑both‑ways hike in ninety‑degree heat and ninety percent humidity: “That’s the spirit!”
