Creating Closure: Letters from Past Lovers, Written by... You.

(I've decided this is possible. In an infinite inside, out kinda way.)

Alright sweethearts,

Anyone else been on a crash course in dating? I've effectively fallen in lust/love with three people in the past six months. Let's not discuss my rounds on OK Cupid. Maybe, like my dad said on the phone this morning, Loneliness is some stroooong shit. The VOID... It's rough! 

I'm playing up the full moon lunar eclipse in my life, letting it ritualize the end of this 6 month exploration in rebound romance, and the beginning of a life-long love affair with my incredible, brilliant and beautiful self. YUP.

So. I needed to get out my goodbyes. We all know though that sometimes, even if you knock on the door of the past to make peace, no one answers. Sometimes, closure's up to you.

This is for you, if you want to move on with the sweet, tender, sad, holy truth as your most trusted companion:

A letter template for Creating Closure

Instructions: This is more an exercise in channeling, since you're not technically the narrator of this tale. Close your eyes for a moment and meditate on the person's energy and truth. Not what you want their energy or truth to be, but what's really there when you strip away your desires.

This person has something honest to tell you. About how they feel. About how they see you. About what they wish for you. About what they can and cannot offer. Listen up, love. Let the truth spill forth. There's freedom in it. And a lot of times, if you never listen close, you don't hear it. In the unspoken spaces, your rambling mind creates myths and mayhem that keep you in a holding pattern. It's not time for that, anymore. It's time to rest in the truth, and let it all wash out in the rain.

Dear [your name], 

Here's the truth I know you need to hear in order to move on: _______________. 

What I really have to offer is ______________. What I really can't offer is _____________.

What I really wish for you is ______________. 

I haven't had the courage to tell you ______________. 

But I think the reason why I showed up in your life is to help you learn _______________. 

I wish you all the best. Really. Truly. You deserve ______________. 

Love,

[their name] 

Here's the trick! You don't have to like what their letter says! Also, you don't have to follow this template. I wrote 5 letters to myself. One of them was two sentences. 'Cause the truth is, that guy was a minimalist. Also--your letter can be from a whole slew of people. One of mine is from "the lost boys & girls". (Boy, did they have a lot to teach me!!!)

Alright, loves. Go forth. Give yourself the moments of truth you haven't been able to get. Close the doors that need closing. It's in your power.

With all of these templates, only do them if they speak to you. There's no rush. No pressure. Be natural. It might not be time.

xoxox,
rachael

PS--This is the kind of template we might create if we work together in a coaching setting. Except personalized and tailored to your immediate situation. Hop over here to learn more.

When It's Time to Move On: Four Powerful Questions for Honoring All That's Been

How do you really move on?

I've been meditating on this question for months. It's a biggie. And there's no simple answer. The dance between moving forward and sinking in is delicate after major life blow-ups or slow-burn let downs.

Yesterday, I offered a Tough-Love letter template for when you know it's time to move forward. Today's questions are more of the sinking in variety. Contemplate. Reflect on where you've been and what you've learned. Make meaning. Make inner-peace. And reach inward for clues about where you're headed next.

Four Powerful Questions for moving through big transitions with honesty and grace:

1. Where have I been?
What land am I leaving? What happened there and with whom? What's been significant? How has it felt? Metaphorically and truly? You don't have to forget. You can tell the story of the way it's been. You can honor what's happened--because it did. It happened. It really happened. Be honest. All the way.

2. What do I want to forgive?
In myself? Others? The world? The simple-way-it-was that I'm ready to lay to rest? The idea that got killed? The let down? You don't have to hold on. You can let the rage in your heart unwind. You can breathe into who you are now because of all the things you never wanted to be so. And you can forgive the parts of yourself you still don't adore. It's all in motion. Everything's progress.

3. What do I want to celebrate?
In myself? Others? The world? What deserves an applause or bow? Who or what do I normally dismiss, downplay or deny? What am I most proud of? You don't have to hate it all. You can cry tears of joy for what was good. You can laugh and dance, hoot and holler, simply smirk over that one tiny moment no one knows about but you.

