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quills of light


Hello.


I’ve been challenged to write more. I find discipline is one of my most lacking strengths. So, discipline towards something that brings healing and makes beauty feels like the best start.


At first, I think, ‘Wait what do I write about’?


But then I remember that to write is to let the energy flow. It is to ask my judgmental ego to take a break…to breathe. Because it is when I let go of my ego and let the energy flow; that is where the magic lives.


I was listening to Armchair Expert today on Spotify. For those who don’t listen, Armchair Expert is a podcast with Dax Shepard and Monica Padman. They interview humans and talk about being human. It started with celebrities, but now they interview experts in every field. But the two have a way of cutting straight to the humanity of a person within the interview. It is a balm for me to listen to because it is stories of humans and how they live.


I’m coming to see all of us as giant stories. We walk around and add sentences to each other’s biography. Trauma has made me question these sentences.

I have seen what harm someone’s “moment” can do to an entire chapter, if not book.


So what sentences am I adding to other’s lives?

It’s a weighty question; ask it of yourself....


 

If your first thought there had anything to do with shame….welcome to the dark side of the mind. But you probably already know how your mind resides there.


However, something I am learning is that shame should never be the first thought.

We are allowed to hold regrets as humans; we hold regrets because the entire act of being human is messy. There is no perfect way to walk within this complicated world.


NONETHELESS.

Regrets can come after an abundance of gratitude and light. Always welcome the light first.


So back to stories.


We have an influence on every person’s story we interact with. Perhaps it is the main character’s afterthought.

Perhaps their encounter with you changes the course of their lives. You NEVER know.

That is something that makes this flawed life beautiful. We not only can make our own lives beautiful, but we are also able to write sentences of light within others.


Parts of my soul’s story has been etched with intensely black ink of others’ shame, fingers, demons, and evil. However, I have been changing the essence of that tattoo. Day by day, I carve light into the worn scars. Sentence by sentence, others write love onto my tender soul. With the quill of my life, I will always choose to write light. I will fail because I am human; still, I will try.


 

Anyways, Armchair Expert.


This past episode, they had Molly Shannon on. She’s an excellent comedian and actress, but most of all, a beautiful soul. She has a book coming out soon that speaks in depth of her childhood trauma of losing her sister and mom at the age of four in a car crash she was in. She speaks of these vivid memories and how that trauma played/s out in her life.


Dax, Monica, and I were in awe of this women’s life and vulnerability. Molly then spoke about how when she was a young child, she created vivid imaginations to allow life to be beautiful even in the darkest moments.


I was in tears at this point because I vividly remember all versions of younger Kasey choosing to be lost within daydreams. Within the daydreams, my mind was safe. Within the daydreams, I could find refuge.


When handed darkness, I have always tried to find the light.

Shadows CANNOT exist without the light.

Writing is inscribed imagination. So, let’s escape into the light for a while, shall we?


 

Before I left the US, a friend of mine gave me a Creator Soul’s deck of cards. They speak of finding the light within yourself. They speak of using your soul to create. They’ve been a beautiful guide within my new and uncertain world. Today’s reading asked me to think about the elements and what magic I find within them. I chose to explore it as a writing exercise. I hope you take the two minutes to read on.


Be well friend.

Hold your quill with light.

Heal your soul with love.

Until next time.

-K



 


Water

Water is meditation. She is the swirling sinews of the mind. She flows across stone. She evaporates into air. She is powerful and rough. She is flowing love.


When I sit in mediation, she is the river of my mind. Thoughts flow out; rough, shallow, deep.

All is accepted within the river.


Water is healing balm. She is anointed over inflamed flesh and met with sighs of relief. She is frozen into solid to hold pain away.

She is icebergs.

She is life source drink.

She is Water.


May I learn to flow as she.


 

Earth

Ground me.

Hold me.

Take me into thine arms.

For it is there that I know your power.

It is there I know my power.

A sapling swaying in the wind,

Yet rooted to Source.


I am rough like you.

My inner body holds the ragged scars of trauma’s evolution.

So I am strong like you.

You were His first incarnation.

So you and I may ground together as creations of the Divine.


Hold me.

Root me.

Heal me.


 

Air

Shhhhhhh.

Shhhhhhhhhh.


The wind holds memories.

Sting. Whip. Lash.

The wind holds whispers.

Listen. Stillness. Whispers.


Air is breath of the first incarnation.

What does it say?

I’m listening.


 


Fire

Phoenix bird.

I see you fly.

I see you soar throughout the sky.


Phoenix bird.

I saw you fall.

I saw you plummet.

I heard you call.


‘Help me’

‘Help me’

'Help me'


Phoenix bird.

I watched you burn.

I watched the flames swallow you whole.

Phoenix bird, I watched you die.

I saw fire take its toll.


So.

Is it true Phoenix bird?

Is it true that fire heals?

For I have only known fire to feel.


To feel of slow death within the soul.

To feel of burning energy.

To feel like empty pain.


Phoenix bird.

Phoenix bird?

I see you buried within the ash.

I see your feathers moving within the hash.


Phoenix bird.

Phoenix Bird.

I feel you rise.

I feel you break free from the lies.


I feel your new wings penetrating.

I feel your new patterns percolating.


Phoenix Bird, you know the fire.

You have burned upon the pyre.


Phoenix Bird.

I love you.

The ashes are falling away.

Phoenix Bird.

You’re free now.

Your wings are here to stay.

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