writing – Kim Upton

another rainy day

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, personal awakenings can really shift your life.

“When you are already in Detroit, you don’t have to take a bus to get there.”
– Ram Dass

When the Universe nudged me to “get back to my work,” having a deep existential shift in my pondering was not on the vision board. In fact, I’ve never laid out anything so clearly in my life, especially since this was my last *big try* at living my dreams.

Now there is all this inner pressure to keep moving forward with my plans, even when all the sings are pointing to, “Yeah, you did the thing, but now you have to do another thing.” This lights up my Holy Shite You Are Gonna Look Like A Fruitcake Again brain centers, kicking my feelings into this weird place, and then making me ponder joining the circus. When things like this have happened in the past, I’ve leaned into the online communities where folks would offer suggested grounded in wisdom and compassion — but now, well, it’s not exactly like that anymore.

In all my 54 years I’ve yet to meet anyone who knows it all. They might think they do, but sadly they do not. Also, humans often want to know all the things and be the one to answer all the questions. I’m not sure where this lovely trend started, but I can tell you that social media foments that desire to be only one that is right about everything all of the time.

Now it is obvious that this particular awakening/shift is not going to find answers online, but instead I will once again need to navel gaze while pondering the movement of all these signs coming my way.

What are these signs you’re asking…well let me share them with you in bullet points.

Shifting Mom’s Strange Magic to a place where I’m already paying the powers that be instead of trying to reinvent the great wheel of what the frick over in the Google-verse.
Doing more short form video content on my main YouTube account, as well as writing here.
Paying attention to the portents going on around me about being more public about my spiritual and esoteric living.
Sharing more of my healing journey.
Be more creative.

Those are just the icing the cake, as the saying goes, but again my inner critic is having a field day with these things. Also, as someone who has hopefully gathered some wisdom, I know to meditate on these changes a bit before having a knee jerk reaction to them. So that’s what I’m going to do, the thinking part, and will most likely write about it here.

Honestly, this is the most intense internal shift I’ve had in a very, very long time, and it is wild to walk through it during a time of coming back from the depths of life over the past few years.

As Rumi so eloquently states, “This being human is a guest house,” and I swear truer words have never been spoken.

Until next time…sending tons of love and support to all y’all,
~ Kim

the quiet Sundays

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, sometimes you need a lot of quiet to see hidden things.

When you get a long time to be in the quiet, you start seeing things in a new way….

Data centers are not great for the environment, and I think we all know that. However, and I say this using a place that accesses data centers, if we truly want to see an end to data centers, then maybe we need to stop using the internet. Now bear with me here…

A lot of builders and engineers have to sign NDAs when building data centers, but once they are built you can find out the info on them. Say, for example, you would learn that Amazon aka AWS uses the most data. The next would be the company that rhymes with feta. Your cell phone provider might be the next one, or maybe certain political people that run certain organizations.

If you truly want to end data centers, then take a long look at your technology usage. We want to blame AI, which is becoming problematic, yes, but often when we are told who the enemy is by those who manipulate the narrative, we don’t see what’s truly going on. Ponder this, if AI can solve problems then why hasn’t anyone asked it how to solve the data issue? If you can walk around with a device in your pocket, that can hold multiple gigs of memory, then couldn’t the tech folks figure out how to use that same knowledge to store data?

Also, while electric cars are a move in the right direction, have you researched the environmental impact on the non-renewal things needed to create these vehicles? Another pondering is where does the electricity come from, and how does it come to the facilities that turn those resources into electricity happen?

There are other things, such as this spiritual superiority, what I like to call the “star seed” phenomenon. This is kind of a bold statement that some people are more evolved or awake than others. While I’m not a PhD, nor do I want one, I’ve dedicated my life to finding answers. That doesn’t make me right, and I’m not the knower of all things — thankfully. However, I am a survivor, and have seen things that make the most hard core person pass out. Not a brag, just a reality.

Now, let’s talk about addiction to media and tech. I’m not immune, and as someone that loves to research everything, consuming data like a black hole, I’ve spent days reading everything I can find.

In all of this people are not thriving, resources for the most vulnerable are being taken away, and in a rare collab, science and spiritual folks are starting to see eye to eye on the power of empathy and compassion — something I see lacking in a lot of aspects of this modern world. Maybe if we stopped pointing fingers, and started shaking hands, things might go better. Well, that and remembering that we are all, in fact, connected.

