Author Archives: Kim Colella

Attunement

My full “Yes!”
Bellows from my Soul.
Attune my Astral Body.
Raise my vibration so that
I may live life
More Fully,
More Authentically,
More Powerfully,
Myself.

Sing in me a new Song,
So beautiful and true,
That the old, slow tune
Of my past existence,
No longer resonates in
This new place of myself.

Breathe into me the
Story of my life path
With such force that it
Takes my breath away
And I gulp…
I gulp in this new reality
Of ME,
Fully Lived.

Grief

DSC_2750Grief… What do you want of me?
We want your tears
Bottled deep inside
Poured out
And released.
You may not hold them hostage any longer.
They are the expression
of love poured out,
an expression of loss so deep
it cannot be dealt with
in a day
or week
or month.

We demand your full bodied release
Of all your pain and suffering.
We call you to release those deep moans
Of your despair.
We need you to be strong no more,
But to be weak…
So weak that you crumble
And allow life to hold and support you.

You cannot move through this
With mere determination and focus.
It will take surrender to
Being present
To the deep despair,
the fear,
the pain,
And sorrow
Inside you.

KARE
2/06


In December of 2004, my son, Sam made glycerin soap for family and friends for Christmas. Sam was 6 years old and he was able to do about 85% of the project by himself. This gave him an incredible sense of accomplishment. After he had made over 60 soaps, he turned to me one day and asked if he could make a soap for each of his classmates. I looked at him and said, “Sam, you have 22 classmates.” He simply replied, “I know.” I reluctantly agreed and we set to work making more soap.

I brought the soap to Sam’s school the Thursday afternoon before winter break. I put a soap in each child’s cubby and then set out to help his teacher with the kid’s folders. As I was working, a little girl noticed the soap in her cubby. She looked at me and asked, “What is this?” I told her it was a bar of soap that Sam had made for her. She looked at me with the most vulnerable expression and asked, “Sam made this for me?” “Yes, and he chose that animal in the soap just for you.” I watched her tenderly take her soap and show it to her classmates. To each person she said, “Look what Sam made for me.” Not in a boastful way, but with a sense of awe and wonder.

I teared up many times that afternoon as I witnessed Sam’s classmates respond to their soap. When we got home I said to Sam, “Sam, could you believe how much your classmates liked your soap?” “Yea, Mom, Donovan said Sam Rocks!” “Wasn’t that something, Sam?” “Mom, that was AWESOME!” It was the first time Sam really got what it means to give of yourself and to have it received. It was tremendously powerful.

Ten days later we learned that a tsunami had devastated Southeast Asia. We talked about what we, as a family, felt we could do and decided to send money right away. I researched relief agencies and sent our small pittance via the internet. After I sent it, I felt impotent. That’s all we were going to do? Millions of people’s lives had been devastated and we were going to send a little money? I sat with this for 2 days and on the third day I posed a question to Sam. “Sam what if we made soap and sold it to raise money for the tsunami clean up efforts?” “OK, Mom, that’d be good” ”Sam, how much money do you think we could raise?” He put his hand on his chin and thought. Then he looked at me out of the side of his eyes and using his pointer finger for emphasis said, “I bet we could raise $200.00.” “What about $1000.00. Do you think we could make $1000.00, Sam?” “Oh, Mom, That would be impossible!” “Maybe not, Sam. If we got your friends to help us, and got other kids involved we could easily make 350 bars. If we sold them for $3.00 a bar we would raise $1,050.00. He thought for a while and then he looked at me and said, “Mom, I’m not even going to guess.”

That afternoon we started the Tsunami Soap Project. Over 400 young people participated in the Tsunami Soap Project. These children came from 4 schools, 1 Cub Scout Group and 2 Neighborhoods. Through their collective efforts they made over 1800 bars of soap and raised over $6000.00 to help with Tsunami Relief. Each group that made and sold soap chose the relief agency where they sent their funds. Monies went to Mercy Corps, Catholic Relief Services, Unicef, Oxfam, and World Vision.

