Writings

undressing summer

11/17/2021

I wrote this in 2020 as we transitioned from summer to fall in Midcoast Maine. The intensity of the seasons is undeniable, especially in New England, where each season really ripens completely. It was my last autumn on the East before I moved out to California.

Undressing Summer

A garden bed undresses for fall’s arrival.
We examine one another before agreeing to the challenge.

Her bed, coated in spiny chestnut shells.
woven roots lay dormant below layers of skin.
Part lucious, part skeletal.

I cut, haul, and carry the brittle bones of summer’s body
To the pile of death under the blooming apple tree,
becoming life while I sleep.

I wouldn’t know the fullness of love
if I didn’t have to entwine with death in the aftermath.
This requires a steady hand
and breathing room.

It’s late August in Maine now.
My body feels strong,
carved by the original artist’s hands.
Her medium, the elements.
Her paintbrush, an instinct pulsing in my belly,
singing in my ears.

Dig, tug, pull, repeat.
Sorting out old wounds held inside her
Through my body.

These hands work.
Hands that know healing.
Hands that trace every pure line in her rawest, wildest form
Intimidating the hell out of me.
The artist takes me in the direction of her vision

Last hugs from summer

9/13/2020

summer is closing shop. I can feel it in the way the late summer sun touches my skin, how the mornings and evenings are slowly getting crisper, requiring a sweater to always be handy. Socks instead of barefeet, warming oats rather than morning smoothies. Late afternoon tropical thunderstorms and a clearing that reveals puffy ruby-colored clouded skies. The sun riding home to the hills earlier now. The anticipation of the final refreshing ocean swims.

In the gardens, I long to hold onto the passing height of summer. The days where the sun is so high in the sky, I lose my sense of time and place in the thick humidity. I miss learning to know the dirt, the plants, the bugs and pollinators. A welcomed post-work cold plunge to revive my bones. The way my soul is fed by the warmth of the sun penetrating my skin, and my barefeet share kisses with the earth.

Could feeling the autumnal shift be our personal late summer harvest? The body is magic. I can feel it when I wake earlier in the morning, warm tea and cooked fruits having me cosy. A pull for more evening cuddles and company. More writing, more art, giving my wild mind a place to unleash her active temperament.

It’s naturally occurring, and I don’t want to fight it. Though when I sit in the garden beds harvesting the final batches of Tulsi and watching the magnificent Greek mullein and queenly teasel go to seed… my heart yearns. Even though I slurped up summertime like a caterpillar to milkweed, moving my body to meet the earth’s daily rhythm, I’m still teary about saying goodbye. Transitions for me are usually challenging ♉︎, especially when it means saying goodbye to someone I love…
I know she will return, but I’ll never get back this moment in time, and it has me feeling into the spaces within where I could have surrendered more, invited in more presence and awakeness. Perhaps it will never be enough, no matter how thoroughly I savor the course of summer.

Part of me is anxiously awaiting cooler temps and thicker sweaters...but my California spirit aches for a forever summer. A late summer, to me, is like savoring the last bite of a rich and creamy dessert. I know the shift is inevitable, it’s already in motion. I ask myself, how will I be in relationship with her this year? Will I drive south for warmer weather weekends? Will I let my tears fall when I feel nostalgic? Will I let my imagination dance in the glowing pools that winter holds in her cave? Will I get swept up by the winds of the fall, floating in and out like the falling petals and rain and summer sun. Will I know how to keep my body strong and warm come darker days? Will I find the connections to keep me bright-eyed and engaged as the days contract and the nights expand?

I’ve spent nearly all spring and fall deepening my relationship with this life-giving plant world.
In the spring, she slowly started to open herself up to receive new life. We uncovered her restful beds and planted seeds as a vision for our future...
We prayed and labored, our hands offering and receiving healing with each dig and pull.
Our pains and joys indiscriminately held by her earthy body.
She reminded me how, with the right conditions, I can grow and let go.
Herbs like blue vervain, looking sad and abused from the outside, until one day she surprised me with full vibrancy!
The season turns yellow and dies back,
seeds are being saved and my mind tries to make sense of what life will be like as my lover goes away.

