Mum, Don't half exist.

Why aren't you dancing? Why are you a stranger on the internet?

I’m in my head this morning.

Only one shot of coffee down instead of two.

My husbands “grand idea” to support my womb about to bleed any day now.

You know.

Help balancing hormones.

Bless him, but also… premenstrual caffeine is somewhat balm to my spirit in these early mornings of mothering at 5.30 am.

I’ve never been a morning person.

I wish. I judge with envy when my gal pals would be up at the crack of dawn going for their sunrise run (

Brittany Wilde

looking at you. Or tea ceremony

Ayana Goet

… also you)

I didn’t wish I was running. I was wishing I had the DESIRE to run. Desire to do anything with energy and a positive morning attitude really.

Instead, I had an incredibly strong desire (and very positive attitude) towards staying under big thick duvets, and keep my half naked body warm and cosy for as long as possible.

Until.

Kids.

Now, my brain has to turn on before my eyes open.

I did wake up to a sloppy smooch on my face the other morning. It was almost endearing. It also felt like a slug on my face. You know when the dreamscape merges with sounds and sensations from real life?

The desire is still there.
I just can’t act on it.

Turns out when you’re about to bleed you need significantly more hours sleep.

I am regretting my midnight galavants of the online world right about now.

One shot of coffee, 7am. We get to the park.

My husband and I have another grand idea.

Let’s have half an hour present family time, then sneak off and take 30 minutes each to journal and clear our heads for the day.

Deal.

He goes first and I have a beautiful time with the boys rolling their toy cars down a hill in the park.

The park is lush green and quiet. The grass still wet from the summer rains. We are all barefoot and fresh out of bed but there’s nobody around. Always a gamble leaving the house first thing with kids. You’re either alone in society feeling like queen of the park with your little princes. Or you run into every other disheveled parent you know, having the same idea as you.

This morning, I was queen.
Until it was my turn to journal and those summer rains poured back down at 8am and had us all huddled under the shelter. Rafi got sad that the woman who just rocked up with a rainbow birthday cake, actually wasn’t there to surprise him. Not my idea of a relaxing morning to sip my diluted coffee.

My kids kept talking to me (Because clearly I was somewhat available right? I mean I was half a meter away with my headphones in and Art of Alchemy playlist up loud.)

Every 3 seconds I’d need to take a headphone out and nod enthusiastically.

My head was full of things that I didn't get on paper.

I’m in the final 4 days of a launch period, so there’s usually a bit to do. From writing emails, to having the online platform backend things all sorted. A welcome video, finalising $9000 worth of scholarship emails. Social media posts. The works.

We get In the car. I request to drive so that I don’t end up on my knees with my left boob wrapped around the carseat feeding my son the entire way home.

Dads turn to entertain.

I can’t get out of my head.

I turn on the radio to see what’s on. (I understand for most of you, you’d just plug a phone in and choose your favourite song, but I prefer to live in the Stone Age.)

Normally we go for classical but today there was an RNB banger.

You know, the sort that your body normally gives a visceral reaction to.

I’m having a bop when my almost 5 year old calls out from the back.

“MUUUUMMM, WHY AREN’T YOU DANCING?!”

I look down to my body. Oh yeah. Stagnant as fuck.

My brain was half dancing. My body hadn’t moved a muscle.
In fact my shoulders were tense and I was still stress driving.

Thanks for the reminder kid.

So, Naturally I start grooving. The song infiltrating my defences.

By the time I got home, my entire mood and state had shifted. Turns out a half strength coffee, a good song and an innocent observation from a curious little one was enough.

I walked along my windy little stone path towards my home noticing how I had half been in the morning. I could have been all in, but I was half in my head. Half in the play. Half waiting for my solo journal time. Half complaining about coffee and half enjoying the rain. Half laughing with my kids.

Half dancing on the drive home.

I’m not a half kinda woman.

I’m an all in kind of woman. Because it’s actually more enlivening to be ALL in and more exhausting to be half everywhere at once.

It had me reflecting on all the places I half exist.

It had me reflecting on all the places YOU half exist.

So, I wrote this for us all…

“You want me to be a stranger on the internet, that you can half pay attention to.

Half scrolling to sleep.

You're half distracted with your kids

Half in your business offerings that you promised your partner would take off this year.

Half in your hobbies

And half wanting to make money.

You're half prioritising the time to connect to yourself intuitively.

You used to have rituals.

Now, you’re half there half not.

Half in the moment and half caught up in your future dreams, that you half believe will happen.

You also half believe life will be the same and you won’t abandon the loops you’re in.

You are half interested in growing and half interested accepting yourself as is.

Half into the slow life and half connected to ambition.

You are feeling half alive and half like you’re caught in the most mundane years of your life.

You half want to make love and you half want to be completely alone to write?

You half want to orgasm, half want to nap.

Half here to hold the family, half want someone else to take the lead.

You’re half sick of it, half in fucking love with it.

You half want to make. To create. Half interested in making content, or podcasting, programs or substack. Half into seeing clients or selling products,

Whatever it is - You half truly want it to work.

Because you half need it to breathe. But the other half of you is okay with the suffocation of not creating. It’s only a season.

Babe, it’s only half your life.

Don’t be a half woman.

With half connected friendships, and half enjoyable coffee.

Half dreams, and Half ideas.

Never bringing them to life.

Don’t be content with sabotaging yourself half the time.
Believing in yourself half the time.

Questioning yourself half the time.

Looking back, in half a decade,

wondering where half your aliveness has disappeared to.

Don’t scroll past me, a half stranger on the internet.

Someone you half know a bit about, and half don’t know at all.

Half hiding, half reading, half following, half being a creep never talking.

Come.

Play.
Interact.

Play the social game.

I am not a half strength woman.

With half strength coffee.

With half dreams.

Half presence.

Half connected to my essence.

I’m an all in sort of woman.
Claim my dreams and pull them down from the sky sort of woman.

Sleep in because I stayed up late at night.

Create and write, make and cry

because I’m a multifaceted woman.

A attuned to my children,

intuitive in the present moment

guided by devotion type of woman.

Devotion isn’t a half dose thing.

It’s a woman, going all in.

Love Kat.

PS . Art of Alchemy is in her FINAL 4 days of being open for enrolments before doors shut forever.

Don’t be half in half out.

Jump two feet in with us and be two feet in your life, with your children, In your creations, in your home. Be two feet in making $ and connecting with other like hearted mothers.

Don’t half decide to look at the module break down.
Set a reminder on your phone and come click this link once the kids are down tonight…

Or better yet, take a look now.

Don’t tell yourself you’ll come back in a couple of days. The half interest will mean you’ll FULLY not be a part of this final round.

The witches are gathering.

It’s not the time to be on the fence. Grab your broomstick.

Business energetics await.

Mamas make magic. Let’s go.