My name is Keely and I’m a student of the human condition.

I’m deeply fascinated by the experience of being a human on Earth, largely because I used to hate being a human on this planet and now I delight in it. The ancestral lineage I inherited was full of people who did not enjoy their visit to Earth School and occasionally checked out early via suicide or lost decades of their life to chronic depression.

I struggled with addiction and chronic depression myself, then was lucky enough to find a path out.

One of my shamanic teachers, a woman I deeply respect and admire, gave me the soul assignment of sharing what I’ve learned during my time here. It happened during a plant medicine ceremony when I said that I was ready to step down from running a business and embrace the writer’s path.

It’s an assignment that feels warm and fuzzy, far more like a permission slip than a chore, so I’m all in. It has a touch of “mmm, this could be my purpose in this lifetime,” which makes my spirit soar.

I love magic and mysticism and shamanism and the great wisdom traditions.

I adore writing and thinking about writing and writing about writing and spending hours alone in a quiet room.

I’m currently captivated by Human Design, the Gene Keys, enchanted living and stubborn gladness.

I’m in a fascinating chapter of life where, thanks to my husband’s job, I became an “expat wife” and now have wide open days to pursue my hobbies and interests. I’m both overwhelmingly grateful and committed to living in “ayni,” a shamanic principle that means “sacred reciprocity.” My hubby, his employer and the Universe gave me a precious gift and it’s important to me to be a good steward of what I’ve received.

I offer shamanic energy medicine sessions and Human Design readings in the afternoon, which (currently) means my practice is available to people who live in Asia, Oceania, Europe and Africa since I live in China.

At some point in the next few decades, I suspect I will publish a book called “How to Human: The Instruction Manual You Would Have Gotten From Your Elders if Our Society Sucked Less.”

I boldly proclaimed I was going to do that this year, then my entire writing routine fell apart because it felt overwhelming instead of fun.

I missed what I got from my writing practice, so I pulled back a bit. I’m continuing with my “Morning Musings” practice, where I wake up, put my fingers on the keyboard and see what comes up, while also (probably) working on a smaller instruction manual: a “How to Human” guidebook for people who struggle with the specific type of depression I had.

If you know anyone who struggles with high-functioning depression (the kind where you have a job, pay your bills and look alright on the outside but can’t connect to that essential spark that makes being a human joyful, rewarding and fulfilling), I’d appreciate you telling them about my work. The solutions that work for other kinds of depression don’t often work for high-functioning depression and I’d like to share the guidebook with them when it’s ready. There’s a path out and that’s important to know.

Beyond that, the basic thing that I do with my writing is try to connect. I trust that “the more personal you get, the more universal it becomes,” so I write about the microcosm of one human life and hope that it comes across as an invitation rather than a self-indulgent yawning on. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t.

I wrote this today because I needed help remembering what I was doing, then I published it because I think it’s important to tell your friends your hopes and dreams. To share your why. To create the space to connect over what matters most to you.

In turn, this prompts me to ask you Mary Oliver’s famous question: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

In hope,

Keely

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