love – Katie Kearns

Baby steps

A white cat sleeping on a bed spread with pastel boxes of color.

Discomforts started setting in by around day three. Sensations which I had long ago adapted to and learned to manage subconsciously were now very consciously noticed new sensations. I felt really overstimulated and mentally exhausted. And cranky and impatient.

Reflections and intentions: Being in community

The sun is setting and reflecting on a lake. The water is frozen near the beach, which is in the foreground. The water in the middle of the lake is open water. There are rocks in the foreground, and hills with trees in the background.

I am entering into this new calendar year with more self-compassionate approaches to reflection and intention setting. What did I learn about myself for this year? What did I do for myself this year? What values do I continue to uphold and want to focus on for next year?

I want to be a turtle grandma

A translucent glass turtle on a white background. The legs elevate the turtle off the surface and the head is raised. The shell of the turtle is mosaic glass - blue, green, yellow tiles.

The turtle grandmas are shepherds, protectors, and keepers of space for the nestlings. They do pastoral work, watching over the nests and being present before, during, and after the turtles hatch. They facilitate the flow of nature.

My dislocated toes: A thorough update

Cross legs, the left on top of the right. The toenails are painted purple. The legs are on a clay-colored sheet and blue fleece blanket. On the right foot (which is on the left-hand side of the image), the second and third toes are crooked.

I’m inviting friends to help me tend to my fears about pain, loneliness, and urgent need as best I can. I get to have new experiences of care from and with my friends. I get to expand my self-knowledge about what feels good to me. I get to learn more about the people in my community and what they like to do.

I am the snapping turtle

A loggerhead sea turtle on the beach heading toward the water

That late-summer evening in 2019, in cutting a snapping turtle free from lake weeds, I started the process of setting myself free from codependency and internalized oppressive mindsets.

I am my grandmothers’ dreams

A white woman with brown, shoulder-length hair. She's wearing an orange shirt. Her body faces to the left, she's looking at the camera. On her left shoulder is a colorful peacock tattoo.

I didn’t remember that I had this dream until I opened my email at the breakfast table this morning. I opened an email from pinterest of things I might like. Among the recommended pins was a picture of glass-bead earrings shaped like peacock feathers.

The dream rushed right back into my consciousness and I let out a deep sob. The river of tears seemed to emerge from nowhere and everywhere.

Drawn to the light

a woman in shorts and t-shirt standing in front of a short stone wall. There's a canyon behind her and colorful trees. There's a book bag at her feet.

You’re not wrong, surviving and thriving is challenging right now. And also, I want to share some beautiful things in the midst of all that.

Smoke and mirrors

A blue, green, and yellow flame with burned branches around it

First, I want readers to notice how we currently serve as smoky mirrors to each other in many of our communities, from Don Manuel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements. Second, I want to offer a strategy for being a truer mirror to people in your communities, from Ora North’s I Don’t Want to Be an Empath Anymore.

Surrender

A road map of Illinois. There is a red flag below Champaign-Urbana.

Despite the chaos and uncertainty of my health at that moment 20 years ago, I allowed my colleague to attune to me. I allowed his protection of space around me to create our own little bubble world that was perfectly quiet, still, and safe.

This moment of letting go was completely contrary to my default way of walking through the world, where I _always_ masking myself, attuning to others, and acting as their caregiver.

Magic items

I have a childhood memory of owning a “Barbie suitcase.” It was a small case that could hold two Barbies and clothes, shoes, and accessories. The Barbie suitcase held the objects that mattered to me at that age and that I tended carefully. Its magic feels like tenderness, serenity, innocence, play, care, and reverence.