hillbilly mystic – Kim Upton

shine brightly like the Sun

black and white photo of a battery operated candle on a kitchen countertop

“If everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light.
― Rumi

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, everything I’m about to tell you is true.
Third, this is a pic heavy post.
Lastly – there will be typos. As I’ve said before, this proves that AI wasn’t a part of this post.

This is a photo of a statue located at Bernheim Forest. At the base it says, “Let there be light” in English and Hebrew. A lot of folks don’t realize that the man who helped bring one of the most beautiful places in Kentucky to the world was Jewish. As you walk up to the overlook, there is a plaque that reads: “May light, the symbol of life and truth, illumine the paths of good citizenship and reason, and tolerance and fairness guide our relationship with our fellow men.” While I have quite a few photos of this area, this is one of my favorites. It’s like you gotta go through a bit of wildness to find light – and to really see how it (you/the world/everything) shines you gotta see both sides of life. If you wanna go a little deeper, this is absolutely giving a lot energy that says you are loved, and so are they.

The opening image, the wee candle amidst a see of kitchen counter items, is something Mr. The Mister and I purchased at Walmart over a year ago. On Hanukkah we added the batteries, flipped the switch, and let it be. It also happened to be Christmas – so we thought you know two birds are better than one. Always good to cover your bases. I mean it *was* just Yule, and other Northern Hemisphere celebrations for the return of the Sun, so we were for sure for sure (like for sure) giving all the belief/faith systems some love.

Sort of makes me think of this song by Jamiroquai…
“And I’m thinkin’ what a mess we’re in
Hard to know where to begin
If I could slip the sickly ties that earthly man has made
And now every mother can choose the colour
Of her child, that’s not nature’s way
Well, that’s what they said yesterday
There’s nothin’ left to do but pray
I think it’s time I found a new religion
Whoa, it’s so insane to synthesize another strain
There’s something in these futures that we have to be told”

Here’s where I’m gonna pull one of my world famous shifts, then pivots, because that’s how I do.

Some of you know the origin story of Mom’s Strange Magic – I’ve dabbled in sharing parts of it here and there, so there is no need to share it again. The takeaway I’d like to give you here is that it stems from what I call hillbilly mysticism, of which I would call myself a hillbilly mystic. Before the language police come after me, please know that my life makes me very qualified to use both of those words together. Grew up rural poor, studied faith systems, and believe that we come from the Earth and to Her we will return. Pretty soon you’ll hear more about these things, but today is not that day. All you need to know is that my work can easily be summed up as Mom’s strange magic. Also, I’m absolutely prepared for anyone who wants to tell me that magic is “evil” or sinful because they don’t understand the history of the word. Mom’s unusual theurgy just doesn’t have the same marketing *zing*…but anyway…

You see, my life has been a persistent walk between dichotomies. Or, as the Buddhists might say, the Universe seeks to place me in the Middle Way all the time. Yes…all…the…time. It’s like everything is a shad of grey between light and dark. My Anam Cara is my Shadow – a divine soul friend reminding me that the best way to live is to shine my weird little light for folks all of the time. And again, yes…all…the…time…

For a long time I did that without good boundaries. Let me just say that existing that way will make you lose your mind, forget your soul, and wear down your body. That’s not dramatic word wanderings, y’all – it’s just straight facts. It took me 54 years to figure out how to foster healthy borders around my life, but now that they exist they are metaphorically made of diamonds, titanium, and particles gifted to me from the Universe.

Lately the fam has been talking about how going through the very worst thing you can think of, and making it to the other side, gives you some deep perspective with a healthy dash of being prepared. Or, as the cheesy maxims on line say, “You have survived all of the bad days you’ve experienced so far.” (side note: as a spiritual director and wellness advocate, those kinds of phrases make me skin crawl a little…but you know – that’s a topic for another day)

So back to the returning of the light, the Sun, holy days, and my walk as a hillbilly mystic…

Here in a moment I’m gonna share a poem from my chap book, Blue Is The Color Of My Voice. (link takes you to Amazon, which will make some of you scream in horror, and I get it – really I do – but trying to get a publisher these days doesn’t happen unless you have 40 bajillion followers on all the “social” media platforms) You can get your own copy, and I’ll make a whopping 16 cents! Huzzah!

