in the midst of the mess

finding fertile ground in the landscape of uncertainty

welcome moon gazer, flower admirer, skinny dipper, public crier, tree hugger, shower singer, notes app poetry writer, early riser, coffee drinker, tea sipper, living room dancer, sunset lover, and everyone in between. this is sacred somethings, musings on sensitivity, embodiment, grief, and the sacred in every day.

i’m glad you’re here.

---

hiiii sweeties!

A few days ago, I stuffed my tote bag full of the essentials (my journal, my favorite pen, a joint, some watercolors) and drove thirty minutes north to my favorite swimming hole—a beautiful and buzzing park on so-called Lake Washington. The gentle caress of the waves on the shore soothed my spirit. The sun’s afternoon glow settled on my shoulders. In tender company with one of my soulmates (love u ang), I sat in contemplative surrender.

“I feel so clueless,” I said to her. “And things feel so messy.” She nodded in agreement and soon we were both crying. The lake held us.

if you look closely, you can see Mt. Tahoma in a beautiful alpenglow.

In my most recent post, I mentioned the white-knuckled grasp I previously held on my career. As I’ve released that grasp, I’ve started to notice how many other things I’ve been white knuckling. My identities. My relationships. My expectations of myself. I’m learning how liberating it feels to unclench, to let life flow through my hands like water. I do not have the answers. But maybe I don’t need to.

on what we do not know:

In this moment in history, I feel a palpable friction at the personal, interpersonal, community, national, and global level. There is a broad charged-ness, a high voltage pulse that has often left me feeling like the wobbly kneed baby deer that graze on my mother’s garden.

I don’t know how I’m going to make ends meet. I don’t know who will be the next president of the US. I don’t know when there will be an end to the horrifying project of colonialism. I don’t know when children will sleep soundly at night free from the threat of starvation or bombs. I don’t know when or if my broken relationships will mend. I don’t know how long I have with loved ones. I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know what our collective future holds.

There is so much I do not know, and I used to feel doomed by that reality. But this season of cluelessness is showing me that there is fertile ground, even here in the landscape of uncertainty that I once thought to be desolate.

ayandastood

wrote about this very subject a few months back in her essay, the wisdom of feeling lost. She graciously sheds light on the vastness and opportunities that lie within our uncertainty.

“To change the world, to usher in a new paradigm of Being rooted in love, liberation, community, pleasure, mutual care, and abundance for all — we need new answers.

And that means we need new questions. 

We quite literally NEED to be lost.

When we are lost, and we are willing to acknowledge it, we are at our most potent as a collective. What we are witnessing with the global mobilization of support for Palestinian lives — once inconceivable given the power of Zionist propaganda fueled by Israel and its allies — is an example of what happens when we are willing to acknowledge our collective bewilderment — and turn to DIFFERENT and more aligned voices for ANSWERS.”

Isn’t that a grounding sentiment? That actually we need to be lost in order to usher in new paradigms? It’s been deeply liberating for me to recognize this truth, and to subsequently release myself from the unrealistic and deeply western expectation that I have all the answers. My purpose in this life is not to know everything, but to move with embodied care and intention, to ask generative questions of myself and the world around me, to root into love.

affirmations for uncertainty

finding beauty in the mess:

Even as a child I had ridiculously high expectations of myself. Tasks had to be finished and tied up with a bow before I could have pleasure or rest. I would do all my chores before going outside to play. Or finish all my homework before watching an episode of my favorite show. The relationship I had with myself was incredibly performance based. That pattern followed me all the way through college and sometimes arises in my subconscious even today. I grieve for the baby Kenz who thought she was only worthy of pleasure and rest when she had her shit together, so to speak. And I am working on graciously rewriting those scripts for present Kenz, who absolutely does not have her shit together, but is finding beauty and pleasure anyway.

In her essay, Don’t postpone joy, Lisa Olivera recently wrote the following commitment that I want to echo as a prayer for myself too.

“I remain committed to planting hope and joy and love in the places pain grows. I remain committed to unlearning the individualistic, scarcity-filled narratives I was fed. I remain committed to feeling it all as a way of accessing true connection. I remain committed to seeing others through the eyes of love, even when I feel my heart trying to close the curtains on their humanity. I remain committed amid my mistakes and missteps.”

There is beauty here, amidst mess and mistakes and missteps. Beauty in the evening sky bathing my block in an amber hue. Pleasure in giggles shared in a chorus between my sweet friends and I. Joy in the jump into the cool embrace of the lake. There is wisdom, there is sacredness, even here in the chaos. We must not have the answers before experiencing the fullness of our joy.

there is colorfulness in chaos

what’s grounding me lately:

Daily walks. Water, always the water. Finding creative ways to display art in my home on a budget. Summer fruit. Creating art for the sake of creating, not for the outcome. Long voice memos between my friends and I. My queerness as a worldview, not just an orientation. The flowers in my neighborhood—dahlias, sweet peas, the last of the roses. Dancing with my shadow. Crying when tears come. This conversation between

Hala Alyan

and adriennemareebrown.

some questions i’m asking / journal prompts:

I leave you with some questions I’ve been reflecting on. I would love to hear your own thoughts/feelings/responses in the comments <3

• What is this moment asking of me?

• Where can I lean in?

• How can I relinquish control?

• Where can I embrace fluidity?

• What could grow from the fertile ground of my uncertainty?

As always, thank you for your presence,

Kenz

---

If you feel led to support me financially during this season of unemployment, you can buy me a coffee or a book here <3 I dream of a world beyond capitalism where finances do not rule our lives, but in the meantime, a girl has bills to pay. While I never expect financial support from my readers, I do deeply appreciate community support and generosity. From the bottom of my softie heart, thank you!