Do I have solutions? Yep, a few. Let’s offer public transportation, fix the healthcare system, sit on the porches of our neighbors even if they don’t look like us, vote like us, or whatever thing we think divides us all, and gosh…just a lot more. We have all these tools at our disposal, but yet we still want to fling excrement at each other because we think we are the only ones who are right. We also fail to see that very often what’s hiding behind the curtain is something we created…

This weekend there were some realizations about my weird lady crone work I do. Lots of folks have told me that the how’s and why’s of what my work is needs to be out in the world, and goodness gracious that’s my plan — well, more like that’s what is happening already. The thing is…I’m just not algorithm friendly. Also, some bad choices in support were made, and that took me back to some places that weren’t so great. Through into all that the decade of having to care for my family that gave me the look of being the flakiest wishy-washy milk toast. So you know, I so own that, and have made apologies where needed. Sometimes you just gotta be who you are when life throws flaming lava rocks your way. Or, maybe, sometimes you do the best you can do while paddling to stay above water. Doesn’t mean what I did was right, or the best choice. Those things keep me up at night sometimes, so I work to do better and be better every day.

There’s more on my mind, but I think it’s best to share one of my favorite quotes from a book that changed my life as a child.

“We look not at the things which are what you would call seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal. But the things which are not seen are eternal.”
― Madeleine L’Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

happy new moon in taurus

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, is long form content dying?

“We become what we are willing to see.”
― Richard Rohr

Hey y’all! The Moon is new, in the sign of Taurus, so plan your day accordingly. While I know a fair amount about astrology, I find the modern prognosticators often repeat each other in order to go viral online. But here’s the deal…a lot of the modern spiritual paths are rooted in the erasure of marginalized persons. Why go to your local Strega or Granny Woman when you can pay a lot of money to shady pseudo-spiritualists that say, “Hey, upload your financials to AI and have it tell you how to make even more money.”

So this past week has been an odd one, and I’m still sitting with the events that brought me back to the land of navel gazing. There were these tiny drops of aha! moments that created a tsunami of thoughts. Each one flowing over my brain like milk in a bowl of cereal. Trying to explain it to anyone has been impossible, and all I could say to my husband was that my creative brain decided to reboot itself back to 2013 settings.

The hard part of healing after life borrowed your creative energy for survival is when your soul says, “Hey, you tell folks all the time they are made in the image of an energy that creates, therefore you are also a creative being,” but the rest of you is like, “No. Nope. Not Today.” Writing is second nature to me, and is honestly so much a part of my life that my tagline should be, “I have a story for that,” instead of “Everything I’m about to tell you is true.” So while I was trying to write things this week, and nothing would come out, it was clear that changes were coming my way.

Oh, yes…yes those are vultures, and they are my friends. If you call them little babies, they will swoop down to visit. And before y’all come over here with your scary stories, or how you Pappy said they mean this or that, just know that I’ve studied this land for nearly 25 years. They are not a portent of doom and/or gloom, nor will they eat your face. In fact, if they weren’t here, we would be up to our pits in carrion. We fear them because they represent the part of life that is the end, and what truly comes after our body stops working. Honestly, I can’t imagine being a first human and seeing this big old bird having a meal from a long gone animal. It would seriously weird me out, but also…if I was hungry…that bird might be the best teacher. Again, before you wanna say gross, or that’s not right, sit in nature for a bit to see how the process of model/rival works. We are, after all, human animals, and we got to where we are now by observing the natural world around us.

During this whole week of transformation, while out and about, I had a whole creative idea flash through my mind quicker than the AI can tell you how wonderful you are (because it is coded to do so, but that’s a story for another day). That kind of process was dulled by those years of smiling for the camera, so to speak, and walking as close to the standards of cultural normality — at least here in the States — that I had the ability to do. While it was performative, I was not performing. Not to sound dramatic, but the fate of my family depended on me showing up like someone I am not. This wasn’t inauthenticity, as no matter what life brings us we are being authentic in our experiences. That’s not a what is the sound of one hand clapping koan, or teaching story, but a tangible reality that none of us can escape. No matter what we are doing, or how we are doing it, in that moment we are engaging a part of our true self. Which, for me, there’s an aspect of my personality that is just some woman from Kentucky doing her best in chaotic moments.

