🤍 What keeps us together

Hello friend 👋

Have you ever thought, “What would happen if the Earth lost gravity for five seconds?”

ONE Mississauga, TWO Mississauga, THREE Mississauga, FOUR Mississauga, FIVE Mississauga…

A loss of gravity means the planet stops pulling us in. Without something holding everything together, life as we know it, would break apart — literally.

Everything would float away. People, animals, trees, cars, buildings, lakes, mountains would rise into the sky.

The ground itself would lift and crack open, releasing Earth’s inner heat in violent volcanic eruptions. Tidal waves would soar and never fall, hanging floods suspended in mid-air. Earth would spin away from the Sun and drift off into space — along with all the other planets in our solar system.

Our atmosphere would dissipate. The air we breathe? Gone. The sudden loss of pressure would burst our eardrums, and we’d lose consciousness in a flash.

Water would vanish too. Stripped of oxygen, it would turn to hydrogen gas, causing every living cell to explode.

Without gravity, the world would break apart. Shatter, chaos, float away, disintegrate, and gone.

Gravity anchors us to life on Earth. It keeps us together, tethering us to this human experience.

And then, we try to defy gravity.

Part of me would be okay to slowly sink into the ground and get a full body squeeze from the planet. Part of me wants to pull my kids close and hug them so tight we become one again. Part of me will grasp, clench, and hold on for dear life.

Another part of me feels like I have to jump out of my own skin. Another part of me wants to catch a wave and let it take me far far away. Another part of me willingly volunteers to break apart.

A yearning comes from a pull somewhere else. Another gravitational force. Another connection calling.

While gravity holds me here, connection holds me up. Responding to that call over there means I reach. Something has to expand, to grow, in order to touch, to make contact.

That constant tension is like a pulse. Contract, expand, contract, expand. In, out, in, out. Small, big, small, big. Here, there, here, there. Until there is here.

So what’s pulling? Where’s it coming from? Will I respond? What am I actually connected to?

🤍 I want love to be my gravity.

Gravity happens to us; connection happens because of us.

For the next Soul Care Sunday, we’ll explore connection: the threads that tie us to this human experience and the ones that invite us to reach beyond ourselves.

Through music, poetry, movement, and mindfulness, we’ll pause to reflect on the pull of the here and now, the ties to our individual inner worlds, the bonds with those around us, the mysteries of the unknown, the gravity of nature, and embrace the knowing that we’re a speck of something so massive and so whole.

I hope you’ll join us.

🤍 When: Sunday, December 8
🕥 Time: 10:30AM - 12PM
📍 Where: Society Clubhouse, 967 College St, Toronto
🎶 Music: Piano performed by Michelle Lau
🎟️ RSVP: Click here to book your spot (there are 12 left)
🚸 Note: Kids and teens are welcome to join this peaceful and reflective space

You’re the balm.

xo
Karen

P.S. You read this far? Thank you for trusting me with your time and connecting with me in this way. If this letter sparked a thought or feeling for you, I’d love to hear about it. Simply reply to this email or share your comment below.

🔗 May you feel loved

Here are three pieces of balm to soothe the human experience. (All three are free and two come from people in the Balm Community.)

1. Something for when you feel weighed down by the gravity of nonsense, noise, and stuff. You just want to connect with something of sustenance. You’re not alone.

2. Something for when you need rest but you keep resisting it. What would happen if you rip off that busy-ness badge of honour? You’re not alone.

3. Something for when you want to connect with your words but can’t seem to make it a priority. Maybe accountability in a judgement-free community is the answer to taking action? You’re not alone.