I'm back in action!

With the glitch resolved, I'm introducing lines - my version of poems. In this newsletter, I share a few that have been grounding me lately. Also -- a request for feedback from you!

Hello Beloved human,

This substack of mine glitched and luckily, it has now been resolved. So, I am finally back – hopefully for good.

I am short on wisdom this evening and none of the essays I’ve written feel complete, so in their stead I thought I’d share some lines with you - lines I keep reading over and over to comfort myself amidst some pretty big life changes that I am up against (more on that soon). 

For those unfamiliar, lines are something I created in my twenties. They are my naked truths – words I speak onto a page. More often than not, my lines are written in a mere moment or two. The idea is that whatever I express – whatever words I use and sentiments I share – are safe and accepted in any and all forms. 

I created lines in the middle of taking a writing course at Middlebury. Every page I wrote for that class was covered in red ink. It didn’t matter how hard I tried. At the end, on the last of the marked up pages, there was always a coy remark about how I “could *really* use some help with my grammar.”

I've known since I was a kid that grammar is not my strength. I mean, I could not write a complex sentence until fourth grade so I was no stranger to my weaknesses in that area. But self-expression — and my words — were something I refused to give up. So, I invented lines where there is no right way or wrong way to write them — where grammar is illegal — and where the only rule is that whatever comes out of my mouth is forever and always good enough.

Of course, because I am me, I wrote lines about what lines even are. So, this evening, we’ll start there before I share a few that have kept me anchored amidst the stormy seas of my mind and mood as of late.

lines:

words

as they come

off the tip of the tongue, 

with,

well,

just a tad bit of editing

Lines hold a special place in my being. They were all I wrote in the darker times and all I could muster in the mad times too. Recently, as I weather some upcoming changes that I am not yet allowed to speak of, the importance of lines has returned. My need to express them is almost uncontrollable. I scribble them all day long — on post-its, on my hand, on the back of my CVS receipt, and in the notes app in the middle of yoga class. 

Lines’ simplicity is comforting and in their acceptance of all that I express, I seemingly have to get them out — on a page — in the moment — before they disappear. So, before this current batch of lines land in some obscure drawer, are washed away in a shower, or get buried in the depths of my Google drive, here are a few that have felt particularly grounding recently. Here’s hoping they offer even a fraction of the respite to you that they have afforded me.

With love and endless appreciation for you accepting me, in my messy chaos, exactly as I am.

Kindly,

Kate

Forgiving you is not for you.

Forgiving you is for me.

your people will find you

and you

will find them

you just have to be brave enough to walk out the door

and maybe I did fail

and maybe that’s okay too

that’s just it

I’m not trying to make a point

I’m not seeking attention

I’m simply

living

I’m simply

existing

in the truth 

that mental illness 

is normal

purely

plainly 

normal 

indeed

if only I had dared

to continue to be too much

if only I had dared 

to tell you

that the only way you got me

was in my wild

there is a tired to it

a reckoning too

and it never stops

that’s the part everyone seems to forget

it never ever stops

and until that’s okay –

I can’t be either

do not fear, my darling

or maybe, do

fear is you growing

I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing

and I just wish

for one moment

for one tiny moment

you’d admit

you don’t either

and I failed

and the sun still rose

and I still began again

From here on out, I will be sending my newsletters on Friday. If you care to, I’d love to hear in the comment section what format of the many newsletters that I have sent serve you most. 

Are there subjects/time periods you want me to write more about? Questions you want answered? Perspectives you’d like to hear? Does it matter if my essays are sequential or not? 

In a time when everyone seems to be writing a newsletter, I just want to make sure I am honoring your time, so please don’t hold back in offering any and all feedback. Hearing from you — whatever you share — is always a gift.