Anyway, this creative idea that I had started with painting, then crochet, and after that photography. Literally in the span of like maybe 3 seconds, my brain laid out this beautiful storyboard of ideas. It just felt really good to be back in that zone again, but it did sort of run me off the rails. But you know, life is one long river, and time doesn’t go anywhere. Maybe some past, or future, me stepped into my current timeline to show me a way out of the mire I didn’t know I was still in.

It was no surprise when my spiritual side lit up as well. I also had to put that part of me to the side during the time of caring for my family where all my energy was needed to keep us going. In my life I’ve seen how everything is connected so many times that any other examples are just overkill. It’s about metaphysics and science meeting up and having the best tea party ever. Also, the Universe is always talking to us, and it’s quite egotistical to think that it isn’t…or that we somehow know more than creation itself.

With all this going on it was hard to sit in front of my screen pondering what to write to all y’all. My fingers wanted to talk about the beauty of being human, and my mind was all aflutter with stories of grace. However, when I opening the site, got that new post ready, everything went blank. I’d get a drink of water, do the dishes, and use all the techniques writers use when feeling a block, but none of them worked. After pondering it a bit, I remember that sometimes we carry stories that are only for ourselves. Telling them to others would sort of swoosh the magic of it away, or introduce doubt into the process due to the opinions of others. So I sat with it, parsed out the aspects that were okay to share — waiting for the right time to come back to my characteristic rambling.

Which was today, with a new Moon “in the neck,” aka Taurus, to share a part of my life with the world. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with this space, but thankfully the Universe helped me out a bit. For now I’m just gonna keep showing up; keep telling tales.

Until next time…much love,
~ KEU

a magical reality

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, the image below is not mine, but it for sure sets the scene of my post.

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
— W.B. Yeats

So I’m on my 4th re-watch of The Ghost Whisperer, because why not?

Today’s post is this cloud. It wants me to tell you that it misses you.

Sometimes writing doesn’t arrive at the time you need it, like this week for example. I’ve been busy with some other things, while also getting ready for this week’s episode of The KimboBurly Tales.

You know, it’s a perfect day for an early afternoon cup of coffee and maybe some window shopping at the Dollar Tree.

With that, I’m off to take care of the day.

Until next time…much love,
~ KEU

the art of arting

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, we are all artists.

“This world is but a canvas to our imagination.”
– Henry David Thoreau

If we, made in the image of a creator (science or spiritual), then we are also creators. When I taught art classes, that was always my opening statement, along with the ins/outs of the art world. My goal with every student was to help them understand that creating for the joy of it is part of who we are.

For a long time I made art to support my family – everything from abstract art to mosaics to Zentangle. There were words, images, stories, all formed by the overwhelming urge to remind others how magical humans can be. It was absolutely where I wanted to be in my life, and was doing pretty okay in the professional creative world.

The thing about being an artist is that you have to produce items, or at least talk about the processes of what you are making/writing. That was going pretty okay for me, with some art shows under my belt, classes, and even a few articles in the local newspapers. Then something happened that shifted everything that gave me an almost 11 year hiatus of everything in my life. While the Universe might have known what was up, it took me just a little more time to see the wisdom in those changes.

What got me through those moments was the support from my wee little family — my husband and our kids — who have always believed in me. Better stated, we all stood together, making sure that everything would be okay. It is hard to explain the levels of gratitude I have for the ability to persevere through some of the wildest moments of my adult life, and to also have the resources to keep all of us afloat. Sometimes when I look ahead to my goals for bringing my pieces back into the world, my being fills with feelings of grace.

This week’s episode of The KimboBurly Tales will be about some of this, and how to find your way back home to yourself. Most likely I’ll write about up until that day, so be prepared to read a ramble or seven.

It’s a beautiful Monday, and I think the best way to enjoy it is to get out some yarn, sit on the porch, and have gratitude for the little things.

Until next time…much love,
~ KEU

The erasing of lived cultures

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, please stop saying the Gods chose who they chose.