This project gave our children the opportunity to reach out and do something at a time when they, like us, felt so powerless. It taught them that  they can have an impact when they put their energies together. And it showed them that they really can make a difference.


Christmas Magic

When I was a child, as the days of autumn shortened and the nights lengthened we would settle into our home and begin to bake. Cranberry bread, nut loaf, banana bread, sugar cookies, fudge, green cornflake wreaths, and rice Krispies snow men would line the cupboards. It was a quiet, busy time of preparation all leading up to the most magical night of the year, Christmas Eve.

The ritual of Christmas Eve was always the same. It would begin with a feast: steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, sautéed mushrooms and onions, frozen corn, and rolls. When dinner ended, us little ones would hurry off to our baths. Once our hair was squeaky clean and our bodies scrubbed, we would wrap our bodies in a towel and rush to our bedrooms. There we would squeal with delight as we found new pajamas. Once again, the elves had snuck in our bedroom window as we bathed, and left new pajamas on our pillow. We would quickly put them on and run to model them in the dining room, where the adults sat enjoying Christmas cookies. After a cookie or two, we put out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa. Then we were marched upstairs to bed, where we were warned that if we did not fall asleep, then Santa could not come.

And so we waited for Christmas to come. We had gone to bed to a house that was filled with the delicious aromas of our feast, but otherwise looked the same. And when we finally fell asleep and Santa arrived, he not only brought presents, but he turned our home into the magic of Christmas. He would place a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and decorate it with lights, ornaments and tinsel. He would hang streamers in the dining room and mistletoe in the doorways, and a twinkling elf in the window. Christmas had arrived!

One of the adults would then rush up the stairs yelling to us, “Hurry, Hurry! Santa is just leaving. If you are quick you might see him on the roof!” In our sleepy daze we would run to the window near the steps that looked out over the roof where our chimney stood and through the ice would try and try to search for a sign of Santa. We were always a little too slow and a little too late and every year we just missed him. There was no time for disappointment; however, because we knew that just down those stairs the magic of Christmas awaited us. As we ran down the stairs and burst through the door there it was. There it was! The tree, the lights, the music, and piles and piles of presents, Christmas had come.

Now as an adult, with a little boy of my own, we still use the dark time of year to prepare for the light of Christmas. We bake our favorite Christmas treats and wait for the light to return. We have decided that it is too much work for Santa to decorate our tree and house and deliver gifts not only to our house but to everyone else’s, too. So we help him out by decorating our home and tree on the Winter Solstice, Dec. 21st. On Christmas Eve, we take our showers and baths before, instead of after, dinner and those elves have managed to find me every year, no matter where I have traveled or lived. Each year they still delight me and now my husband and son as well, with warm and cuddly new pajamas. Our dinner is still a feast that includes steak and mushrooms and onions. New traditions have emerged and have been added to the old, creating our own unique family tradition. And the magic remains.

And so, during this Christmas season, I honor Santa’s beloved elf, Jane. With deep gratitude I give thanks for her light that still shines.

My dear mom, Jane,
died on Sept. 14, 2005.
Her spirit of magic and surprise lives on.
Merry Christmas.

“The light still shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has never put it out.”
-John 1:5

You’re God, Mommy

One lazy morning, as you and I snuggled in bed, I whispered to you, “Sam, do you ever see your angels or guides around you?” Startled by such a question, you quickly replied, “No!” “How about God, do you ever feel God’s presence deep inside you?” Your eyes softened and with such tenderness you looked at me and said, “When I’m with you, Mommy.” Then you snuggled in closer and hugging my arm you whispered, “You’re God, Mommy.”

Energy rushed through me and before thinking I blurted out, “Oh no, Sam. God loves you even more than I do.” Shaking your head back and forth you replied “That’s not possible, Mom.”

