Reporting the Truth

Truth 1: this self portrait is totally outdated. I cut my hair to a 1inch disaster-puff, and I've been too echhhed out about it to take any pictures of myself! Truth 2: I'm still learning how to focus my lens correctly. Truth 3: I just now considered replacing this picture with a more focused one so I could take out that second truth. ;)

Ha. Hahaha.

Guess what hit me the other day?

I don't really want to report the truth. I want to report the hope. The wish. The way I want things to be, but not necessarily the way things really are. You with me on this? I have a feeling you might be. Since I realized this about myself, I've been listening more closely to what I tell people in person, online, over the phone. There are few souls I trust enough to spill the real beans from the moment we say "hello". I'd like to keep the picture pretty. "Things are just so great with so and so and such and such... Yeah, little struggles here and there... But everything's totally solid... Totally under control." Yes, that's it. I want you to think I've got it all under control, I'm holding it all together, and I think my imperfections are, well, perfect. Reality check: I'm not that enlightened, folks.

Guess what really surprised me though? The first person I put the front on to, is myself.

I have lots of theories about why I do this. But I'm running out the door (to my first every life coaching training, which I'm nervous for, by the way!) so I want to cut right to the chase.

My fear that gets in the way of spilling the honest truth from the get is this:

If I tell my 100% truth, 100% of the time*, will I still be worthy of love?

Really. Let's pause for a second with this. I am at times terrified that telling my 100% truth, 100% of the time means that love will be totally lost on me, and I will plummet into an isolation so vast that loneliness and desperation will be all that I know. Now, I'm overstating things a little bit, it's not that bad most of the time (really). But sometimes, especially when I'm triggered by old fears, that overstatement becomes an unspeakable truth and my terror is nothing short of breathtaking.

Luckily, there's a 2 part short-end answer that's saving my soul right now. It's not fully vetted, but it's a start, and it's helping me.

1. Beneath the ego's responses to truth (our own and others', admitted or perceived) is a well of love that's deep & vast. That well of love is the home of our truest, freest, happiest, best selves. We are always journeying back to that place, into that space. So, whether or not we're touching love on the surface, we are connected to a deeper love at all times. It's that love, the love that comes from the soul of the earth, that we are always worthy of and able to embody, just as soon as we open up to it. That love, the love that some call God or the Universe or Bliss, that love is always waiting for us.

2. Opening up to love that vast can be terrifying because, for most of us, it's not our normal pattern. We're not accustomed to sinking beneath the ego, into our highest selves, into the infinity of blissed out existence. We have no clue where that will take us, if we'll like it or feel comfortable there, or even how the heck to "open to it" in the first place. SO--Any time we choose that opening, we are choosing a huge, unbelievable courage. And any time we choose courage--in even small and unseemly ways--we deserve a big fat celebration. (And there are so many ways we choose courage every day, mostly without our ever recognizing or crediting it...Expect a list soon). We deserve a celebration that rewards our inner kid, that enlivens our excitement for life, that encourages our enthusiasm and spunk. Fear is far too easy to sink into when we forget to reward ourselves for courage. So celebrate we must!

Tonight, after my coaching training, I plan on doing something that my 10 year old self would absolutely go crazy over. Not just to celebrate my courage around beginning this training (although that's definitely part of it), but also to celebrate the endless courage I've been practicing lately in my partnership, in my own coaching practice, with our bike adventure and more. I don't quite know what the celebration will be just yet, because my 10 year old self liked spontaneous decisions. But there will likely be bright colors, or at the very least, bright ideas.

And friends--I've got a lot more practice to go on the Truth Reporting front. It's an intention of mine, and one I'm less afraid of when I remember the well of love that resides within us all. Mostly, it feels good to be more true. It feels a whole lot closer to love.

Do you feel me on this? Do you struggle with reporting the whole truth, freely? If so--what's your hold up? And do you have ways of celebrating your courage? If so--do share! I love me a good celebration ;)

big love,
rachael

*Credit Kate Swaboda's amazingness.

I am

i am slowly stepping into truer versions of myself
i am discovering that all my power still feels beyond comprehension, but not beyond use
i am confident that my place in the world is this place--right here, right now
i am becoming more and more comfortable with exactly where i am, and how
i am still taunted by doubt, fear, shame, and insecurity
i am manifesting love with gratitude over & over again
i am taking small and strong steps every single day
i am surrounded by things that are more beautiful than i can even comprehend
i am reminded daily of all the heartache and dismal realities that need so much healing & tenderness & attention
i am committed to giving as much attention as i can bare--to my own heart & our collective one
i am not exempt from imperfection, and so very glad to be human
i am happy, simply, to be alive, to "be anything at all"
i am practicing an unraveling, an opening, an acceptance to all that is
i am listening for how acceptance transforms into action
i am shedding back the layers, stripping down, getting into the core
i am hopeful that offering myself as a tool for healing is enough
i am here to live with integrity and passion and purpose and love
i am thankful beyond words

this is where i am today, loves. i'm also inside a terrible hair cut (1 inch! self imposed! yikes!) that i'm mostly chuckling at and sometimes feeling really bad about. where are you? how are you? i'd love to know. really.

