#259: Goo-ification

Do you know what I miss about my life before Winnie?

How often I used to disappear.

And I’m not just talking about the times when I’d wade through a mudslide to enter a “hazardous: closed this week” foreign national park and disappear in a dramatic way (Kate Lasky, I miss you).

I’m talking about the daily disappearance that happened during my writing time. During my meditations and walks and shamanic sessions and yoga classes and breathwork and psychedelic encounters and…

The times when the part of me that chatters disappears, and the part of me that is silent and whole and expansive emerges.

Wordless oneness, some call it.

And I had a reason that I was starting this musing this way—a point I was inching my way towards.

But I’ve forgotten what it was.

Because for the few moments that it took me to type out these sentences,

My brain shut off.

And the Keely that chatters disappeared.

To be replaced by the Keely that dissolves into the infinite, glorious, gooey, warm, yummy state from whence we come.

Maybe? I didn’t happen to incarnate into a vessel that remembers “the before,” but I have read on Instagram that I can ask Winnie what it’s like when she starts talking—and that she’ll probably remember until she’s three-ish.

What a wonderfully exciting new chapter.

Maybe, with a little intentionality,

A little devotion,

A touch of essentialism,

I’ll find ways to disappear in healthy, life-affirming, meaning-making, soul-expanding ways—

While also being deeply (deeply, deeply, deeply) present for this little baobao. And her baba, who happens to be my beloved and the best person I could possibly be journeying through this lifetime with.

Random musing, eh? But boy, am I grinning.

Thanks, life.

Xo,
Your friend who started her morning with a walk, and it seems like that was a good idea.