~Katie Ring

why do we suffer alone?

6/5/2019

Why do we suffer alone?

The last two days have been HARD. I felt acutely aware of my anxious thoughts, worries and concerns about future events, keeping me out of the present moment. And even though I could feel universe showing me something important, revealing parts of myself to myself, I still was unwilling and resistant to facing this. I avoided my daily practices, or I begrudgingly faced them. I moved into old tactics to self-soothe and keep me from facing myself.

self-sabotage toolkit:
-sleeping in
-avoiding phone calls
-crave-eating
-obsessive compulsive behaviors
-blaming the behaviour on something, like the moon
-online window shopping (it’s a weird non-committal, boredom habit)

I usually land on the avoidance end of the spectrum. Though I really do believe it’s because I need more support! I’d like to call on my community more, but I sometimes feel uncomfortable/ don’t always know for what/question how I'll be received/am I allowed to feel weakness? Maybe this is where faith comes in. I personally love when a friend asks me specifically for help. If we really genuinely support our brothers and sisters, I think we could hold our breath longer when we’re underwater. We might not sink next time we jump in the water and forget what to do down there. Could it be we’ve always been scared of the great open ocean? Though once we feel the glorious water and beautiful fishies and that our friends and family are right next to us, hanging out on the shore...do you get the metaphor?!

Ok so let's continue. I'm talking to my friend Sara (it took a lot to answer the phone and make a plan). She tells me she’s been in a funk these last two days too. AHH the relief of I’M NOT ALONE UNDER WATER!! But I'm sorry you are suffering too... let's help each other.

We both felt like lounging around and being snack-asaurs, but we knew we’d feel better getting outside and walking. Thank GOD we did. Even though I maybe felt 20-30% better, it was OK. I realize that sometimes I expect myself to jump from depressing lows to happiest highs. Like, if I’m down low, I shame myself for being down there. And that I should try to “fix” it with “healthy” techniques like pranayama or green drinks or working out.

I’m not saying one way is right or wrong, but I guess I’d like to keep at this whole balancing act thing. Maybe it’s my Libra moon (am I blaming the moon again?!) Either way, I like to think that if I'm in a funk, I know it will change in 2/2.5 days (again a moon cycle!) and I know I will get out of it and be onto new experiences. I learn a lot about this through my teachers. How graceful can we remain during the tough times? How do we enter and exit a challenge? and if we DO regress and turn to old destructive habits, how do we recover with a swiftness?

My phone buzzes, another dear sister is feeling off too! ahh the relief of suffering together.

Let us not bare this burden alone! Let us ask for help when we need it! Let us stop feeling guilty for asking for what we need, even if we don't really know what that is quite yet.

working out the heart muscles

11/5/2018

I've just landed back in Boston after a FULLY love-steeped weekend in San Diego, celebrating the marriage of my dearest friend Jamie, "J" and her husband David. I have known Jamie for over 10 years. The love that her and David share is so pure, so playful. When they look at one another, I swear they leave this physical plane and travel to fairytale fields of bliss. I really have never seen Jamie so happy, and this couple proves that love knows no boundaries.

Feeling inspired and perhaps a bit honey-moony after this bliss-y weekend, I realize that, if there is something we want, it is HERE for us. We are so good at coming up with excuses as to why we shouldn't begin something, or why we don't need XYZ, or how we're not qualified enough or old enough or smart enough to do it. All we need to do is BEGIN. All we need to do is question the thought and find out if it's real or make believe. All we need to do is share the WILD idea pounding in our chest with a supportive friend or encouraging mentor, and BEGIN. START. ACT.

I don't know about you, but MY mind is analytical and logical and I LOVE using my mind to solve problems.
On the other hand...
I spent this entire weekend filling my heart up up UP and away. I honestly feel like my heart has grown with the love shared by Jamie and David, and all the friends and family at the wedding last weekend. And with that, my contemplative mind is suddenly embracing my hearts' desires with far less question.
To show up
To deliver
To represent

Kind of like how the other week, it was my breath muscles that I was building.
This week, it was like my heart-strings were being strummed for the first time.

breath is a muscle

10/22/2018

We work out our physical body
through movement, repetition, discipline...
We strengthen our muscles.
We increase our endurance.
We boost our immunity.
We clear our mind.