it's funny how much i need these kinds of lists and practices. i'm not even quite sure why. but something about laying out exactly how i'm feeling or where i am helps keep me centered and hopeful and trusting that all is well and i'm "on track". even on the occasions of dreary or uncertain lists--i feel glad to process, to get it all out. i hope it doesn't seem too self-indulgent or consumed or whatever. i share because there's power in knowing we're not alone in whatever the heck we're feeling. and there's power in showing up as we are. there's power in shedding back the image and getting into the thick of truth. i'm not even sure if i'm any good at that very thing in the blogosphere--but i'm trying. as a service to myself and as a service to anyone else who needs to hear something real.

this blog has mostly been a space for self-development, and i'm becoming more and more aware & accepting of that. as of now, that's what it will remain as i continue to explore my strengths and purpose.

do you have any ideas, by the way? if you've been reading this blog for a while, what do you enjoy the most? what would you most wish to see? do you even care? are you just happy coming to visit & see where i'm at? (i wonder if that really serves a purpose?) as i clarify what i'm really doing here (expressing my own heart/needs/hopes/fears for all to see), it's got me curious about if there's a better way i could go about being present online. ya know? well--your suggestions are welcome. i'll be thinking about it.

alrighty...i'm hungry and can't avoid lunch for a minute longer! how are you? let me know.

big love,
rachael

You can

authenticity

it's such a "played out" word in the blogosphere. but it matters. our unique struggles and stories and victories and ways that we are survivors--they matter so so much. they are the thread of truth that connect us to the blanket we're meant to be comforted in--the blanket of our people. kelly rae roberts wrote about it today. she was so on point.

i just found a little dish of prayers i wrote to the universe a year or so ago, all rolled up and scribbled onto tiny pieces of paper. unraveling each paper, i realized how much beauty and truth each prayer held. they were for my eyes only (and the meek possibility of something greater that just might care what this little heart was hoping for), and within that context, i let my guard down and simply said what needed to be said, asked the real questions, hoped my real hopes. i was simply myself in those prayers. vulnerable. hopeful. sometimes sad. honest. powerful beyond my knowing.

i want to share some of these prayers with you today. because they're peeks into the truth of the questions i had around this time last year. and for me, they're a source of hope. so many of these prayers made manifest. i won't attribute the cause of their manifestation to any one thing in particular--but i will say there is power in laying out our unique and authentic truth--in admitting what our dear souls really long for. maybe that's enough to turn more wheels than we can see--to generate awareness of and openness to the life we've only secretly or subconsciously wished so.

so, here are some prayers that have been answered in ways beyond my imagination over the past year or two...

dear universe,
do you want me to end my relationship with loneliness? if i do, what will i have left with myself? is there room in my life for true love, true friendship and true work?
thanks,
rach

dear universe,
will you let me know if i belong? will you help me find my tribe? will you send me some self-love & healing?
thank you so much.
love,
rachael

dear universe,
i'm worried that i'm not doing enough with my life right now. like i'm choosing to be a "bum". will you help me know if this is true or not?
i want to have a positive influence on the world each day. can you help me trust that i'm on the right track? or maybe already there? can you help me believe that i'm doing just fine?
yours truly,
rachie leigh
ps-i think i'm creating an important clearing right now. what else needs to be cleared?

there are dozens more of where that came from, but that's not the point. the point is this, loves... do you have prayers to write? real true questions your heart's spilling over? go ahead. for your eyes only. speak your truth. let your heart lay down in authenticity. you deserve it. you can do it. and it feels damn good, you know... being yourself in all it's gory goodness. especially when you can give up on the bullying and inner-critic name calling and realize however you realize it, that you are worthy of self-love no matter what condition your "self" is in at the moment. you are worthy of kindness and tenderness and gentle love and attention. you are worthy of your authentic power, your authentic joy, your authentic purpose on earth. and--we all want that person to shine through. really.

dear you,
i love you just as you are.
and i'm rooting for you all the way.
really.
love,
rachael

ps-just in case you have any doubt or curiosity: i preach what i most need to remember. hello, self. show up as you really are. no one else is needed. thanks. ;-) this is part of who i really am. i really, truly, want us both to show up, as we really are. no please or thank you necessary. just big big love.

Courageous Beginnings::A Give Away!