My heart almost burst with love for you. “Oh, Sam, you are right. I love you so, so much. How could God possibly love you any more than I do? It is not possible. But God’s love is more pure. Sometimes I get impatient with you or I get intolerant or frustrated. Sometimes, I growl at you and get cranky. Sometimes I get distracted and forget to take you in. I forget to listen and be present to you. God doesn’t, Sam. God is always present, always loving and always delighting in you just the way you are. “

I could barely breathe as we finished our conversation. I lay their holding you in my arms overwhelmed by the deep realization that as your parent, I am your first experience of the divine. How I parent you will forever color how you relate to God. My deep prayer became that I would introduce you to a God who is loving, warm, compassionate, forgiving, fun, creative, spontaneous and loving. I wanted you to know a God who would allow you to make you own choices and to enjoy or suffer through their natural consequences. I wanted you to know that God lives deep inside you and that you would discover God’s voice in the deepest yearnings of your heart. In the deep quiet voice within you, there you will find God.

You are your child’s first experience of the divine. In their young world you are all powerful. How you parent your children will forever color their experience of God.
-KARE
July, 2004

Thank You

Dear Friends and Family,

It has been three weeks since I returned home from South Africa. There is still so much to process, yet life has a way of pulling me back into the flow of daily living. Since I returned, Niko and I have had a five day flu, Sam caught a cold which became walking pneumonia, he fractured his wrist, got his first cast and lost his first tooth. It has been a busy time.

Each of you have been on my mind daily, both while on the trip and since returning. I am so grateful for your generosity and support. Some of you sent money, some of you sent prayers, some of you read the online journal and stayed a breast of what was happening each day, some of you did all three. I cannot thank you enough. Your support allowed me to follow a dream and to have my heart cracked open by the people of South Africa. I am forever grateful.

While I was in South Africa, we visited 4 orphanages, 2 hospices, 3 home based care programs, 2 hospitals, a rural clinic which serves 55,000 people, an elementary school and a feeding program. We also spent 2 days at a game park marveling at the beauty of the land and its animals, a day at the apartheid museum and a day at the Freedom Day Celebration, which celebrated the 10 year anniversary of the end of apartheid. The people were so beautiful and welcoming. Consistently, I felt them draw us right into the center of their celebrations and their lives.

Your generosity not only provided for all my fixed expenses of this trip, but because of the outpouring of your support I was also able to donate funds in honor of you to the following organizations and individuals:
Mother Theresa’s Aids Hospice $550.00
Cotlins Orphanage $200.00
Soweto Hospice $500.00
Orthowandi Orphanage $365.00
Franciscan Missionaries $500.00
Cora’s program in the townships $435.00
School Fees for children in Lawley Township $235.00
School fees for children in KwaZulu Natal $365.00
Backpacks for home health care workers in Kwazulu Natal $200.00

I also distributed the following item you donated and I took with me in my suitcase:
350 Beanie Babies to the children
590 polaroid pictures to children and adults – many whom were moved to
giggles or tears at seeing their picture develop.
80 boxes of crayons to the elementary school in KwaZulu Natal
30 bed protectors to individuals and hospice programs
75 sheets to individuals and hospice programs
10 finger puppets to Cora’s program
Beautiful Scarves and Jewelry to over 50 of the heroic women we met

I made sure that these individuals and organizations knew that these donations came not from me, but from all of you. They were very moved by your kindness and generosity.

Again, I thank you. You are a people of hope, a people of compassion, a people of light. I am so grateful for your bright and beautiful presence in my life.

May God Bless You,

A week after returning

I am tired – bone tired.
So tired I’d like to stay in bed for days
Easing in and out of sleep.
My eyes are heavy.
My stomach twists in knots.
My diaphragm constricts.
My breath is short and shallow,
Preventing me from going deeper
Into my sadness and shame.

What am I ashamed of?
Having so much,
Still yearning towards more,
The constant hunger for more.

I am so impatient
And I have so much.
I should be giggling with glee at my great fortune.
Instead I lament in not enoughness.

Breathe in deeper.
Deeper still.
Breathe into that place where scarcity
Cannot mask your grief.
Sit quietly as you did with Empho
And feel the gift of grief.

