First of all, I’m a delight. Second, when you’re creative world relies on energy, you must get creative during a power outage.
“There is no such thing as a weird human being, It’s just that some people require more understanding than others.” ― Tom Robbins
As mentioned above, the power went out today. This means that my time in my wee little office was cut short, and I (*gasp*) had to rely on the old fashioned tools our ancestors once used. No, not stone tablets, but close enough — just a book filled with paper and a writing instrument.
During this time of living like the early settlers of the state where I live, or any early settlers, it seemed the perfect time to run a few errands. This trip somehow made me arrive at a craft/art store, which is shocking. Not only that, I also stopped by my local (free) public library to pick up a book on creative techniques. Really kicking in old school today, y’all.
The thing about my life is this…it’s always interesting. You might think I get a break from the tomfoolery when sleeping, but you would be wrong. Not only are my dreams in full technicolor, with smells and such, they are a beautiful marriage between the art of Dali, Picasso, Van Gogh, Georgia O’Keefe, Remedios Varo, and Hilma af Klint. Or like all the Sid and Marty Krofft shows for kids in the 1970s. Today was just that kind of day, where I was so in the zone, had things flowing from my fingertips, and then there was a very loud boom that turned the lights off.
In yesterday’s post I dared — DARED — to speak of the future. Sometimes when my words/voice say, “Hey, guess what’s coming up,” it’s like the Universe says, “Are you sure? Are you sure about that?” This might also be how the Muses and the Fates work together to move me in another direction. Honestly, that was a great idea because at the moment the power went out I was ruminating on the large amounts of AI written articles here and on other platforms. Like I get it, truly I do, but also…stop getting AI to write for other AI to read. Give the machines a break. Plus, the more you saturate the freeways of digital information with its own information, that clogs it up for the rest of us. Also, I think we are all tired of content creation influencer jargon dressed up to be non-performative creativity. See there, I was about to get a ramble going, but thought better of it.
Honestly, I kind of needed a day away from my desk, and to wander the world a bit. Apparently that wild and wonderful unknowable force called The Universe knew exactly what was needed.
Second, my inner child is beyond thrilled. Third, it’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
“So long as you do no harm to another, change your opinion once in a while. Contradict yourself without being embarrassed. This is your right. It doesn’t matter what others think -because that’s what they will think, in any case.” ― Paulo Coelho
Let me just start with this…
I used to be internet famous. Not one of my cats, or something silly being caught on camera, but that kind of “fame” that was cool back in the last then (1998-2005). Those of us who were Elder Influencers ran, so the new generation of influencers could walk. Back then it was kind of cool when someone would yell your name across a busy public area. It was like getting recognized for your craft and the creativity of your soul.
You’ll get to see some of those writings, and drift back into the last century with me. Then we will come into the early 2000s.
While I could type a ton of things, the Moon is full, it’s Friday, Beltane, the beginning of May, and more. Plus, I got some really nice yarn yesterday that I’m excited to work with.
Here’s the link to see the premier episode of The KimboBurly Tales.
First of all, I’m a delight. Second, opinions are like, well…you know. Third, it’s a full Moon tomorrow.
Okay y’all, I just couldn’t resist. Yeah, it’s cheesy, and yeah, we’ve all seen it, but also – it’s gonna be May tomorrow, so…
Have you ever talked to a wall long enough that the sound of your voice finally trickled back to your own ears? Yeah, me too. While I was off finishing some projects, taking care of my family, and figuring out what I wanted to do in the second half of life (y’all the 50s are a wild ride, and every minute has been hard, but also amazing).
During that time I was given some helpful advice from folks that didn’t know what was going on, along with folks that had once been helpful but failed to honor my boundaries. It was a weird time for sure. While some of the things were really hurtful, it was important to hear their words. No matter where my life is, or how my world is spinning, when people want to give me unsolicited advice, my goal is to seek the meaning behind their words.
But also…
Stepping back to care for your family isn’t a professional failure, it is a demonstration of my personal integrity. In a world of chasing the coin, those who preach about alignment while neglecting their actual human responsibilities sort of squicks me out. Now I’m not saying that we can all just sit around and wait for pennies from heaven, more like when you take deep hits to your resources so that members of your family (especially your offspring) can get the care they need, it’s not being wishy-washy…it’s how it should be. Also, it’s sad that the loud voices make people feel bad about doing what needs to be done.
The choice to prioritize the people who need you most is a massive credential, showing those who matter that you are grounded in reality. And hopefully it shows that the work you do is not just a lifestyle brand you can turn on and off. With that, anyone who sees that as wishy-washy were looking for a performance, not a person.
