Connect with Kayce!!

Join me LIVE Oct 27-Nov 1, 2019!! Click image for details.

Take your soul for a stroll today!

SoulStrolling Inspiration Deck

 

 

 

 

 

Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

 Click logo to shop IndieBound

 

Click image to order

 

Live it to Give it News

Email Format

 

Live it to Give it is committed to keeping any information shared on this website or newsletter private. We follow compliance guidelines of the GDPR to keep your privacy secure. We never share or sell any data gathered through this website. 

Search Blogposts
« On silence, voice, & privilege | Main | Mother Earth Writes in Her Pajamas »
Monday
Jan212019

Ties on the Table aka Friction 

by Kayce Stevens Hughlett

"I will write from the heart for myself—remembering my practice of writing to discover what I know.” (Found in my journal for intention setting). So here we go …

Sasuraibito Tarot Ties. Hog-tied. Bow-tied. Tongue-tied. I wonder where to begin or even how. Pick up the tie, make a loop, ponder a bow. Or a noose. The Hanged Man raises his hand reminding me of a pose upside own in daylight or right side up in the middle of the night.

Tethers. Feathers. Facing freedom and forgetting it. Floating free and feeling tied down. Straining at my pen like ropes wrapped around my wrists. The words hide behind my back and peek out from behind the blood red moon.

I live in a Hermit month that invites me to create. Lady H with a candle at her waist. Wasting time, worrying over words, wondering what it means to create.

To make, to mend, to matter.

Apparition TarotTies of cloth and paper and wire. Why write? Why wait? Why bother? It’s a question I’ve heard a lot lately. Why bother? Why rise? Why fight? Why walk or stroll when you can crawl into a hole? The Hermit peeks out of her cave from the corner of her world where colored glass hangs on multi-colored threads. A red one that leads to the root. An orange that laughs like sunshine. Black that speaks of a great poet’s death. I wonder if Mary Oliver is laughing now, strolling through golden fields with her beloved Percy romping by her side. She was so sad the last time I saw her, fumbling with aged hands and choking on her poetry. More ties. Tongue-tied, hog-tied, why-tied.

Black, yellow, red. Bolo. Bowed and bouncing. The ties lay scattered across the scene—untethered, ungathered, unconnected like the thoughts that float through my mind. Beloved threads. I call for them, find them, follow them. Ancestral and meaningless. Sometimes they spark joy and other times I want to toss them out like Marie Kondo’s trash.

 

Order here!

SoulStroller: experiencing the weight, whispers, & wings of the worlds  has arrived! Available @ Bookstores, Amazon, and your favorite audio version

“Hughlett finds her voice in the most unexpected places—amidst the grief of life’s challenges, in letting go, in strengthening through presence.” Pixie Lighthorse,  Prayers of Honoring Grief 

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>