cradling heartbreak, changing shape
After the Fire
You ever think you could cry so hard
that there'd be nothing left in you, like
how the wind shakes a tree in a storm
until every part of it is run through with
wind? I live in the low parts now, most
days a little hazy with fever and waiting
for the water to stop shivering out of the
body. Funny thing about grief, its hold
is so bright and determined like a flame,
like something almost worth living for.
— Ada Limón
Lately, this Ada Limón poem has been resonant for me as I cradle myself through deep heartbreak(s) — personal and collective — and, simultaneously, nurture a big personal change. I am in a crucible of sorts and, without a doubt, changing shape.
Important things:
Update on my availability. My books are closed in November and potentially, in December so that I can tend to a big personal change. More on this again soon. You can still book for October.
Ways to support those affected by Hurricane Helene. Category 4 Hurricane Helene made landfall just a few days ago, devastating parts of the Southeast U.S., especially in western parts of North Carolina. Many are without basic resources like clean water, power, and gas. Governmental support is nonexistent. I have been in touch with friends in Asheville, and am sharing their Venmo handles below. Know that these friends are actively involved in autonomous, on-the-ground efforts to distribute resources, and that the funds you send go directly in their hands:
@Selin-Nurgun (personal friend)
@savoysavoy (personal friend)
@nourlotfy (vetted by friends)
@pansycollective (vetted by friends)
@catherine-siravantha (vetted by friends)
@Yousef-N (vetted by friends)
@frooting-body-studio (vetted by friends)
@indigofaraway (vetted by friend)
Photo by Alexander Ruiz
Comb Cutters, Miami-based beekeepers and educators, invited me to participate last weekend in Growing Rhythms — a collective learning space and all-day event centered around the many ways we can nourish one another in South Florida. In the face of climate change, food insecurity, health disparities, and a housing crisis, their work grounds us in the power of skill-sharing and community relationships.
I served as one of their resident healing arts practitioners and shared sliding-scale, seated sessions of ablon (also known as hilot) — an indigenous Philippine form of bodywork that I learned over the summer. Ablon offers greater harmony and relief to the body through healing touch, with the acknowledgement that the body is always in relationship with earth, spirit, and our human and non-human kin. This was my first time publicly sharing ablon. I will also share more about my journey as a student-practitioner of this traditional modality in the future. I'm grateful for this capture of me mid-session and under Comb Cutters' mulberry tree by photographer Alexander Ruiz.
With fierce care,
Kristen
PS — I could be the log in your fire / the moon in your eye.
~