Sun shining through plants. — If you take this photo as your own, pixies will come and tie knots in your hair.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery’ all too often means ‘Appropriation is the easiest form of thievery’.”
― Jamie Arpin-Ricci

As I step back into my work with Mom’s Strange Magic, the algorithms have decided to show me all kinds of things like tarot readers flinging cards at their camera and telling me that the powers that be wanted me to know something. Then comes the vague information such as, “They are thinking of you,” or the “The signs say go for it.” I mean two things can be true at once, the algorithms knowing your patterns and the Universe seeing a way to get a message to you, but lemme tell you a little bit about how that kinda stuff is dripping with appropriation.

This is not the time, nor is it the place, to give an extended look into the world of cultural appropriation. Also, none of us are immune from engaging in this activity. I mean how do you think we have most of what we have now – it wasn’t from honoring the societies and communities that created their rituals and ways of being.
One little trip back into history, at any time, will show you how those with more resources and greater military power conquer societies and communities…only to adapt the rituals and folkways to their own needs. It’s sort of how I see the Romans when the early Christians couldn’t be taken down by the powers that be — sort of like if you can’t beat them, join them kind of thing. Figuring that there needed to be one central place for these folks (and their money) to hang out, wouldn’t it just be a good idea to, oh…I don’t know…create the Holy Roman Catholic Church? Once fully established, and you know, never mind all the other monotheistic belief systems stemming from Abraham, because this one is the only one. But let me not ramble a blue streak about that, because I can and often do with my dear sweet husband. He’s such a patient partner, and always willing to hear about my new esoteric and arcane fact about the history of faith systems.

So, as a very pale skinned person who has parents that are from this area and engaged in the modern rituals, practices, and culture of their parents, this makes me 100% a caucasian woman from the United States. While I can appreciate Neo-Paganism and the good intentions of that belief system, often times followers of that path overlook the darker parts of how their modern ways came to be.

Just a random side note here, your dear old 2nd grandaunt who grew up in the mountains and healed people would wash your mouth out with dirt if you ever called her a witch. That woman believe in the power of the Bible, and saw Jesus as her savior. Now I’m not saying there weren’t what modern folks are calling witches, but most likely they weren’t dressed like Stevie Nicks.

Which, by the way, is sort of appropriation of cultures that were called derogatory names. I mean, we all love Stevie for sure, but also, she is also a caucasian woman from the United States. Calling oneself a “gypsy” reduces a complex culture into a lifestyle or trend.

Maybe this is where I need to say an important thing…

Being marginalized from different directions taught me a lot about how not to marginalize others. That was amplified in 2020 when the demographics of where I live got ridiculed online with phrases like, “Y’all Qaeda.” Now I understand the psychology of why this happens, but that doesn’t mean it should be accepted. One cannot say they love all, then spew hatred at those who aren’t like them.

Before I type out a dissertation on the co-opting of poverty culture for likes on social media, let me just share this week’s episode of The KimboBurly Tales with all y’all.

Y’all, I’m relearning the rules and regulations of hanging out on this platform. Apparently if you post something daily it helps push you out into the greater reader-verse (which I’m still really trying to figure out…it’s a little easier to do that over at Medium, but I’m sticking to this platform here, so…you know…just doing my best out here). You’ll see some of my lovely creativity posted this weekend, but not a lot of words. Those are my days off, well mostly off as I’m always working, but technically…that’s when I turn off my devices for a bit and stare into space.

Thanks for listening/reading. While this might seem a little like preaching, it’s more like I’m trying to do a bit more of the teaching thing. Not because I know it all, but more like there’s too much info in my brain that can be shared with others. You know, to make more room for new information!

Until next time…sending you lots of good energy and love,
~ KEU

Lived Experience Is a Credential

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, lived education is valid education.

Paper about Kim Upton teaching a watercolor class at the Hillview Library.

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
– Thomas Merton

Bee enjoying some delightful goodies from a flower.

Long ago in the Way Back Times, humans passed down information about the world around them in a manner vastly different than the systems we have today. If you wanted to learn about building a home, you went off to work with someone who understood carpentry — specifically the art of putting pieces of wood together in order to create a shelter. While the arrangement of being an apprentice might seem a little odd to us now, it was usually a benefit to both parties. This was a situation of social education, hands on experience that helped a craft continue into the future.