Our breath has a body too.
Her body is less visible. Less, perhaps, noticed.
cared for
honored.
She's our humble partner,
our life-giver
Carrying us from moment to moment
until she parts ways with our physical body.

On every inhale, exhale...
we are flexing this breath muscle.
Just like our physical muscles,
the breath desires to feel strong
It wants to become more capable.
It wants to help us work through illness
tension, disease, pain.

And it shares the same capacity as our magnificent physical body!

Though this breath,
this sacred aliveness
Dare I say it may even be MORE powerful
than the physical body is capable of understanding
or the mind of knowing.
And because she is our forever partner
perhaps we take her for granted.
For it is not until we really tune into her rhythms
dancing with her, speaking with her in native tongue...
When we rediscover the magic within,
sparkling in delight
for it has been here all along
just waiting to be praised.

~Katie Ring

Creation Energy

1/14/2018

Creation energy

I hold back
My sacred energy

In lack.
not enough
not wanting to cause harm,
not wanting to consume
not wanting to contribute to a current system
when I could be creating.

Holding her back, tightly.
constraining her within a box
with squares and lines and edges...
Where are the flowing circles and spiraling flowers?
Where is the wind that blows gently, kissing the horizon?
Where are the loving strangers who wander in and out?
Or the creatures whom we forget to notice?

She burns.
I pick at her core,
forcing a natural process,
abusing this energy.
How do I not challenge you with love?
How do I not see your goodness?
Your existence is service.
I’ll keep you for greed and fear.

Then I learn,
for this moment.

Uncomfortably I share your presence with else.
Feeling into your depths,
falling
without your permission.
This gift I’ve been offered
and I choose to use it contain it.
though it does not really gift me in this form
but tragedy and hardship.

~Katie Ring
Awakenwithkatie.com

Pranayama

8/10/2017

Breath. Breathing. Something so familiar, yet so foreign.
She asks me to enter her.
She asks me to hold her deeply for a moment.
Then I release.
Together.
Letting her out as I let her in
As I need her
as she needs me.
Such respect for her being.
A state of true love,
All that we experience is one another’s presence.
She moves in and out of my being
Just as she always had.
But this time, I fully receive her.
I invite her into me as though we are all that has ever existed.
Come here. Come into me.
Fill my lungs. Open my heart. Let my being expand like yours.
Let us share in each other’s dance,
The one of rising up and falling down,
Over and over again without end.
What do you really feel like, my sweet breath?
Why do I treasure you and ignore you all at once?

By Katie Ring

Fear of Her Womb

3/31/2017

To be a woman…
For me, means getting uncomfortable
Often.
Remembering that I am capable.
I am ever-changing
yet I am always becoming
More of myself.
A form that is pure and capable.
A vision that is solid and divine.
A feeling that is safe and warm.

I was afraid of my last moon cycle
When I got her two weeks early.
I was immediately afraid of her power.
Her strength.
She came upon me without fear,
completely unapologetic
And unforgiving, like Kali ma
I didn’t trust her process this time,
For my state of being felt compromised
At the time.

I didn’t trust myself.
I didn’t feel open to receiving.
And therefore I didn’t honor my womb,
and the blood being shed.
She knew to move the excess heat from my body
so I could recover quickly and easily
from my sickness.

Grief. stagnation.
Rising up and out of my lungs to be cleared.
My womb pulsing like the universe in action
Clearing and moving energy within my depths.

Still I questioned her intentions
Because it seemed so out of ordinary
Because it looked so different than I had ever seen.
I questioned the faith I’ve been guided by.

This is God, she says.
Our sacred temple
Always adapting, ever evolving.
And how will I move through with her?
In the discomfort, of course.
For that is how I choose to learn.

~Katie Ring

Wardrobe Health Care

3/2/2017

Material.
I've often thought of "material things" as bad.
As though they are extras that I want, and don't really need.
But I do have needs.
And I do need materials.
Like I need a place to sleep
which takes material.
and I need a container to drink my water,
which is material.
and I need clothes to wear
to stay warm in the winter.