The above piece of art came with a used book I recently purchase (Living Buddha, Living Christ), and it was marking a page that had a heading that read: “Seeing the way, taking the path.” After a lot of reverse image searching, the only thing I could figure out about this design was that – 1) it was painted onto sycamore bark; 2) it is sometimes seen as a symbol for both the saint, and the goddess, Brigit/Brigid. Well now that’s just a fine how-do-you-do, because She is absolutely one of my faves. Not only that, She is seen as the patroness of healing, song, and art – like come on y’all…that’s some unusual theurgy right there. Years ago when I received a used copy of the Carmina Gadelica and there was one lone piece of dried Shepherd’s Purse – sometimes seen as a “sign” from Brigit that Spring is coming. The readings were 53, 54, and 55 – named Soul peace, The new moon, and Christmas hail.

Those Celtic Christians, akin to the Desert Mother’s and Father’s, knew about hillbilly mysticism. They lived in the spaces between the duality of nature and religion – seeing all of it as one body of the Divine. But this is only a mere light upon the surface of all the stuff in my noggin about such things. That means it is time to share my poem…

While writing this I’ve put a chicken in the crock pot, made some cinnamon rolls, messaged with some folks, talked to my husband, made breakfast for folks, and done a load of laundry. As you have read along you might be thinking, “Wow, this person really just has a lot of wild thoughts they put out into the world.” What’s beautiful about this is that yes…that’s exactly how it is. My life is full of being alive, and after years of trying to get the Greek chorus to stop telling me how to be, I decided that what was important for me was to show up as I am. If you and I were talking over a cup of tea/coffee, you would have my full attention. Over the past however-many-years I’ve had to keep one toe in a world that was not of my choosing…but one that had to be experienced. It’s gonna take me a little bit longer to figure out my way around this space (and online) until something settles. Plus, there are 54 years of stories all waiting their turn to be shared – making my thoughts, words, and ramblings look like that one drawer that we all have in our house.

Now let’s put all these things into my version of a stone soup post…

All of us are particles of light. Oddly, this is something that doesn’t cause a schism in the worlds of science and spirituality. There are a lot of institutions that don’t want you to remember your inner shininess because it benefits them not only financially, but because it gives them numbers for their “causes.” In all the world’s beliefs and faith systems we are gently led to find that divine spark within us – to hear the still small voice that reminds us that we are a node in the web of life. It also tells us that what others think of us is none of our business while holding our hands together in a reminder that all of us are connected. When we share love with others, we share love with ourselves, too. I’ve not met anyone that has all the answers, nor has there been anyone to have all the questions. But if you take a moment to stand between two opposites, beaming like the Sun, it might make your world a little brighter. We only get one shot in this physical plane, with time being an enormous long river – we would all get a little more peace if we just stopped for a hot minute to not make everything about just us. One day we will stuff off this mortal coil, and the edicts of those pillars will no longer have a hold on us. Best any of us can do is just walk our path, as best we can, while not throwing rocks in the steps of others.

Time to make some bread, start another load of laundry, and ponder the return of the Sun’s light here in the Northern Hemisphere…while stopping to say a little prayer for those who are about to enter a time of longer darkness…

Much love,
~ KEU

* 27 days

Granny Women

“When the grandmothers speak, the Earth will be healed” – attributed to Hopi wisdom keepers (working on finding the verification)

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, everything I’m about to tell you is true.

Decided to make some prayer bread today. This is the art (or practice) of saying prayers over homemade bread as it rises. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, nor does it have to be particularly religious/spiritual. Just time with you and the Universe chatting over some sustenance.

Earlier this morning, while staring out the kitchen window, I got a hankering for some homemade healing soup…so I grabbed some lentils, onions, carrots, garlic, celery, and some spices. Threw all that in a pan and let it simmer for about 3 hours. Then – because I was on a roll – I whipped up a batch of nourishing herbal infusion (milk thistle and nettle tea) to steep for a bit.

Which brings me to the first image above…it’s a little graphic of the women back my maternal line. So think my mother’s mother’s mother’s mother’s mother…. Since I made that graphic I’ve found the death date for Rosanna, but just haven’t had the time to update the image. My goal in doing this was to find the path of my grandmothers aka Granny Women, as they walked through life with their faith, healing ways, and determination to make the best of what they had. Every new piece of information or snippet of historical document I find gives me a deeper perspective into my own life. It has also helped to have DNA/genetic info to see how nature and nurture worked together to bring me Earthside – or, as some traditions say, to bring our children Earthside.