Lovers, dreamers, soul-sistahs and brothahs... Kate's having a big old partay to celebrate the launch of her Courageous Living Guides, and guess who gets a prize? One lucky winner who comments on this post!

The giveaway is for the first of four Courageous Living Guides -- Courageous Beginnings -- an e-program that's all about creating a real foundation for change.

I believe so deeply in the power of starting where we are, and stepping right into our juicy truth, just as it is. Kate has an uncanny way of helping us own our stories, uncover our values, tend to our deepest needs, and transform our relationship with our Inner Critic so we can live the lives we were meant for all along.

It sounds like a lot because it is! Which is why having powerful resources to help us through is priceless.

Courageous Beginnings offers practical tools for people who are ready to take the plunge into living happier, more fulfilling lives.

In Kate's words...

This is a program of curiosity, presence, and getting to what really matters for people who want a heart-centered approach to making shifts that actually last.  

When you know that your life isn’t working, and it hasn’t been working for awhile, this is the place to start. 

Courageous Beginnings is nearly 200 pages of written content and exercises, containing more than 35 lessons and 19 videos that complement lessons, plus interviews.

Wowza! Generosity = Enlivening. Kate is a maven of generosity.

Interested? Comment here by 9pm EST on Tuesday 1/11, stating one thing you're hopeful about in 2011 and your e-mail address so I can contact the winner. A winner will be chosen via random.org and announced on the night of the 11th!

