Tag Archives: love


The funny thing about taking a class centered around the phenomenon of love is that you start to think about love much more objectively and often.

The funny thing about reading more poetry is that you start to view life in verse.

Put both of those things together and you’ve got a full-blown, cheesed out disaster on your hands. That disaster is currently me.

Hi, my name is Kallie.

Today two things happened–I slipped and fell supremely hard in the morning, and almost cried in class in the afternoon.

And I went to Costco, but that is something entirely different.

My professor of said class said something that just resonated with me so entirely that I was suddenly overcome with emotion and had to fight back tears without consciously knowing why. What is it that he said you might be wondering, and seeing as I exist to satisfy your desires I will comply and promptly inform you.

He essentially said that when you love someone, they inhabit you. They are always with you no matter where you go, and everything that you experience you do so together, physically or otherwise.

He moved onto other related topics and as I glanced around the room all I saw were typical glazed expressions of young adults yearning for freedom from class. I resonated so fully with this idea, however, that I began to jot down my thoughts regarding the concept.

As I wrote, new worlds of realization unfolded before me. If loving someone gives them residence within a portion of your being, then the removal of that person (whether it be a romantic partner, a mother, a friend, a pet, etc) from your life could be equated with an amputation. This amputation hurts in that particular way that we all recognize but is essentially indescribable through language. If you removed an arm, or a liver, you would be given massive doses of medication to stamp out the pain but those afflicted with this disease of being go without such assistance. You might feel that phantom limb perpetually haunting you, an ache for a piece of you that is no more.

It is comforting in a way, to realize that losing a loved one–of any nature–is essentially amputating a portion of your being, yanking out a necessary appendage. It makes me feel better, no doubt.

The following are responses I wrote for aforementioned class:


When you are with everyone but me,

you’re with no one

When you are with no one but me,

you’re with everyone

Instead of being so bound with with everyone,

be everyone

When you become that many, you’re nothing.




Philosophy of Soup

I have this theory and before you ask, yes it does involve soup. of course.

It goes a little something like this..

When your world becomes turbulent, insisting on violently tossing you about  and you can’t quite seem to grasp any shred of normalcy there is only one remedy to set your mind straight.

Step one: Breathe. Take one of those deep, life changing breaths that center you and invigorate you more than any cup of coffee could possibly accomplish.

Step two: Put on your apron, slippers, put on some jazz, and gather your gaggle of vegetables.

Step three: Chop your little heart out–dice your frustrations out on the cutting board. As the carrots, potatoes, zucchinis fall away into little fragments under your knife and your multicolored army swells across your counter begin to toss them into a large, bubbling pot. Your troubles will evaporate with the sensational smell of your comforting creation.

Step four: Have a glass of wine..or two..while you patiently await the soup to form.

Step five: Eagerly ladle a bowl far to large for common sense, sit down, close your eyes, and enjoy.

There is something about that first steaming bowl of jumbled goodness created by you that is comforting and satisfying in a way that escapes definition. People ask why I talk about soup in a mildly obsessive manner, it is rather bizarre I realize, but it really comes down to this indescribable correlation associated with safety and love that is perpetually nestled in my brain .

Though I have paralled the soup experience with..other things..my affinity for this mind-mending method stems from something much deeper. There is never a time when soup will not fix a bad day.

So. On the darkest days when your head is hopelessly tangled in knots that you cannot even fathom beginning to unravel, give it a try. This simple act is essentially a reminder to slow down, meditiate upon the simple beauty of the world.

Plus, you get to eat at the end–and honestly what is better than that?



I lucked out, I have a mom and a step mom. (and a dad and a step dad, but thats not the point today) who are both awesome. Happy mother’s day! :)