when the empty space in your heart no longer feels lacking, but feels like space that you fill up with the parts of you that you love.

i processed emotion to help heal through dance + yoga, and listened to this playlist.


when i first touched the soil here
they asked,
“how do you feel so much?
so deeply? why?”

i asked,
“why not?”

feeling is why i’m here.
it’s my superpower.
my tool for connection
being moved.

and the breaking, the shattering
the pain, the rawness
of this season
has all just been
a sending back
to myself.

take how you’re feeling
out of the stories with him
and understand it all
as you are. as you want to be.

remind yourself
it all happened
is happening.
as it should be.
sink into the now.


this has been a forest fire
transforming every layer, every ring 
into ash. dust.

the heat
enough for me to want to run

but also enough to remind me
that trees are stable
at their core 
they are present

and if or when
they do burn down
they are admired for their wisdom
and resilience.
come together
to replant them.

let the fire take what it needs to.
stay stable and present
and let it strip you bare.

you are never truly alone.
even when you’re aching
even when you’re burning.


your daily rhythms
will feel like a dream 
like a life far away — as it will be.
will be a different kind
of heartache.

when the distance fills your lungs
with water
don’t forget that feeling
is your highest power.
even when it leads to 
the breaking, the shattering
the rawness
of this season.
especially then.

be here
with this ache. 
know it happened
is happening
as it should be

and trust
that it has 
and always will be
about you. 
it has
and always will be 
a sending back
to yourself.


i speak a lot of the cracks,
of holding space for them
and letting the light shine through

and not enough of the people and the place
that through it all — 
the fear of being needy
and wanting to be taken care of 
the moments of resisting the grief 
or of fully feeling it 
and wanting to hide 
the worry that pulls me out of the present —

have been the constant lesson that
heart maintenance 
can happen
in the slow moments.
dancing to folk music in the kitchen with the pup 
movie nights with the crackling fire drinking tea 
eating dinner holding space for each other 
regardless of our days spent holding space
for others.
heart maintenance can happen 
in the moments that show you
that you are loving and being loved
in ways that months ago
you didn’t think you could.

despite what your fear tells you 
we aren’t wired 
to fill the cracks 
and when my heart is full
and mended
it will beat deeper than ever 
covered in their fingerprints.
— whānau/family