*Pixie dust sprinkled! Happy commenting!*

~~~

WOO HOO! The winner is Ashley! (You're all winners, really. Thanks so much for commenting! I'm so full of hope for each of you, that your wildest dreams are already waiting...) Big love, xoxo

Gratitude from the Comfy Red Couch

There's no place I'd rather be on a Saturday afternoon than sitting on the Comfy Red Couch drinking coffee, listening to music, talking about nothing and everything with my fellow commune-mates. It's such a simple joy, being surrounded by people you love who love you back for exactly who you are. It's an enormous gift that I'm counting my blessings for day after day.

With 80 days until our Epic Bike Journey, the little things, which are really the biggest things in my life, are sketching themselves like a smiling profile against a blanketing blue sky. Brunches, dinners, chocolate chip cookies, the simple act of cleaning the kitchen, spontaneous art projects and dance parties and times we exclaim, "Yes!" to each other's wildest dreams. I'm sitting back, watching this masterpiece re-create itself over and over again, feeling immense gratitude to be part of something so beautiful.

I'm holding onto the beauty, these days especially, as we brush up against the end of an era--and the beginning of new a new one. What's to come for us, post-commune, post-Sunday Couch Sits? It's a mystery. Really. So much is unknown. But I know it's bound to be daring, bound to involve risk, and sure to shape our souls for the better. We will survive and we will thrive, because that's who we are. We show up big for this thing called Life. We step into the terror and the comfort and we hold it all with gratitude for simply being so.

These past 2 years at the Green Vine Co-op has healed my need for a certain kind of home, a certain kind of community, a certain kind of being known. And this past year, when my closest friends on earth decided that nothing mattered more than being in the same space, I was opened again to the greatest kinds of joy and power. I walked alongside believers, possibilitiarians, hopefuls, and doers. I stood in a puddle of Love. And Joy sat with us on the Comfy Red Couch because it had nowhere else to go and nothing else that mattered nearly as much.

It's true that I've got a lump of Terror in my throat over our bike trip. Who wouldn't? This is no sane or stable undertaking. It's a dream. A possibility. The result of saying Yes to that crazy look in the other's eyes. And--it's actually going to happen. Most of my biggest fears are highly manageable, but some are more like lingering truths that I'm sure will eventually surface: I'll get jaded on the road, I'll miss my friends, I'll be tired and rundown and eventually get sick, I'll go insane, I'll want to quit 2 weeks in. The big fears of either of us dying or getting seriously injured seem less real, less likely. But they're there, too.

Yesterday, on the Comfy Red Couch, we whispered our fears in between our thank you's. We took more time between sentences to just sit and be together. We felt the power and the joy of what we'd created. Something as simple and strong as tribe. Something as necessary as breathing.

And gratitude found its way into my shortened breaths, pulling them out with hope, elongating them with knowing: we chose to create this tribe once, we can chose it again. We can.

The P Word and The Movement

I've become the kind of person who can't get through the morning news without cursing at the screen. I know I'm not alone in this. So many talented friends of mine, hearts as big as Mars, can hardly stand reading the Express. So we don't.

We have our own way of gauging what's going on in the world. How many people smiled at me today? How many cold & hungry asked for spare change? How many walked past, pretending not to see? How many friends have salaried jobs, health care, and a home, right along side anxiety attacks, e-mail overload and multiple methods of numbing? How many advertisements did I get sucked into reading? How many stereotypes did I get suckered into believing? How many times did I catch myself feeling totally alone while standing amidst dozens?

They're subjective markers, sure. The opposite of fully vetted, yes. But their gauging the human & spiritual effects of a system designed for competition to beat compassion, even as it slyly uses it.

So it's hard for me to write about the Politics. How do I say it all without sounding totally lost on hope? How do I say we're being fucked by the system and also say that we can build a new one, if I'm not sure I believe it so? (Dear lord, let it be so!)

As my Twitter friend Peter S Lopez reminded me... We must not forget that we are still engaged in a process of Spiritual Healing. Sometimes News angers... Sometimes we can be counting our blessings, yet aware of hell on Earth.

Peter's right. It's not a contradiction to be thankful and enraged simultaneously. We cannot decide which realities to keep and which to ignore without ignoring an essential part of our whole hearts--a core part of our psyche that knows, there is much to undo in this world, and much that we can contribute to that undoing, to igniting a Global Renaissance of Love.

We all need that love, for our own good and for the good of all. A trampled soul has a limited fight-time defending something it's forgotten how to feel. 

Us big-hearted folks, the ones easily tampered by injustice or broken by betrayal, we've got to find our Movement. Our Movement that looks at the entire spectrum of the problem and the entire spectrum of the solution, and finds at least part of an answer in Compassion and at least another part in Solidarity. And then we've got to see how our Movement is inextricable from all other movements for empowerment and justice and love, let's not forget love.

Where are you, Movement? Must we make you? Must we be you?

I don't want to keep pretending that I can't engage in politics just because they've done their duty breaking me. I don't want to pretend that I'm broken, when there's a fire in my heart that's roaring.

Assateague Island, New Year's Night

His chest rose and crashed like waves on sand.
I lied awake listening to both,
nestling in by his side, catching his heat in mine,
cold air whistling through the damp nets of our tent.

The embers had cooled,
my giggling friends gone in slumber.
All I knew was myself,
drippy nose, eyes open, tasting the dew of the hidden moon
and my tender midnight fear.

Sometimes I like to keep the flashlight a glow
a little longer than needed
so I can lay there wondering, without falling asleep,
if I'll ever feel normal in the wild.

That night there were horses licking the bottom of my steel pan,
and old fears washed up on the shore with the shells.
The shells--the shells spoke to me with fury,
writing messages beyond paper, beyond words.

I listened, as the waves gave their soul to the sand,
as the clouds kissed purple through the sky,
as my own teeth calmed their chattering mistrust.

I lay awake next to my love,
eyes open to the peaking and retreating night.
I lay awake there in silence,
tasting strength on my tongue,
hearing songs of powerful wind--
thanking the Wild Surrender,
that I could just as soon, call my own.
Just as soon as the geese call bridges
their staircase to the sky.

A Love-Filled 2010, Bring on the Power

2010 was the most love-filled year I can remember. It wasn't without tears or anxiety or complete nervous breakdowns. There were plenty of those! But for each one, there were equal nights standing at the kitchen counter holding a dear one's hand as one of us shed those tears or confessed our aching. There was communion and listening and no-words-needed and just the right touch. There was real deep love. Love that's taken years to form and grow comfortable in. Love with housemates, best friends, new friends, strangers, Brian, and my very own heart. Love that I am so so thankful for and will never take for granted.

I chose "daring" as my word for 2010, and a daring year it was. I dared to spend a month away, re-learning what it means to feel joy. I dared to quit my soul-sucking marketing job and embrace my inner-educator and entrepreneur. I dared to read my poetry to strangers, sell my art, and begin the vibrancy that is now Small is Beautiful Arts Collective. Brian & I dared to defy norms, having a pot-luck, grass-roots, no isle or officiant, "love-fest" wedding. I dared to take my dreams more seriously in so many ways that are still unfolding as we speak. And I committed, full-heartedly, to our unbelievably daring 7 month bike adventure across and around the USA.

The funny thing is, if 2010 was full of daring experiences even before the bike trip, what could I possibly hope for in 2011?

Power. Power to do or act--to accomplish something. Power to choose how I experience my experiences. Power to change and power to accept. Power to speak and power to inspire. Power to move, push and breathe from one place to another. Power to practice without ever needing to make perfect. Power to believe that even without knowing how, even without feeling strong, even without any certainty or understanding, there is a divine power greater than I that is working on my behalf, and rooting for me (all of us, really) all the way. Power to feel gratitude for all the beauty that surrounds us--but most of all, for the way it emboldens us with courage to step into every ounce of divinity we carry.

2010, thanks for such big love. 2011, I'm ready for you. I'm ready for your power.