i'll see you on the island.
taking a break + letting it all happen.
Hi. I’m Katie. This newsletter is a place where I explore my spirituality and my humanity in an intersectional way. Here’s what I’m thinking about this week…
There’s a song in the (very problematic) Disney film, Pocahontas, called “Just Around the Riverbend.” It’s been my earworm for the past week or so, constantly playing in my head.
I’m not sure why. I don’t remember hearing it recently, but in idle moments, I’ll find myself humming bars from the movie I first watched in theaters back in 1995.
In it, Pocahontas sings about longing for what is next, about feeling that she is right on the edge of glimpsing what is waiting for her around the next curve of the river. She talks about being brave enough to leave the still waters of security and give oneself over to the rapids of potential.
To be safe, we lose our chance of ever knowing
What's around the riverbend
Waiting just around the riverbend
Now, to be completely frank, Pocahontas is singing about a man1, which I find to be a terrible letdown, but if you can get past the patriarchal bullshit, the song is one that feels pretty accurate for my life right now.
My partner arrives today. I move in 12 days. The waning gibbous moon will be in Gemini, an apple with a bite taken out of it that coerces me to chase it across the ocean to St. Croix, where I can devour it fully.
It can’t come soon enough.
On Sunday, during a free gathering I co-hosted with Katie Vann, astrologer Chelsea Jewel described this feeling as akin to the moment before a big soccer game, right as you’re about to run on to the pitch.
It’s about to happen. There’s nothing left to learn. No practice drills to run. No time to wonder if you could have done more.
All that’s left to do is lace up your cleats and run out into the crush of energy radiating from the fans and your teammates. To grab your paddle and push the water away one last time. Whether you’re in the river or on the soccer field, you finally round the corner and see it.
What you’ve been waiting for.
I don’t think I have anything left to say about this particular bend in my life. This period of anticipation.
And, strangely, I don’t think I can write about the move as it is happening. So it’s time to pause. This is me, telling you that I’ll see you on the island. I’m taking a break from my public, Tuesday posts for now.
I’m done writing about what it feels like to sit in the embrace of my canoe, my paddle driven deep into the sediment of the riverbed, and to feel the water begin to pick up speed around me. I’ve written about it here, here and here.
I know that, as soon as I pull my paddle free, I will ricochet forward with all of the pent-up energy I have held within myself for the past few months of waiting. I will beat back the water with gusto, propelling myself forward into my next chapter.
And to be honest, I want to feel every single moment of it.
I find it difficult to write about what I am in the middle of navigating.
The most frustrating thing about my art is that it is retroactive, best realized when I choose to look at things after the fact. I want to honor this about myself. So a pause is what feels right to me.
At risk of sounding very full of myself, this time in my life feels sacred, like something I want to hold close to my body and keep just for myself for the time being. I want to be a little selfish and feel it for myself first, to try it on for size and understand it, before sharing it with others.
I know I will share what’s around the riverbend, what’s across the ocean. Just not right now.
I’ll still be posting on Fridays because, well, I know myself well enough to know that I have to write. But I want to write to feel, not reflect.
I want to tell you about the strange interaction I had with a medium a few weeks ago and how much he knew about my grandmother without me breathing a word of it.
I want to tell you about how ugly this whole move-to-a-tropical-island thing can be, despite looking dreamy from the outside. And, at some point, I will need to write about my least favorite topic of all: money. The financial aspect of choosing the island life is tricky, to put it lightly.
I’m honest and messy and a lot more “of the moment” on Fridays. Where Tuesday's posts are a semi-curated Instagram feed of past moments, Fridays have more of a BeReal2 vibe: a place where I post cursed selfies and lament about having to leave behind my very comfortable mattress when I move (it’s a Nectar, in case you were wondering, and I love it).
On Fridays, I write more candidly. I’ve written about my long distance relationship with my partner, what it feels like to lose someone I barely knew, and how frustrating nostalgia can be. I want to write as if I’m talking to you, one of my friends, about how beautiful and challenging and big life can be.
And I’d love for you to join me.
Truth be told, I hate selling myself, and I hate attaching a price to my writing.
It feels weird to ask you to subscribe. But there is something to be said about the exchange and investment that occurs when you support a creator tangibly. And honestly, I know that my paid subscribers truly want to be there with me—and that’s worth more than all the money in the world.
If you’ve been thinking about subscribing, I can confidently say that now is the time to do it. My life is about to get way more interesting and chaotic as I leave St. Louis and embark on my next adventure in the US Virgin Islands.
I’m about to enter into a period of love as I move in with my partner. A period of rest, as I slow down to match the tempo of island time. And a period of change, as I figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do next with my time here on this Earth.
So, if it feels right, I’d love to see you on the island.
Until then.
I don’t want to put a timeline on this moment in my life, but I plan to resume Tuesday posts in November. As always, I’ll still be over on Instagram, sharing photos of my adventures. See you soon.
Truth be told, both Kocoum and John Smith suck. I’m team Nakoma. Surely someone has written that alternate ending…
For those not in the know, BeReal is an app that prompts you to take a photo at a different time every day. You have two minutes to snap, and everyone does it at the same time so that you can see what your friends were doing in the moment. It’s cool and also I am realizing that I lie in bed way too often.
A break from Tuesdays sounds like a wonderful idea. Excited for you with your move! Such a big thing. May the logistics go smoothly and the landing be soft.