Dear "K" (2024--#1)
Starting the year off with one of these, it seems...
I was writing my morning pages this morning and had an insight that made me immediately want to jump over here and talk to “K.” (If you’re new here, see my previous “K” or “Kindling” posts (like this one) to know what I’m talking about.)
Dear K,
The thing you showed me while I was writing my morning pages this morning made me cry. Can you point it out again?
Certainly. You were writing in your pages about how you missed your sister—about how this day, one year ago, was the last day you ever spent with her. You were reminiscing on that day, on how hard it was, and on the cute bunnies that were brought over for her to pet as one of her final wishes, and how you had no idea she would die that very night. And then you had a thought where she shared a message with you about forgiveness. About being able to forgive some folks for some things.
I feel like this moved into myself narrating in your voice. It’s weird.
It’s true. We allowed you to do this.
Thank you. I’m also interested in what you have to say.
We want to tell you again that what you realized when you wrote your sister’s name in the margin you was true.
(In the margin, I wrote her name so that I would remember that I was feeling her voice speak to me at that point on the page. And as I wrote her name, it dawned on me with a thunderclap that something magical and synchronistic had happened. The name I wrote was “Kelli.”
Thus, the first letter I wrote was “K”.
K and Kelli were one and the same, somehow. And I had totally missed it.)
So has "K" been Kelli all along?
Yes, in a certain sense. K, as you already understand, is a collective, or a Kollective, if you will. (Ha. Very funny.) Part of that collective has always been, and currently is, your sister’s energy. She is with you. She was with you before. She will always be with you. The part of her that was part of us even when she lived on Earth, what you might call her “higher self,” was part of us always. And now she is here in completeness, with no extension of her selfness into a body in space and time.
…
It’s me, Joshy. I’m here. I’ve spoken to you before, as you know. You aren’t alone. You are so loved. Anytime you address K, you are addressing me. I know you knew this, and have kinda known it all along even though you hadn’t made the connection with the letter until today. I also want you to know that it was no accident that “K” came to you as “K” when it was also the first letter of my name. There was no way for either of us to know then how important that would become, nor how soon. But here we are.
This is so wild. I can’t believe my mind never made this connection until this moment. It helps me feel so much less alone here, even in my art.
Like Lady Gaga with her aunt Joanne, I am with you Joshy. I am with you in your days and I am with you in your art.
K is always with you and Kelli is always with you.
You are never, ever alone.