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.
09.06
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
experiencing
moving
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.
09.06
this has been a forest fire
transforming every layer, every ring
into ash. dust.
the heat
discomfort
pain
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.
communities
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.
16.06
soon
your daily rhythms
will feel like a dream
like a life far away — as it will be.
this
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.
19.05
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
alone
and when my heart is full
and mended
it will beat deeper than ever
covered in their fingerprints.
— whānau/family