And I choose to wear clothes that make me feel good.
I choose to wear clothes that I can move in, easily.
Clothes that keep me warm, that represent my personality.
Clothes that make me excited to go out in the world and be myself!
Clothes that can spark a conversation, or bring up an emotion.

A lot of people have been asking me what kinds of clothes I'm wearing
which happen to be some of my favorite pieces :)
I had a bit of a clothing meltdown at the beginning of the year.
I felt like I owned too many clothes I didn't love
and that was how I was presenting myself to the the world.
I didn't feel good in these clothes,
and I wanted to understand why.

So I laid them all out, covering my entire bedroom floor.
I looked at the colors and fabrics and styles…
I made sections and outfits and donation piles…
I compared the pieces I liked and the ones I didn't.

After about a week of investigating this, I realized some things that made me a lot happier about wearing clothing! (which isn't always fun for me...):

I like to wear clothes that flatter my skin tone, hair and eyes, which are warm, earthy colors. This tends to change seasonally as my skin tone and hair lightens from summer to winter.
I like soft, breathable clothing. Many of my athletic pants, jeans and bras feel too restricting, so in a way my body literally cannot breathe! I don't want to move through life this way.
Clothes that are too small or too big on me do not feel good to wear! That's like a constant body shaming happening each time I wear my too-snug dress, or even LOOK at it in my closet.
I invalidate my desire to purchase new clothes because I don't want to contribute to material waste, or buy something from a source that doesn't operate sustainably. So I often find myself accepting hand-me-downs because to me they feel new, simply for the fact that it is new to my closet and therefore it is better than what I already have.
The clothing or shoes I own that feel most loved and timeless are ones that were made with a lot of love! These are handmade items, unique, simple, elegant and often made in the U.S. (yay!) and cost more than their Asian counterparts. I've spent more money on these favorite pieces than my others because I can feel their quality. I know they will last a long time because they are made with single organic fabrics or are sown by hand. It feels more like an investment in my long-term wellbeing, like some sort of wardrobe health care.

For an entire week, a friend and I challenged each other to wear our favorite clothes, no matter where we were going or what we were doing. There were days I wanted to hang around in sweatpants…which made me realize I don't like some of my hanging-around clothes, I'm actually embarrassed by them! Some of my pajamas are not even comfy, the only reason I've been wearing them is because I thought they were cute. I also have a big, cozy "ugly" sweater hand-me-down that I tried out one day that I got lots of complements on. Testing out my style on others has helped me to see what works too.

In the end…
I still struggle with wearing clothes that make me happy.
I still buy clothes from second-hand shops or pieces manufactured in other countries.
If I need a new piece because my size has changed and I invalidate my needs, I will resent anyone else who owns or wears it, and I still won't have my needs met.
Going through clothes with a friend is really helpful! Not always easy, but worth it!

<3
~Katie Ring

True nourishment is the taste of freedom

2/7/2017

by Rory Savatgy

A lot can change in a short amount of time, and usually it's only months down the road that I actually begin to notice the changes, LONG after the fact…so long that I'm onto new endeavors and projects and hobbies and relationships and it's all so busy
and rushed
and fast.

and I forget about my body
even though She carries me everywhere.
and I've gotten good at ignoring her
especially in the winter.
my mind tells her who's boss.

my delicate, human body~
She brings me back to equanimity.
I haven't given her enough space
I haven't given her time.
then I expect so much out of her.
some kind of five-star performance
pretty much every day.

and when she speaks up, I don't really listen.
She tells me she's sick, so I ignore her.
She tells me to slow down, so I keep doing.
She makes known how tired she is, and I criticize her for being too lazy.

I can't imagine consciously doing this to someone I love
but I must be
because I've been after myself for who knows how long.

I don't want to listen to her hungry heart
so I feed her full belly instead
so not to deny her hunger
yet starving her of voice.

I remind her she is safe.
Reminders don't usually work.
Only when I acknowledge her being,
the vastness of her beautiful humanness,
that I recall what feels safe.

When I can settle in again
I listen to her cries
and soothe her pain.

That's it.
Something cleared.
in true nourishment,
the taste of freedom.

~Katie