This type of relationship happened in other fields as well, and it seemed to suit the culture for some time. That is, until someone realized they could create a certification program where money would be paid to this credentialing entity in exchange for a piece of paper stating the person had been duly educated.

But here’s where it gets interesting, and if you’ve studied the history of the education system, you will see how it’s been geared to those who have the means to pay. This is seen now with the rising costs of higher education, pushing out those who are not able to pay for a piece of paper that no longer guarantees access to the vocation of choice. However, if you don’t have the money, there is an option to engage in predatory lending that is very similar poor folks working for the company, while being forced to buy their necessities from the company store. Don’t have enough money for a bag of flour, well then you can just put it on store credit (with a rate of interest that could never be paid).

Now you might think that I’m about to engage in some kind of internet screed that borders on aluminum chapeau territory, which is totally fair given what I wrote above. Honestly, there are already a lot of folks out there telling this tale, and that’s not the direction this post is going to take. These days I’m just not up for that kind of drama, the gnashing, wailing, and finger pointing online isn’t helpful when folks need tangible help out in the real world. That’s just how I work these days. With that out of the way, lemme continue.

While away from my professional work, the ability to pay for credentials has drastically changed. Apparently you can just buy them online now, which is kind of concerning. Instead of working with say, an herbalist with a few decades of lived experience (and credentialing that took years to achieve), you can now work with someone who had enough money to become a master herbalist in just a short 72 hours. Even after 17 years of professional experience, I don’t feel anywhere near being a “master,” as there is still so much to learn. While my years make me a Crone, that doesn’t mean someone showed up to wave a wand over my head to dub me the knower of all things.

Talking about this particular curiosity in the human culture often gets me fired up. Why? Well, let me tell you why… It has to do with the fact that many of the things that are now being gentrified and commodified are part of the daily life for indigenous persons, minorities, and the poor. If you want to hear me ramble about that, check out this episode of the Mom’s Strange Magic Podcast. These dismissals of those who have spent their lives learning all they can, being careful to have appreciation instead of appropriation, really chafes my soul. It’s giving 1910 Flexner Report, where leaning into a biomedical standard of care (which is great, but not compassionate) took away the ability of the poor, indigenous, and minorities to gain greater access to knowledge in the healthcare field. Along with that it demonized the Granny Women and community caregivers as engaging in barbaric medicine.

The point that I’m trying to get across here is this — fancy degrees are nice and I understand their appeal, but so is lived experienced. While looking for pediatricians after my oldest two were born, my husband was given some great advice from a pharmacist to look for the older doctors, as they had most likely seen everything and wouldn’t be quick to over prescribe medications that weren’t needed. That piece of advice helped us find one of the best medical caregivers I’ve ever met. He was kind, compassionate, and truly had seen all the issues a child might encounter.

Care and wellness isn’t the only place you will see something like this, as it exists in all the vocational genres. For example, if you create art, that makes you an artist. If you hand weave a basket, then you are an artisan. Taking a photo with your smart phone absolutely means you are a photographer. Sometimes folks get so caught up in protecting their entitled space that they forget that not everything is about them.

There is a saying about Wisdom being hard earned, which I gotta say has been absolutely true for my life experiences. While calling myself wise is not part of my gig, it is fair to say that my experiences have made me more perceptive, allowing a different lens for the shenanigans of others.

So, y’all, go out and be the beautiful beings of bodacious badassery. Everything you have done in your life is an experience, which makes you a subject matter expert on all the moments you’ve had. I see you out there shining brightly as the Sun, and I know you are gonna do great things!

Until next time…much love,
~ KEU

Releasing the urge to combust

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

The Unexpected Sabbatical

First of all, I’m a delight.
Second, I finally finished the site for Mom’s Strange Magic
Third, sometimes you gotta delete your social media, take a chance, and stop worrying about someday.

As the title says, I’ve been on an unexpected sabbatical that was extended into the realm of what could be called internet obscurity. And you know what…I’m okay with that. While away I had to do some deep thinking about the nature of my existence in the bloops and bleeps of the internet.

For far too long I’ve been online thinking that people will find my work, my writing, or whatever it is I’m talking about today based on the desire to meet other folks who are just a little bit odd, or weird. However, sadly, those words have taken on a different meaning these days, and the young adults in my family have encouraged me to use things like “elder influencer” (true), or my fave, “OG whimsy-goth granola Mom” (which is apparently also true according to the hashtags online).