Just had to share a photo of the snow from this morning. I may have put my boots on and danced a little jig in it before the Sun came over the tree line.

Thankfully I’m feeling much better today. My husband would call that my “strange magic,” or when he’s talking to our kids he calls it Mom’s Strange Magic (and yep, I own that url…and there’s a story there…or course). That “magic” was something that didn’t get passed down to me in a traditional way, as by the time I got here my grandmother and mother were far away from the wilderness and farm land of their grandmothers. While they didn’t have to brave the elements as our foremothers did, there were other hazards to deal with such as poverty, addiction, and being a little different – all while having a big brain and a creative soul. Well all that along with a bit of intuition and the dreams of their ancestors.

Anyhootie – what I was going to say above is that I’m grateful that something in my being nudged me into the life I have now. There are million things I could have been, and could have done – however none of them would be as beautifully rewarding as how things are now. And you know what – I am looking forward to sharing them with you. Just gotta finish up a few more projects, get my client calendar together…and gather a little more courage. You know…because if you’re gonna go big, you better do it all the way.

My last batch of bread is rising, and I’ve got some prayers to say over it. I hope all y’all are doing well and staying warm.

Much love,
~ KEU

* 29 days

Reclaiming (Advent 2025)

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, everything I’m about to tell you is true.

“It is important to expect nothing, to take every experience, including the negative ones, as merely steps on the path, and to proceed.” ― Ram Dass

Today is the second day of Advent. While I’m not particularly aligned with any faith system, this time of year has always held a special place in my heart. Maybe it’s the genetics, as my Ancestors would have been settling in for a long winter full of darkness and cold. Or, it could be that I was raised in what might be called a “liberal” Catholic Church. Whatever it is, my non-denominational hillbilly mystical self just loves the thought of spending 4 weeks in contemplation. Although, if you ask my spouse, he would tell you that I’m always pondering something.

Before I get my yarn going, let me take a moment to wish you Rabbit! Rabbit! This is a folk practice that seems to have originated with the British during the early 1900s. This tradition has travelled through other cultures, and has come to reside on the internet where well meaning people want to argue about it. My thought on all of it is this – I’m saying to you, with the utterance of “Rabbit!! Rabbit!!” (and sometimes it’s fun to add an extra Rabbit!! because that’s how the old stories go with things being in threes and all), that it’s my fondest hope that your month is full of grace and ease. With that out of the way, lemme get down to the nitty gritty…

For the past little bit I was stuck in a boot loop, returning to a place where I got stuck. When things like this happen with our technology, we keep turning it on/off again in hopes that this time something magically change. However, when anything just keeps circling round and round, nothing will stop it until it meets an equal, or opposite, force. Again, these are things we know about our physical world(s). When this happens to our emotions or spiritual path, we grasp at straws to find answers. “Why did [insert faith system top boss here] do this to me? What prayers/offerings/etc. do I need to offer to stop suffering like this? Why me? Let me tell everyone on the internet about this…” Okay, that last one was, shall I say…a wee bit snarky – not just to the global culture, but for myself as well. Because, you know, I have – in the past – had a little issue with wanting to tell all y’all about my life as if no one else was going through sh*t.

So…yeah…this loop stuff…

Sometimes humans get bad data from other humans. This info can give you a serious case of WTF, creating a non-stop thought train of, well, WTF. Somehow we have become a culture of I’m right, you’re wrong, with some dogmatic pronouncements that bear no resemblances to the original connection. That’s what happened to me, and it kept me in this never-ending black hole of brain rot for quite some time.

Honestly, I think it was more like the stories of how elephant trainers put the babies on chains so they couldn’t get away. After some time of this the tether would be removed, but the belief of being tied up was already put into long-term memory. They didn’t try to escape because they believe they were still unable to get away. It was a loop of better the enemy you know, than the enemy you don’t know. Well, that and a lot more in the realm of animal/human psychology, but the purposes of this post, let’s just say that sometimes the memories of being held back stick with us for a lot longer than we can ever imagine.

