changing shape

and what makes life colorful

hiiiii sweeties and substackers <3

I hope these words greet you warmly. I’m writing from the window of the neighborhood coffee shop I frequent. I like sitting where the spring sun can reach me. Whenever I order coffee here, I hope the barista will serve it in an olive green mug instead of their standard orange. It’s my favorite color and complements my journal and pen beautifully. I got green today.

drip with a splash of cream and my fav pen <3

on being seen:

My acupuncturist has a habit of graciously humbling me. She is an intuitive energy healer, and she sees right through every facade my ego tries to front. Once, after she had worked on my brick-like neck for a while, she commented,

“You’re storing your self doubt on the right side of your neck. That’s why it’s so tight.”

She closed the door and left me alone to pick my jaw up off the floor. I smile as I write this because of course, she was absolutely right. Now, when my right neck becomes particularly tense, I have learned to turn inward and tend gently to the places doubt is seeping in. I feel endlessly grateful for people in my life like my acupuncturist who see me as I am, where I am. It is a true gift to be witnessed like this—a gift that gives me courage to show up to my life more wholly.

At my last appointment, I relayed to my acupuncturist the highlight reel version of my life update. In the span of about six weeks, I quit one job and started another, signed a lease for a new apartment and began moving, set new boundaries with a few family members, and started volunteering with a new group.

Naturally, she posed a question so grandiose that I am writing a whole piece on it.

“How does it feel for your life to be changing shape so quickly?”

life feels a little like “Kiss” by Nata Sin lately.

Historically, change has been very difficult for me. I have a tendency to grasp tightly to what’s familiar. Lately, however, I am finding that I surprise myself with just how much I can hold. I can hold joy and I can hold rage. I can hold fear and I can hold confidence. I can hold grief and I can hold wonder. There is room. My heart is big enough.

As a child, I remember feeling like I was drowning in whatever emotion was present in a given moment. At times my feelings felt like islands I’d be permanently exiled to. All encompassing.

I no longer believe that feelings must be in opposition to each other, or that only one feeling can be present at once. Rather, I see feelings as threads in the tapestry of my spirit, each with a delicate and beautiful role to play. Like shades and hues they complement each other, painting my experience of this human state ever so colorfully.

Where I once felt an isolating stuckness, I feel an unfolding; a softening of my heart toward the vastness of expression. I contain multitudes. How beautiful a truth is that to sit with? How grounding, amidst so much change, to welcome my feelings in their fullness; not to shy away, but to greet them with reverence and gratefulness for the way they color my experience.

I contain multitudes.

I contain multitudes.

I contain multitudes.

the sky also contains multitudes! photo by kenzi.

speaking of colorfulness…

Who else cried under the aurora borealis last weekend? I still feel overwhelmed by the brilliance of these blooms. It has been a lifetime dream of mine to witness the northern lights dance across the horizon, but I never expected to see them under these particular circumstances.

Imagine this.

It’s 10:30 pm and you’ve just left a wonderful art show featuring a new favorite artist, Psychedelic Lens. You’re ignited by the creativity running through your veins and the laughter ringing from your belly when you get a phone call that the northern mf lights are supposed to be above your city in an hour. In your mini skirt and gogo boots, you hustle to meet your friends at Gasworks park, not expecting to see anything, but happy to give it a try. You grab the blanket you keep in your trunk and find a spot to get cozy. You decide your thong has got to go because it’s been a long night and who wants to stargaze in a thong? On one side of the park, a dj is playing an obscenely loud EDM set for nobody in particular. On another side, people are dancing with fire. “I’ve got to get out more,” you think to yourself as you grab a handful of popcorn and listen to your friends tell stories about bad dates. And then it’s happening. The sky is turning green, then pink, then red. Slower than you’d imagined, but even more stunning. You squeal with glee, half naked under the northern lights, feeling freer than ever.

a love note for your week:

Has anyone listened to the new Willow album yet? The whole thing was stunning, but this song felt especially resonant this week. I hope you’ll enjoy <3

thank you thank you thank you for your presence.

<3 kenzi