One of the most difficult parts of taking my own version of Inanna’s descent, is something a lot of the mystics don’t speak of when talking about things like a dark night of the soul. You might think it’s the little aftershocks of breakthrough about breakdown, but it is more about remembering who you are. Add into that a dash of knowing that what made you take a fearless inventory of yourself was allowing others to make you feel unworthy.
Tomorrow I’ll be launching (look at me using that jargon…) The KimboBurly Tales alongside my work with Mom’s Strange Magic. It will have blips and bloops, and times when my rambles take over, but the thing is, it doesn’t have to be perfect…it just has to be real.
It’s a cool and crisp Spring day, and there are errands that need my attention. Remember that you are a beautiful beam of light shining in a world full of people looking for your resplendent self.
First of all, I’m a delight. Second, you are made of stardust. Third, sometimes things are what they are.
“There is a cure for all evil between the two mill-wheels of Ballylee.” — Credited to Biddy Early by W.B. Yeats, The Celtic Twilight
The weather today is giving me a lot of nostalgia sprinkled with introspective thoughts. Also, my usual time for writing and working with folks happens long before the Sun peeks over the trees in my back yard, which wasn’t on the “things for Kim to do today” list from the Universe after having my morning cup of coffee.
When moments like these happen, it feels like that song from the Beatles where the lyrics talk about fixing the hole where the rain gets in, to stop his mind from wondering (where it will go….). Well, more honestly, it feels like a moment of transition that needs to be honored. The dissonance that happens with experiences like this comes from the siren song of the Greek chorus – that often starts off with the words, “You should be…”
Before I get a good ramble going, let me introduce what’s on my topic list for today. And if you are good at seeing how my words work, you might get a small giggle at what I’m about to disclose.
Transition.
Yep, that’s today’s prompt, and I had it all outlined on how important it is to remember that when life shifts one way, when you really hoped it was going to move in the direction you wanted, it’s that space of uncertainty that lets us know an answer is right around the corner.
Then my plan was to talk about how midwives deal with this all the time. Same with herbalists. And, according to the photo above, so does my back porch. You see, at the transition of the stairs to the porch, there is a guard named Gia. Sadly, she has passed into her next life, but we all feel her paw pat our legs as we pass through the gateway. Her “toll,” so to speak, was a pat upon the head, saying, “What a good kitty,” then waiting for her paw to tap you into her space.
Further back in the photo you can see Sparta, who has also passed into another life. This dear sweet boy was once internet famous for being the “I lick the butter” cat. Sometimes his photo will pop up in memes, or on a cat page, which delights my whole family. Before I get lost in cat talk, Sparta’s job was to make sure that whoever Gia let onto the porch was worthy of going into the door. He was very good at his job, and a few humans have exclaimed, “Your cat gave me a disapproving look.”
Now, as you can tell, my words are wandering into places not exactly like transition, but maybe I’m just setting the scene; getting the tone of the next ramble into something pleasing for all y’all. You won’t know until to read on.
One of the parts of my life that had to change in the quiet times was what I call the dance of the finger pointer. Now there are days where my little digits wanna waggle all over the place in a way that says, “But see…how can those people do what they do and…” This isn’t because of jealousy, or judgmental pondering, but that there is this absolutely HUGE push to not honor the lessons in the sticky parts of life. Maybe that’s not exactly the best way to describe it, because there’s more to it.
It’s like the old saying from Paracelsus about how the dose makes the poison, often said as the poison is sometimes the medicine. An example of this would be digitalis being used in medication to help with heart issues. Something a well trained herbalist would know, especially how that plant could transition someone from getting help to needing a pine box.
But see, here I am again…rambling and going into place that my brain loves to discuss instead of getting to the point of my prompt. Could it be that I’m trying to create a response in you, the reader, that mimics the feeling of someone who is right in the middle of trying to figure it out? Or that moment when a scratch is healing, and the scab becomes so itchy that it feels like your whole body will vibrate into another dimension? Or, could it be what happens on the day you finally feel better from a week long cold, but then sneeze three times in a row?
Discomfort is not always failure. Now I’m not saying that as something like, “pain is fear leaving the body,” because just turn that noise off right now. That stuff makes my eyes twitch. Also, I’m not going to move into platitudes about how seeds need chaos to germinate, or how butterflies are pretty much caterpillar “soup” before emerging. All really great examples, of course, but this is about the moment where you don’t know what comes next.