Now I don’t know how this happened, or when, but one day I metaphorically looked down and saw that my feet were no longer in the loop. At first this was pretty terrifying, because I’d become acclimated to this whole smokescreen handed to me by people that had received bad data. Kind of like when you are in a spiral of sadness, and others in that spiral gravitate towards you. That is…until you say, “Hey y’all, look, the sadness is gone…I’m feeling hopeful again.” What you hope to hear is, “Hey, that’s great, how can we support you in this journey,” but what often comes your way is, “Have you seen the news, here’s some angry social media, can any of us ever be happy…” and just – holy moly – a lot of b.s. crashing out at the fact that you found a light at the end of the tunnel.

What all those influencers and self-help authors often leave out is that when you step outside of the expectations of others, it can get very, very lonely. It also challenges your decisions to have better boundaries…going back to that whole “enemy you know” thing. So when you are out there flapping your arms like one of those blow-up creatures in front of a store, the vulnerable parts of yourself start whispering to you with little digs – not-so-great people are better than no people; who do you think you are; don’t you want some validation – like, y’all…no joke, those little negative talkers in our brain can do a number on your mental health.

But then, all of a sudden, after a very long time, you get comfortable with the fact that feeling better in your body, mind, spirit, is not worth stepping back into the circle/loop. When you get a text, message, or email with words clearly laid out to upset you, there is no sting and no reaction. You don’t feel defensive, or not heard, or even worried that you will be alone your whole life with everyone in the world hating you – it’s just like, “Yep, that’s weird, I’m not engaging with that crap anymore.” You become like a grey rock where everything is “that’s great,” or “wow – that must have been wild to experience.”

Now, there are moments when I really do want to step back into that loop because it was my whole life for much longer than I anticipated. Some of it is my doing, some of it is the doings of others, and yet another part is just life. There is absolutely no need to go around pointing out the specks of wood when I’ve got a whole dang forest in my back yard. You know, glass houses and all…

Black and white photo of a rocking chair in a garage.

“Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.” ― Madeleine L’Engle

Sometime I realized a bit ago was that every time I sat in front of a screen that connected me to a platform that was supposed to connect me to others, was that a little bit of me became performative. Along with that, I would get ranty about how this site, or that site, wasn’t behaving. All you gotta do is wander back a few posts, and you will see me yapping about how unfair it all is that no one was paying attention to me. Y’all, I ain’t above learning, and holy smokes did I learn some things recently. In some weird twist of life lessons, being deep in the darkness of my growth process, these small inner lights started forming…guiding me back to myself. Along the way I found pieces of my dreams lying on the side, so I gathered them into my little magic satchel. Further along tendrils of my creativity had become overgrown, so I nourished them back to fullness. As the light got brighter, there were human forms off in the distance – each one looked a lot like members of my wee little family. As I got closer I found that they had been there all along (and don’t say, “well duh,” because not everyone has supportive family, and for these beautiful humans to have patience with, and for, me…y’all…that’s some for real magic right there) – waiting for me to see the things they already knew.

And that’s when I knew that the loop no longer had me…

For today’s Advent thought, think of something that shines a bit of lit in parts of your life that need it.

Also, here’s the stack of what I’m reading right now. Just started “The Roots of Appalachian Christianity” by Elder John Sparks. Just a few chapters in, and I’ve already filled a few pages in my notebook. If you are interested in the faith systems of rural communities, especially in the Appalachian regions, this is a great read so far.

Much love to all y’all,
~ KEU

* 40 days

Happy Feast Day of St. Hildegard

First of all, I’m a delight. Second…
“We cannot live in a world interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a hope. Part of the terror is to take back our listening, to use our own voice, to see our own light.”
― Hildegard of Bingen

Just a little busy over here, but will be back soon with lots of stories! Until then, you can check out my long-form YouTube post.

Much love to all y’all!
~ KEU

my 3 dads

First of all I’m a delight. Second: “Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you.” (hat tip to Neil Young)

Photo of a man sitting next to a dog that is on a desk with items around it.

So let’s flash back to yesterday’s post where I mentioned my Dad’s side of the family. But just to be clear, I have 3 – a birth certificate Dad (BCD), a step-Dad (SD), and my bio Dad (BD). This is not an easy story to tell, and there is no way it will fit in one post.

I’m pretty sure there are rules for writers/creatives about not throwing in too many story arcs, but my life doesn’t work that way. Remember, I contain multitudes, which means nothing ever follows a straight line in my world.