Grieve for the children,
Gift and Rose.
Grieve for the mothers
dying in their beds
as their children work from dawn to dusk to feed them.
Grieve for the 1 out of 3 babies
who will not see their first birthdays.
Grieve for the 80% of adults who are unemployed
and awake each day “without a purpose”.
Grieve for the children sharing sexual favors for food.
Grieve for the women who don’t dare ask their husbands to use a condom.
He will only banish her from her home
and have sex with wife number 2.
Grieve for the women who work 8 hours a day,
each day, as volunteers
caring for those who are dying.
Grieve for Cora who goes into the townships day after day
as her grief and anger challenge her sanity.
Grieve for the little girls who are raped,
the children with no parents,
the little boys who will never know a father.

And then, Celebrate the Abundance
of light in Sam’s eyes,
of steady work for Niko and I,
for a husband I trust, love and respect,
and who trusts, loves, and respects me,
for our beautiful home and strong community,
for a refrigerator that is full,
for gas heat,
electricity,
running water,
a toilet,
for too much stuff and the luxury of purging,
for health and the inconvenience of a 5 day flu,
for the burst of color in our garden,
for the opportunities to learn and grow and be me.

So much,
So much,
So many gifts given me.
God, help me to be
a good steward.




10 Years of Freedom

Today was amazing! We went to Pretoria for the 10 year anniversary of freedom! We got off the bus and began following the crowd down Church street toward the Union hall. People began to chant and clap and march/dance down the street. Tears streamed down my face as I marched with them. I was so moved by the pride and joy of the South African people. As we got closer to the area where the speeched and concert would be held men climbed up in trees while the women set up camp underneath. As far as I could see in all directions there was a sea of black faces. Throughout the whole day, I saw less than 50 white people including the 12 in my group.

We stood as a group near two trees and watched the people go by. People would smile, some would look at us curiously and others would clap or shake our hands. Once they saw our cameras they would crowd together in the hopes of getting their pictures taken. The African people, we have met have loved having their photos taken.

As it got closer to noon we followed the others into the crowd to get a view of the stage. So many people. We found a spot where we could see the big screens of what was happening. A beautiful young South African women kept sneaking glimpses my way. When I said hello, her face broke into a huge smile. We began to visit. Her name is Charmane and she has another name which means it is full or complete. She is 13 years old and she had traveled 3 hours by bus with her father to be at this celebration. As we took in the sights together, she wrapped her arms around Pennye and I. Her face was filled with wonder. As we left, I slipped a turquoise ring on her finger. She grabbed me and hugged me tightly, then she looked into my eyes and said, “I love you.”

Pennye, Lynn and I got our faces painted. Pennye had the S. African flag painted on her right cheek. Lynn and I had the flag on one cheek, “10” on our foreheads and “years” on our left cheek. People seemed surprised and amused by us and would reach out and clasp our hands or stop to visit with us.

As we left the celebration we stopped to watch a group of ZULU women dancing and were encouraged to join them. I felt too shy and just danced form the sideline.

Earlier, Lynn and I had wondered over to a watch a circle of people singing and dancing. As we got close to them a man grabbed Lynn’s hand and another grabbed mine. They then danced us into the center of the circle to dance with the people. All around us were people singing a freedom chant. It was incredibly powerful.

On our way back to the bus, a reporter stopped our group and asked if they could interview us for SA NBC Radio. Pennye and I were interviewed about our experience of the celebration and our impressions of the city of Pretoria.

As we headed back down Church Street to our bus, people were still marching up and down the street, carrying the S. African flag and chanting freedom chants. I stood 100 feet in front of the crowd as they marched toward me to get a picture. Before I knew it they had grabbed our hands in joy and friendship and brought us into the center of their celebration, clapping our hands, dancing with us to their songs of freedom.

I am overwhelmed by the beauty of these people. They have been so open and welcoming to us. Their pride in being S. African is inspiring, their joy is contagious and their sense of welcome brings me to tears.