Honeycomb and homecoming
A poem as I process some news and my favorite experiment of all
Maybe I’m not a haunted house after all Maybe I’m not room after room of damaged darkness—of locked heartbreak and suffering. Maybe Instead I’m honeycomb Sweetness— Pocketed in hexagonal sanctuaries Kindness— Built by years of hard work Strength— Fostered by the fortitude of our many shared walls And hope— Yes, hope Carried in unwavering belief that one day we would no longer be alone Yes, maybe I am not a haunted house after all Maybe I am honeycomb And maybe it’s finally time to return to my flowers— To the places I’ve been To the people I’ve loved And above all, To the truth of my collective being— That I am honeycomb I turned sorrow into sweetness, pain into kindness suffering into strength and isolation into hope Yes, I survived because I am honeycomb. I survived because we danced in the flowers and made honey from heartbreak in storm after storm after storm.
Hello Beautiful Human,
As most of you know, I’ve spent most of my life trying — searching— questing after me — after missing time, missing memories and missing parts of myself. I can’t explain it other than to say that almost every day I’ve woken up on this earth I have done so confused — unmoored — and entirely lost at sea desperately trying to find my way back. Now, back to where? I do not know.
But this week, I learned something in therapy. It offered me a different way to think about myself and this constant conundrum I face. It offered the idea that maybe I’ve never actually been lost at all. Maybe, instead, I’ve just been swimming in many different seas.
I’m not ready to share more about this and honestly, I don’t know if I will ever be ready to publicly share more about this. All I know is that I want to say this:
Whatever sea you are swimming through — or however many — I don’t presume to get it and from me and mine, I send love.
Since that new piece of information resulted in its own nerd out that I am not ready to share, I offer you my favorite self reclamation tool – dance! – for this week's experiment.
Dance has always been a grounding force in my life. It is a thing I can turn to no matter the weather of my mind or being and somehow, it always helps.
I have been dancing all day as I process the new information and right now, it feels like the only thing keeping me earthside. So, without further ado, I invite you to join me.
This week’s experiment – DANCE
Yup. Put on a song and dance. As you do, please remember: There is no such thing as dancing incorrectly. There is only dancing and not dancing. So put on that favorite song of yours and join me – sway, skip, hop, and shuffle. Honor the rhythm of you and exactly what you need right now as you move.
If you want some musical inspiration, here are some of my go-to’s when I need the music to do the activation for me:
Spice Girls — Wannabe (had to in honor of my eighth grade sporty spice costume lol)
This week’s prompt
Did you dare to dance? Were you brave enough to turn that favorite song on and wiggle your hips just a little? If you were not feeling up to it, that is wholly okay and if you’re willing, share about that choice to not dance. Did you feel too silly? Too self conscious? What were you worried about? If you did dance, were you able to lose yourself in it? Or were you worried about having the right moves? Remember there is no wrong way to dance. Can you extrapolate what that statement brings up?
SAVE THE DATE! Healing Out Loud — Sunday, March 23, 2025 at 1 pm EST
Our next Healing Out Loud gathering is next weekend. This month, we will be doing a different format. We will spend the first 15 minutes doing the month’s experiments together. Yup. We are going to breathe, shake and dance together. Thereafter, we will take a few minutes to write about the experience and then share our thoughts as a group. I have no idea how it’s going to go but I’m excited. Hope to see you there!
Alrighty, off to walk the pups again. Apparently — I mean look at her face hahahha — one trip up to see morning friendship was not enough.
I hope you tread lightly on yourself this weekend and I look forward to seeing you here again next Saturday.
With love.
Kindly,
Kate
Awe I love this. And you are a honeycomb…and I love those songs…and dancing. You’re amazing!
Wish I could still write poetry. Love it Kate! Keep swimming!!!