what doesn't need an ounce of fixing

there is no real cure to a vulnerability hangover. there are only options of how you choose to be with your hangover: running, screaming, kicking... avoiding, numbing, nursing... laughing, crying, chatting... breathing, breathing, breathing.

i'm currently bouncing back and forth between all these ways of being (and more). i'm totally over-exposed in more ways than even you can see. but i'm lucky enough to have people tell me that this is good. that nothing is wrong here. that it's perfect and powerful, and whatever i think i need is absolutely correct. (it's helpful to receive unconditional positive regard, you know?)

my god sent salvation is that i feel like even in this space of total exposure and massive dream-manifesting, there's still room to play. there's an element of complete "fuck it! why not?!" that's really serving me, so long as i remember to laugh.

playing may be the number one remedy to a vulnerability hangover--a remedy that doesn't cure, but just makes all the "bigness" feel less important. what i know is whenever jen leaps across the floor in her cute sweater dress and five-year-old face, i feel better.

do you think something is happening in the universe that has us all pushing everything out with more umph than we thought we had in us? were we all constipated for most 2011, and now finally getting the relief of a huge, massive, dump?? (or is it just me?)

my next dance video is still a few days away. i just wanted to check in here and speak to the effects of being so "out there". i'm assuring us both that whatever residual feelings may be bubbling to the surface are totally fine. beautiful, even. a sign that real movement and change is happening. just keep playing with it.

bravissimo to us all!

with love, trembling and gratitude,
rachael