All these years of helping others didn’t prepare me for my own shifting moments. When things got a little wonky, when I didn’t have good boundaries, and when pushing through didn’t seem like an option, all I wanted to do was just give up. Well, I mean I did that, too, but also that wasn’t exactly my best work. Plus, you know that whole trope of physician heal thyself and all (side note: this is absolutely not something to say when a person is walking through health issues – just a little FYI for you there). The ongoing walk of feeling stuck in a place that wasn’t changing felt worse than whatever I was waiting on to happen. Much like you might be feeling here, wishing that I would get to the point (if even you’ve made it this far), I held on for just a little bit longer to see what would happen.
Well, it’s kind of like this beautiful piece of artwork in the early stages of healing. You’ll see the next phase in a moment, but if you’ve ever had a tattoo you know that it’s not always the process that is the hardest, but waiting for it to heal. Oh, then the itching – dear gods, the itching. Honestly, that’s the hardest part of getting a tattoo – but I digress. (extra side note: those dashes are mine, and I’m tired of trying to hid my love of them so that folks don’t think my writing is AI – like com on)
When it was obvious that I needed to sit with discomfort until it ended, it was the best (and hardest) decision for me. Every time something rubbed me the wrong, or I felt insecure and second-guessed myself, it just got me closer to the finish line. No self-help guru, no content creation care, just me, myself, and the hope of things finally making a transition.
Which, by the way, is what midwives, herbalists, and folks that sit on porches know…sometimes it takes as long as it takes. And, often, the real lesson is in the spaces in between.
Yep, that’s a hand holding lily of the valley – this is a tattoo I got in 2024 that reminds me that sometimes the dose is the poison, the poison is the medicine, and the transition is the teacher.
Also, it’s podcast day, if’n’y’all wanna take a listen.
First of all, I’m a delight. Second, I contain multitudes. Third, growing older is not for sissies.
“If someone isn’t what others want them to be, the others become angry. Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
In the land of cognitive dissonance, one should not be allowed anything that is combustible, nor should anyone be given kindling that looks like self-sabotage.
Not that I know anything about that crippling grasp of imposter syndrome, or how to badly manage things when my cup was overflowing to the point of flooding everything around me. Along with that, I had been very well trained in my youth to believe that everyone else had my best interest at heart. Plot twist – they don’t.
This isn’t because they are inherently wrong, or bad, but more like they got wonky data themselves. It is really difficult to get past input that looks like one thing, but is really something else. Sometimes you fall into the trap of feeling as if someone is there to help you, but really just want to talk about their degrees or themselves beyond the normal flow of healthy conversation. As one of my kids always says to me, in their youthful wisdom – “Sometimes it just be that way.”
Now, if you’ve already gathered all the things needed to set yourself (metaphorically) ablaze, making sure there are no bridges to you, don’t forget to leave breadcrumbs for yourself after you get done burning brightly as the Sun. These are the things you will use to find your way back to that behavior after forgetting what you learned in the crucible of change. Not that I would have any personal experience in this (insert pondering face emojis here).
All joking aside, I’m not exactly sure why it took me so long to work with myself the way I work with my clients. You know, all for thee, but not for me, but with an Uno reverse, a raccoon selling you trinkets, and some crows that clearly have some ideas about things. But then one day, and as much as I love a good “this [insert amount of time] ago,” I couldn’t pinpoint when it was for all the delicious cookies in the world. Just one morning my feet hit the floor, my body walked into the kitchen for coffee, and I just sat down at my desk and wrote out a life plan for the next 20 years. And not general things, but deep thoughts about all the mistakes I made, all the boundaries that needed work, and how grateful I was for a life partner/spouse/bestest friend who supported every wild hair (dream) I thought was mine to work with.
Then I got quiet. Real quiet, like silent running quiet, moving my submarine up some shallow waters to rest among the inlets of peaceful calmness.
Oh, and I threw away a ton of stuff, and I’m about to do it again here in a few weeks. If you know anything about semiotics and how the brain leaves us little messages with items we have around us, then the stacks of books, creative tools I was never going to use, and the sheer amount of doodads…good Lord, the absolute weight of the tchotchkes everywhere… Honestly it was like I was picking up these things in hopes that others would see them and see me as a person that enjoys such things. Brains are funny that way, and after years of studying why they do what they do to help people in their daily lives, it just seemed like a good time to dive into mine after the umpteenth reinvention of myself.
Oh, wait, did I just say that out loud? Well, I mean I *do* contain multitudes. And do I contradict myself? Oh, absolutely! LOL!!