The other part of this post has to do with the fact that anywhere I go there is AI. Have I used AI? Yes. Will I use it again? Maybe. (see upcoming paragraph) From my anecdotal research, it seems that my use of AI is not the standard. I don’t want it to plan my meals, write my words, create music/art/code, or anything I can do on my own. What it has been helpful with is when all my thoughts get balled up into a cranial dust bunny with no hopes of finding the original thought. Sometimes my brain needs to talk about everything from atoms to Zoroastrianism, all while trying to figure out why some websites can’t make understanding genetic clusters easier.

At the same time, as someone who has had to deal with the whole not getting paid for my work thing, it feels really unethical to ask a being – be it machine or otherwise – to be forced to listen to me. (side note, these are totally my em dashes) And while the loudest voices say that AI is everywhere, I can assure you that are several places where AI is not. One is either one of the porches on my house, and the second one is when we sit around the campfire (pictured above). Oh, and the most important part for you dear readers, is that I won’t be using AI to write my content.

Now, on this wild and wonderful sabbatical, it was obvious that I needed to really take a long hard look at my use of social media. Gone are the days of long form content on one platform where you could easily find others (ahem…such as LiveJournal). Now we have the book of face, the book of face in instant grams, the clock app, one about the sky, another that sounds like it will read your palm, and the one that shills you – I mean allow you to pay – for articles that are often written by…you guessed it…AI.

See what I did there?

Anyway, what I learned while away from this space is myriad, but the biggest take away is that my life is not going to fit into an algorithm, nor will I sell my eternal soul to go viral on the socials. People find me, and they find my work, and it all works out in the end for all of us.

Sometimes you really got to have breakdown before breakthrough, but it shouldn’t have to be about who you are in the digital world. It also shouldn’t give you a personal crisis about how to express yourself in the spaces geared towards selling you things you don’t need.

The other issue is how to walk in the world as a human, but also as a human that works in the world of helping others. That’s when I decided to make this my space (not MySpace although I think we would all love to see that platform return). Not a covert way to share the work I do helping others, but more like a comfy chair at my kitchen table.

So, no proclamations or promises this time, just a quiet return to the place where I enjoy writing things. If you want to see where I make things and help people, you can do that at Mom’s Strange Magic (click the hyperlink there to get to my work site).

Now, how have all y’all been these days? Fill me in on what’s new in your world.

With love,
KEU

on the turning away…

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

This morning I woke up with Pink Floyd lyrics running through my mind…
“No more turning away
From the weak and the weary
No more turning away
From the coldness inside
Just a world that we all must share
It’s not enough just to stand and stare
Is it only a dream that there’ll be
No more turning away?”
– On The Turning Away, Pink Floyd

I’d like to share something deeply personal with y’all today, and it’s not something that is my usual content – or that’s been my usual content. Over the years my words have been placed into the greater internet-verse with a desire to be understood and to feel “real.” This isn’t some kind of admission to boost my stats, or gather followers, it’s just where my life is right now. So bear with me as I ramble a bit…

At some point in my life I gathered quite a bit of anger into my being, and it decided to stay around a lot longer than anyone should have to endure. While I applied all the teachings, the mystical rituals, and tear-filled prayers to what was stirring within…nothing seemed to fix the tumultuous feelings going on within my system. Heck, I even tried the whole path of taking a fearless moral inventory while giving forgiveness to things that were beyond my control. Nothing was working, and believe me when I tell you that I literally tried everything from hugging crystals to baring my soul in therapy. My language would tell others everything was okay, but my soul was flailing about hoping to find some calm in the storm. In short, it was not a great time to be a denizen of my mind as all my thoughts put me in some kind of miasma of wonkiness. That is, until I just gave into the anger…

The first step was just being still and quiet, or being in the mode of silent running (as I’ve mentioned before). It is not a fun place to dwell, as all the insecurities come along with you, whispering complicated lies into your ears about all the things that you are doing wrong…or that you have done wrong. And friend, I’ve made so many mistakes in my life that came from a place of wanting to fit in, or hoping to not be the weirdo, or whatever force of nature was on the schedule for that day. In this time of contemplation it became pretty apparent that the common denominator in all the mishaps of my life was my self.

