Stuck spacebar

Good morning, friends!

My space bar is broken and it's too hard to type long things. Before I take it to get fixed I thought...what the heck? I'll write another poem and embrace the brokenness.

I'm considering a major overhaul to this letter, and I don't hate the idea of writing more poetry in it. I think the world is a constant reminder that we need art and we need people to make it in whatever way feels tenable, rather than burdensome. I often strive to construct narrative arcs in tidy manners, and make sense of the non-sensical here. However, more often than not, that is just not possible.

Let this one be a reminder to you that you are doing your very best in this moment and that there are larger forces at play than we may often be reminded to notice. Today, please try a little tenderness.

Love,
Kelly

Stuck space bar

Hit send
And it’s done
Sign the paper,
Mail the note,
Say the thing that must be said
Period
New sentence
Ihitthespacebar
Butit was stickythis time.
I see the chart:
North node in Pisces,
is a path toward the mystical
But as nature directs
It is a play on polarities
Comingfrom the detailedVirgo
I imagine pastlives
as an accountant
or as an auditor
or as a secretary with a typewriter
or as a very bossyant
the kind who is quite particular about
stayingin line.
Long before the big transit
the Pluto conjunct Moon that beckoned toward the desert,
both times I quit the safe and tidyjobs
I flew away to my Neptune line
To dream of future lives
To practice them
How did I know todo this?
Like a bird with a compass in its DNA?
Would you believe an astrologer?
What about an astrocartographer?
A Tarot reader?
A therapist?
A life coach?
A healer?
A shaman?
What about a massage therapist with enough stories to fill seven novels?
What abouta yogateacher?
Would you believe a song?
Would you believe a dream?
Wouldyou believe a poem?
How about thebiologists who track bird migratory patterns?
Would you believe the stories someone tellsyou about your life?
One thing I won’t believe is
the bumper sticker in the parking lot of the Sprouts on Speedway
It says, “Too many people, not enough nature”
As though this person never sang a song that must be sung
Or flown away
Or basked in the sun
Or arisen to brew coffee like a hummingbird to nectar
Or marched the ants along with a clipboard in its DNA
When I once again said the thingthat must be said
And then I hit the spacebar
(Andit stuck)
I spenta weekdoing taxes
And making appointments
And filing paperwork
And doing this andthat and in orderly fashions
Feeling parts slipfurther and further out of mynature
I also wandered the desert,
arising earlyto make poems and water plants and dance,
weeping over the world in some moments,
practicing warrior postures to the rhythm of Hermanos Gutiérrez
cracking my heart open to Queen
Their strumming and crooning is my gravity,
the force of mynature.
A bird needs a nest
and it was nice to settle
And tend to old parts and hear their stories
How does one come to know their futurelife
While being so tenderwith their past?

Tunes 🎶

I'm currently leading a delightful group in my Home/Body movement series. While I don't typically do this, I'm going to extend to you our playlist for the heart chakra this week as I think you'll enjoy it. 💚