I saw a meme recently.
Life is like licking honey off a thorn, it said. I sent it to a friend. “What a fucking perfect description,” she responded. Both our chests ached for a moment.
For some of us, our tastebuds are naturally tuned to taste more honey. Some, more thorn. I’m in a constant inquiry into the nature of what it is to taste and be in life: the sweetness that sometimes bites, the sharp and unexpected taste of blood in our mouths, the delight of natural goodness where we might otherwise expect pain.
Why Substack, why now.
Many of you have been around for years, reading my words on your screens, in the sweet privacy of your solitude, heart-to-heart with me as I’ve shared my musings on the existential and the relational. Maybe we’ve been connected via Facebook or Instagram, or you subscribed to my email list way back when it first became a list (back in 2014, I think??).
I’ve been missing those early days for years now. Although running a healing business was always my hope and intention, the business hadn’t taken shape yet back then. I was more goo than butterfly: wrapped in my cocoon, very happy to merge with my becoming.
Over the years, my creative time has become so much more pragmatic than it used to be. I’ve stopped sharing my field notes from the cave:
I stare at walls and look out of windows and hover my pen over my journal in noisy coffee shops, sensing that other reality in which stories are born and told.
Take me to church.
Every Sunday, a new post.
Through Substack, I aim to intentionally re-enter the chrysalis, become goo, merge again with the existential and relational, and report back to you, a responsive community. Each week I will post my musings, memories, reflections, integrations and voice notes on what’s bubbling up from the currents of this ocean of Becoming.
This particular subscription is a place for us to be in deeper, more intimate relationship and conversation with one another. You’ll join me here if you want more than the “work” part of my work; my email list will remain intact, and from there, I’ll share events, education, ways to learn alongside and work with me.
But here, within the Substack container, I’ll just be Morgan with you. It will be personal. I don’t know another way to be in relationship than to do it intimately, and I’ve been craving that with all of you for a long time. If you, too, are an intimacy junkie, join me.
No one has read what I’ll share here. I will post the first few entries for everyone and then my paid subscribers will receive a new installment every week.
If you’re here, you are cherished (even if we’re strangers). Perhaps you are a being who thrives in intimate spaces; you’re someone who leans in and listens in quiet corners of crowded rooms; someone who finds yourself constantly revived and connected to your own humanness when someone shares the truth of their confusion, their figuring-it-out-ness, their, “Welp, I cried on the kitchen floor again this week,” or their, “I stood in the rain and was alive”-ness.
You are my people, and I’m so grateful to create a space where we can be together in this way, again, or for the first time.
The Loving Kind.
My work as it exists today, as both practitioner and human, is always emerging out of the relentless growth channels that move me towards what, who and how I love. I believe this is true of all of us. It can be — and often is — surprising to find that the pursuit of Love Itself is enough: to discover, again and again, what this thing called Love is; how it moves and inspires; what it unwinds in our tightly-clenched fists; who we find when we forgive who we aren’t and integrate who we are.
I first found this form of contemplation in my meditation practice almost 20 years ago. Many of you will know it as Loving Kindness.
This Substack, The Loving Kind, is largely a continuation of what is always emergent, always present… honest contemplation into what it means to be what we are: the kind of humans who seek love, and loving well, as an art and spiritual practice.
We are, I truly believe, The Loving Kind.
To wrap it up, some words from your friend and mine, David Whyte:
You want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.
Even, I might add, if that one hand is your own.
Thank you for being here. I’m excited for what’s ahead.
With love,
Morgan
Welcome to Substack. Delighted to see you here.