Now this isn’t me saying, “Oh, the people that hurt me was my fault,” nor is it a way to be absolved of my actions when my emotions ran wild – but more like, “oh……I see now…..there’s some healing to be done.”

C.S. Lewis says: “I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief,” and I’ve never seen a more truth statement in my life. Grief does very funny things to the human system, putting us into places that we never expected. We lash out, we scream, we dance around things that are important, and very often we overlook the boundaries we have in order to feel less alone. Also, we make decisions that look good on paper, or feel “right” when we try something new, but until the grief/anger nexus is resolved…we stay stuck in a boot loop of emotional turmoil.

Last year (2025), I had a serious reckoning in my life that caused me to engage in the aforementioned silent running. At the time it felt like the world was going to end, but after a few weeks it was easy to see that the Universe, or whoever was on the line that day, was absolutely worn out with me asking for someone else to fix my internal circuitry. Not only did I get eleventy billion signier signs, it was becoming very apparent that the answers needed were already within…and if I made the choice to keep overlooking them…things were going to stay the way they were. The only way out was to sit with each feeling, each sadness, and each hurt, asking them all what it was they’ve been trying to tell me all these years.

It would take a very long time to unpack all those ponderings here, and honestly it does none of us any good to put them under a public microscope, so I’m gonna do a fun bullet point list for y’all:

love everyone and tell the truth
if a box isn’t for you, don’t try to fit into it
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” (huge thanks to Mary Oliver for this one)
always trust your intuition
the anger and grief you feel is from avoiding the path you seek

Avoiding the path I seek you say, dear inner voice – whatever could you mean? Oh…you mean that a lot of the chaos in my life came from trying too hard to fit into places that were not for me due to issues from my childhood that I carried around like tokens of a fever dream…and that hiding from that which makes me wonderful (and often seen as “weird”) is also my superpower?

As I was mulling all this over in the metaphorical cave, embracing the raw power that comes from having a dark night of the soul, off in the distance there was this light. It compelled me by forces unknown to get closer, and with each step there were pieces of myself that I’d left in the control/power of others – or honestly just abandoned because there were external (meaning not things of my own doing) issues that shattered me while I was too busy trying to survive. Each time I looked closer a thought came into my head – what if I just loved these parts? And not in a bypassing way, or not taking personal accountability, but truly and deeply cared for each aspect that was left along my path.

Yesterday I returned to something that seemed so out of reach that I gave up trying. Not because it was beyond my grasp, but due to the overwhelming grief (and fear) of what others would think – or how I would be perceived. As I talk about it in the podcast (link below), sometimes you just have to be as real as you can be, even if it means starting over again for the 300th time. People are going to think what they want about you no matter what you do, and they will judge/condemn/dislike you because of their own thoughts/feelings. If the pain of not being who you are causes you to overlook your boundaries, sit at tables that aren’t yours, or stop trying to make your dreams come true…you might want to take some time to talk with those parts of you that need some love. Be still and quiet until you feel secure enough to wear stripes with plaid, or to share your creative work…or even to write about your inner world online.

And to help you along the way, might I just say a few words…

You are seen. You are loved. You are a beautiful child of the Universe, connected to everything around you. You matter. You are amazing.

Here is the link to the official (re)opening day podcast for Mom’s Strange Magic. Also, I’ll be moving all the Mom’s Strange Magic content to my Patreon page. Most of the content there will be free, and you can access it by clicking this link. Now, could I put all of this in one place – sure. Is that going to work for me personally – no. This space is my personal walk in the world where I’ll be sharing my creativity, my brain noodles, and whatever else shows up. As I’ve mentioned already, but will say again, WP does have a subscription option, which is pretty much how it is these days, but it works better for me to go through Ko-fi as I will also be selling off some of my artwork soon, and while it will be updated here it is important to keep my organization skills in a place where they are happiest. If you plan on following me, or any of my work, you can also just click that follow/subscribe button that WP provides, as I’ll be sharing all the things here as well.

With that, I’m off to feed the birds, tend to my chores, and hope that the typo faeries have been appeased enough to make this post not too full of mistakes. Plus, they also prove that AI didn’t help me write this. (LOL)

Much love to all y’all,
KEU