This is why healing isn’t linear. Also, when working with clients I share these processes with them. That’s one thing I find lacking in the modern conventional wellness word — the admitting that just because one is degreed, has learned the dogma from the halls of higher education, or whatever language is used to show expertise in their craft, doesn’t mean they know it all (or are above making mistakes). But that is a ramble for another day…
Starting May 1st, 2026, in addition to all the wonderful stuff at Mom’s Strange Magic, the first episode of The KimboBurly Tales will go live on YouTube. Of course it will be posted here, too, so you can just watch it in a post, but if you wanna help a human out, after it launches you can subscribe for updates. There will be guest appearances, side quests with Mr. The Mister, and lots of whimsy. Also, if you’ve ever wanted to know all the details of my life, then you will be happy to know that no stones will be left unturned.
While I could continue to write things, there are crochet projects that need my attention, and I think one of the cats wants my office chair.
Thanks for being here, and thanks for being you!
Until next time – much love and good energies your way, KEU
First of all, I’m a delight. Second, everything I’m about to tell you is true.
Happy Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, Lunar New Year, Annular Solar Eclipse, and the start of Ramadan. Who knew that the Moon could be such a fun way to celebrate being human?
Today is also the eve of bring Mom’s Strange Magic back to the public. If you wanna see what that’s all about, just click the friendly link here. Now you might be wondering what I’m going to do with this space, or how this site will move forward into the future. It’s a fair question given the fact my time online has been quite chaotic over the past – what…like 4 years? Well guess no more, as I’m about to give you some insights.
Mom’s Strange Magic is something that came about after my dear sweet partner, aka Mr. The Mister, told another family member that the work I do is…you guess it, “Just mom’s strange magic.” The name stuck, but honestly my life wasn’t in the place to really get things going, but nevertheless I tossed my wacky wall walker of a life to the ceiling and hoped it would stick.
It didn’t. But that’s okay.
While chatting with one of the adult kids (which feels so very odd to say because in my eyes they are always gonna be wee babes) about all that we’ve experienced as a family, I told them that there are some days where it would be nice to go back and do things differently. In this calm voice they said, “Well, things are the best they’ve ever been, so I don’t think we should change anything.”
Y’all…
I mean, just y’all…that is some deep wisdom right there – especially from a human in their 20s. While they are absolutely correct in that sentiment, I wasn’t always able to see my life from that perspective. For longer than anyone should have to endure, some of my inner dialogue would start off with, “Well, you did that wrong…” that is, until I flipped it around to, “Well, you did your best at the time, so move forward with a little more knowledge instead of worry.”
Getting to this point wasn’t easy, and it came with baggage that wasn’t mine to carry. At the core was this little dab of people pleasing mixed with some feelings of insecurity and a dash of being lost. In order to find my way back it took a lot of work on my boundaries, engaging in a bit of “silent running,” aka being very still and very quiet, calling all the broken pieces of self back “home,” and a lot of support from my wee little tribe of folks whose core is our little homestead. There was also a lot of saying the word no, standing up for myself, and no longer feeding energy to people/places/things that were never going to reciprocate.
Oh, and the deepest, widest, and most intense dark night of the soul…with months little earthquakes as everything shifted back into place. Maybe more like filling the cracks of self in with some alchemical gold.
This shift in my life is a little scary, and my “voice” feels a little shaky while writing. For me this is a good sign, as all the other times I let myself be shoved into boxes that weren’t for me, I felt like it was the right place to be. Sort of like that whole “Oh, if this is how people want me to be, then this means people will support my time here.” There’s a lot of stuff to unpack with all of that, which might come out here…or not. It just depends on what words want to flow through my fingers when I sit in front of the empty space in the editor.
Before I sign off to start the day, I want to explain why Mom’s Strange Magic is hosted on Patreon. First, dear sweet Mr. The Mister has reached the age (and beyond) where he can retire, and continues to work to help the family stay grounded in resources. It was our “plan” (used loosely as the Universe had its own plans) for me to be back to my work 2 years ago. But there was COVID, unexpected illnesses, life shifts, and more – which is, as my kiddo said, exactly as it was supposed to be. While Patreon is a pay-to-read site, most of the content there will be free – not all, but most. Also, I’m not tossing all my energy out into the internet, and am closing down other sites such as Bluesky, Substack, Medium et al. I will be on YouTube and Meta platforms, as well as this space on WordPress. If folks want to find me, they will, and that means I won’t have to keep giving my time away.
Now…I know that WP has a whole subscribe thing here, but honestly I’ve got to stick with what works best for me. With that….if you enjoy what I do, consider supporting me on Ko-fi.
And not it’s time to finish some chores, work on some projects, and prepare for tomorrow’s grand re-opening of Mom’s Strange Magic!
Kim Upton 