My Bio Dad’s house has this certain smell, like a mix of sandalwood, Contra Costa County, and the fog that rolls off the bay in San Francisco. When that happens I just know my Bio Dad is near. He and I had so many talks about the after life, and joked that we would spend more time together after he passed than when he was alive.

I’ve got a busy day ahead, and this is absolutely a cliff hanger post, but I just felt this strong push to introduce a person in my life that inspires me to keep going; to be myself. He didn’t get that chance, and when he did life wasn’t so great for him because he had to fit in with the culture of his family, career, and faith system.

So here’s to you, Pres – thank you for all you did so that I can tell my (and also your) story.

28 days (later) – art & faith

First of all, I’m a delight. Second: “Sometimes you feel like trouble, sometimes you feel down.” (I Just Wanna See His Face, The Rolling Stones)

Well y’all, I’m in the home stretch for 31 consecutive days of posting my art and/or words online. The past few days were a little rough, as I let myself get caught up in things like stats, internet trolls, and comparison (which is the thief of joy). Those things are just the “ingredients” my brain needed to cook up a nice batch of creative block(s), but I made it through…and here I am to tell the tale.

The tagline for my blog/site/whatever is: “Everything I’m about to tell you is true.” While you might find the things I say hyperbolic, they all come with an authentic backstory. Or, as my kids say, I have the receipts (and witnesses).

If you are new here, I shared a huge story about this painting my family owns. I’ve only scratched the surface, and today I’d like to share a little bit more. So grab a cup of your favorite brew and get comfy…things are about to get a little weird.

But first, because I do love a dramatic segue, there are some things you should know: 1) all things mystical, metaphysical, spiritual, folklore, paranormal, and what not are extremely interesting to me; 2) all things comparative religion, faith systems, and beliefs in something greater than we can understand have drawn me in since I was a kid; 3) science is an important part of our world that often is placed as the opposite of spirituality-which is absolutely bizarre to me; 4) the farm where I lived as a child was just across a creek from a cemetery; 5) sometimes life is stranger than fiction.

photo of a sash that says truth Rebekah lodge no 5 and a journal from 1929

If you haven’t read about the painting, click the hyperlinked words to get caught up. But for those who enjoy the tl:dr aspect of things, my family owns a painting by an artist that makes the censor bots very unhappy. This person is still alive and very active in certain forums where one might discuss alternate theories about historical events. Upon my return from a few days away last October (2024), my husband pulls me into our garage, sans phones, and tells me the details.

After he was done, it was my turn. The image above is from my Maternal side. It appears that some of my family were, and still might be for all I know, part of an organization that will also get the censor bots to come along. The sash in the above photo is most likely from my Great Great Grandmother. The Journal is from my Great Grandmother, and is from an organization known to help certain mason groups keep their finances in order. If you want to know more, just Google up the Rebekahs.

Lots of folks have ancestors that have ties to all kinds of things (just wait until I get to my Dad’s side), and being part of a fraternal order of something is pretty common during a certain time in history.

While on that trip I made a detour to the cemetery where my Great Great Maternal line grandparents were buried. While there I asked the caretaker if he knew anything about the sash, so he checked the notes on file for my ancestors. He mumbled something, then said he would look it up for me online. Cool, I think, because how nice of him, right? He prints some things up, mumbles some more things, and then says, “What is this anyway, some kind of [word removed] level stuff?” He handed me the papers, told me where the plots were, and then asked me to leave. Fair enough, he’s a busy guy, so I tell him thanks, pay my respects, then head home.

When I tell my husband about this, he just looks at me…then we both start cackling because what are the chances that both of us found out some random piece of info that somehow is like different boats in the same ocean. That’s when we decided that we would find someone to buy the sash and the painting. It was now our quest to get these items into someone else’s hands.

But you see, there’s part of me that’s like a crow – but instead of shiny things it’s little crumbs of “Hmmm…wonder what where this will take me.” After some sleuthing, I found someone to answer my questions about the sash…except that all the records from that lodge were lost in a fire.

A fire…wait…I knew about that fire. There are some stories I’ve gathered about how this particular county was part of the growing illicit alcohol production for the state. What in the weird history was going on? But wait, there’s more. My Mother’s Grandfather was part of this particular state’s transportation department, and often travelled to another state for work. He may have been a Superintendent of Transportation on paper, but what he really did was what locals here call bootlegging. The rest…well you know…is literal history.

