It’s Just a Cup!

I want to write about this cup.
This simple, green cup.
But my mind quickly goes blank.

I want to share what it is like to reach for a green cup and acknowledge that I feel as passionately averse to that cup as a small child who preferred yellow—and my heart sinks in my chest.

If I could articulate with an eloquence that honors my love for sharing my heart through written word, I would find a way of telling you how my children and I have been avoiding this cup—and all of our green plates, bowls, and cups—as if anything of this color is riddled with the black plague.
My hands shake.

Green was his.

In our big, beautiful family, I assigned colors to each of us based on our favorites and our energies—it satisfies my need for organization.
I am purple.
Aspen is yellow.
Vaughn is blue.
Gabriel is orange.
Kora is pink.
…and he likes green.
Now green feels like harm.

I imagine the shade of a blade of grass curved beneath a resting cricket like a miniature bench,
the textures of the leaf that grows from the stem of a vibrant and blossoming rose,
the motion of simple lily pads riding the ripples from the edges of the lake where my children and I have paddled together,
Or the grounding scent of an evergreen pine needle in the coldest months of winter… and I feel calm.

Then I reach for the cup—and as my hand draws close, I feel the electric currents in my frontal lobe build until my head feels scratchy like wool.
And my words are sucked from my mind like a vacuum.

I breathe slowly and fully, letting my lungs fill to capacity.
I hold it for a moment and take one more sip of air, feeling my ribs expand further.
I focus on the sensation of my ribcage.
How much can I stretch the lungs this time?
Can I stretch them more than the last time I took an intentional breath?
An ongoing competition I have with myself—gamifying my breath.

I release the breath slowly and focus the energy down into my body… I feel the warmth of the electric current as it travels and fills my womb—and I feel an energetic shift.

I look at the cup again and notice I have been biting my lip—I release it.

I reach for the matching lid… I have every intention of drinking from this cup this time.
It is just a cup!
I feel nauseous.

I notice that my fingernails have been piercing my right palm in my clenched fist—and this is not the first time. I recall the hundreds of times I have realized that my fingernails had been digging into my skin.
I release my fist, then notice the sense of urgency to re-clench my fingernails into my palm—almost as if that were their rightful place.
So I allow my fingers to press painfully into my palm again.

I close my eyes and focus on the simple pinching sensation in my palm.
What does this do for me?
I feel a warm, electric current grow from my hand and travel up my arm, through my shoulder, across my chest, up the side of my neck, and into my jaw.
It is soothing.
My jaw unclenches.

I sit with the sooting sensation, then I mirror the clenching in my left hand and wait.
The tension of that hand feels tighter.
That arm feels more stiff.
The heart does not want to remove the armor it has built up on my left side.

So I let that be okay for now.
I notice my breath.
And I open my eyes, orienting my eyes to where I am in space.

I look at the cup again.
My hands still shake, but I am not biting my lip.
My heart still sinks, but my brain does not feel like scratchy wool.
I do not feel numb or empty.

I breathe intentionally.
I reach for the cup… this time, holding it in my hand. I feel a tolerable discomfort… and a notable ability to also access comfort.

I pour my coffee.

My capacity to face this green cup has expanded—and I will be okay.
This sucks… and I will be okay.
Practice.
Consistency.
Time.
I will be okay.

I am creating a virtual space where I will be sharing my process. An “at home with Kat” experience of vulnerability where you will receive:
👉🏽 Somatically intentional movement
👉🏽 Nervous system expansion.
👉🏽 Breath-work.
👉🏽 And, of course, written word when it flows through me.

This space will be a highly accessible paid community space—a monthly subscription.
🙏🏽 The income will support my ability to continue to care for my special needs daughter, feed my 4 children, and rebuild our lives from ground zero.

The first 25 people to join are gaining lifetime access for $11/month as a heartfelt “thank you” for supporting our fresh start.
The entry price will then raise to a sliding scale of $22, $33, or $44/month—you pay what feels aligned for you.

My children are everything to me and supporting their wellness is my life’s greatest work.

🤎 Whether or not you choose join this community, I ask that you do me the kindness of pressing “share” so I can reach a wider audience. 🤎

If you desire to join, write “green cup” in the comments below.

I look forward to the opportunity to share what this embodied process looks like for me—the soothing, the ugly, the beautiful, the reality.
Perhaps it can serve you as we navigate this wild world together.