This seems like a good place to stop for today. But before signing off, let’s just take a look at the painting again, shall we?

painting of a unicorn with a magazine cover with JFK on the front

Much love,
~ KEU

This post was written with the help of friendly cats and typo fairies. Please excuse all grammar errors as flights of fancy. If you would like to help appease my editors, you can drop a few coins into my coffee jar. As previously mentioned, quite often, I’m coming back to this creative life after a long period away. If you’ve read this far, know that your time is greatly appreciated.

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify playlist)

21 days

First of all, I’m a delight. Second, “This is what you want, this is what you get.” – PIL

“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.”
― Amelia Earhart

There’s something very important I need to tell all y’all. Maybe it’s something you wanna read, or not – none of us knows how to feel when someone we barely know wants to share a vulnerable part of themselves.

First you get this feeling of having to decide. Is what this person is about to say gonna mess with your deeply seated beliefs, or will it be a moment of solidarity? Then there’s the training we’ve all received about what “real” “authenticity” looks like online. “Oh, this is just for the likes,” comes way too quickly to our frontal lobes when viewing media on our phones. It’s an emotional commitment to continue engaging after someone decides to share details about their life. After all, we are just human…

I have been terrified for the past 21 days during this time of consistent posting. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing…and I don’t really care to know. This is me finding my way back “home” after being really lost for 10 years. The Indigo Girls barely scratch the surface with the lyrics of going up mountains, and talking to “…Doctors of Philosophy.” You see I went to a lot more places, tried a lot more things, and learned way more than imagined about the nature of humanity. Some of these experiences were out of my control, with others being entirely my doing. As the cool kids say… No. Stone. Was. Left. Unturned.

Trust was an issue, as were boundaries. Doubt was a thing with teeth, waiting to remind me how weird I am. Honestly it felt like there were multiple timelines happening at once – this sort of weird quantum dance of uncertainty.

Nevertheless…I persisted. (pretty dramatic, ‘eh?)

It all could have been a mid-life crisis, or the thing that older women deal with that none of us are allowed to talk about. Compound that with the general state of life on Earth and a growing need for a mystical connection to my creativity, which created this sort of overwhelmingly self-absorbed need to finally figure out my path in life.

So, on August 1st of this year (2025), I decided to start posting on different platforms. Some of them I’ve never heard of, but the competing sites I joined had plenty of articles/posts on why my presence on the competitor’s site was a personal affront to all things good in the world. Perfect, sign me up – let me see what’s really going on here.

My report, so far, is that all the sites are driven to make money for themselves. Makes sense because it’s a business, and as a previous business owner, I, too, wanted to make money. At least 20% of the people that follow me are bots making AI, or humans pretending to be bots making AI. Another 20% just repost popular posts to get people to like the reposted post they posted. The 20% after that appear to be scammers. Either that or there really are a lot of doctors from other countries trying to come to a place where the wellness system is in a hot mess. That means around 60% of the people that follow me aren’t exactly who they claim to be.

Mixed in the remaining 40% are folks who are: 1) just trying to make it in this world; 2) a friend from high school that wants you to book a party from them; 3) a content creator; 4) trying to find sanctuary. Oh…but there’s this secret 5th thing…there is this beautiful oasis of actual people. You see their little kitchen, the piles of unfolded laundry on the couch, and hear real emotion in their voice.

Seeing those folks shine brightly like the Sun helped me be less insecure. They helped me see that we are all lost, and that we are all just trying to walk each other home. (hat tip to Ram Dass for that great line). None of us really know what we are doing, which is absolutely okay. The best you can do is just be kind. Love all, serve all. (another hat tip to Ram Dass) But most importantly, just be yourself. You know, shine that weird light so other weirdos can find you.

What started as a complicated journey of self-discovery ended as a revelation in being okay with who I am. This has been a huge lesson in courage. I’ve learned that the most powerful thing we can do in a world of algorithms and facades is to simply be ourselves. It is in our chaos, our doubts, and our quiet moments of humanity that we find a real connection.

But most importantly, our stories are important, and we should tell them. We are more than data, we are living entities taking the biggest trip ever. Our creativity is more than a niche – it contains multitudes.

Much love,
~ KEU

If you find value in my work, please consider dropping a few coins in my ko-fi cup. Thank you!

Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify – you can click the link to see the songs, but are not required to listen)
Currently reading: Be Here Now by Ram Dass