4. What am I calling in?
What's next? Tangible and intangible? How do I want to feel? Who am I becoming? Metaphorically and truly? You don't have to hold on to old dreams, old hopes. You can listen for what's calling you now, put words to intuitive hunches--deep and raw desires. A new context of self awaits you. You're already becoming it, always. 

~~~~~

These questions are heart opening, so give yourself some sacred time to dive in. Write your answers as you will. In a letter to yourself, on tiny slips of paper, on the bathtub tiles with your fingertips. 

Fortunately for us, today's a really wonderful time to meditate on these questions. It's the second lunar eclipse of the year, and lunar eclipses usually mark endings or culmination points. Perfect for sinking into the truth of what's profound and obvious now, after a deep exploration of heart and soul. Ruminate, sweethearts. Let the truth simmer sweetly.

Honor, Celebrate, Forgive, Envision.

Madlove to you, deep & wide... and all my trust in your journey,

Rachael

A Tough-Love Letter Template for the Changing Tides

Look--I'm a process girl. I believe in being with every shade of emotion that's out there, and letting the "bad" ones live for as long as they need. But sometimes, they've lived their lifecycle, and it's time for a change. The dog days need to be over. Your funk has rotted. It's time to compost it, let it grow into something new.

You know it's time when your stories, longings, resentments or fears sound so played out that you want to throw your brain out the window so you don't have to hear yourself say, "I guess this will eventually pass" ONE. MORE. TIME. Eventually has arrived.

(If you're reading this thinking... I don't think it's time yet, head HERE for some encouragement around tenderness).

It's possible that the get-real urgency is cosmic. Mercury's out of retrograde and the second lunar eclipse of the year is tomorrow. People are ready to dive into something new, to get the wheels turning on a new road, to make distance.

So, if you're one of those people (like I am these days!) who just can't stand the same old spot any longer, perhaps it's time for a Tough-Love letter. Sweet and Supportive did her job. (Thank you, darling). It's time to light a fire under your ass. Today.

Here's a template for the ready-spirit. I came up with it last night for myself. It's coachy... and really helpful. ;)

Tomorrow, you can stop back in for a gratitude letter template to the you you're growing out of.

~~~~~

Dear [Name],

This is a tough love letter. I'm only writing it because I believe in you and your deepest health and happiness so fully, and I know, plain and simple, you could use a kick in the ass right now.

The truth is, the time for ______ is over. No more dragging your feet. It's time for ______. Like really.

Yes, ______ and ______ were important because ______, but now, you're ready for ______.

So if you want it, get serious about the shit that's in the way.

If you want to feel ______ you're going to have to stop ______. Plain and fucking simple. Instead, ______.
If you want ______ quit ______ already! Start ______.
If you want ______ then stop ______. ______, instead.

[Repeat variations of the above sentences as many times as needed. With as many "come on all-fucking-ready"s as feels sincere.]

You CAN ______.
You can also ______.
And in case those fall through, you can always ______.
Whatever it takes for ______. Because it's fucking time. You can't ______ anymore. You just CAN'T.

If you keep going down that old road of ______, ______, and ______, you'll probably end up ______.

The truth is, you're meant for ______!!!!

Own your part in this process. DO your part. You've waited long enough. You've paid your dues. It's time. It's simply time.

I dare you to ______.

Crazy love & steadfast belief,
Your inner tough-love mama

~~~~~

Alright, sages. Let's do this! Feel free to post your letter on your blog and link back in the comments, or shoot them my way via e-mail. I'd love to see 'em!

xoxox,
rachael

how to make a kissing booth

Because it's winter again and who doesn't love a little old fashioned mischief?
Because our youth longs to be embodied at every age.
Because who needs the crap in the closet anyway?
Because play is the antidote to 100 shitty feelings.
Because every good holiday party has one.

Polling ideas for the next silly dream-like household transformation in the comments below.

xoxox ;-)
rach

new red shoes

lace up your
new red shoes
in the morning
of your new
dark room

yellow light
glowing through
the doubt of day--
that eery thought
that maybe
the sun won't
really shine
on you

walk outside
over shattered glass
that no one ever
sweeps
and piles of
leaves
that never protested
their falling down--
not even a shout

sink into your
new black leather seats
the cocoon in which
you drive the streets
with the top down
and a cold ground
coming up
from the underworld
of love

when you lay down
at the end of the day
and you think the dark
will stay
longer than you can
stand
know that this is
why there is night

to sleep
instead of fight
to rest
in the dark
to do nothing
as things fall apart
when there's really
nothing to do
anyway

there will always be red shoes
someone
lacing them up
in a dawn of sadness
wondering
if there will ever
be gladness
again

there will always be
questions
we don't really
need to ask--
circles
though which
we must pass--
masks
of night
and day

mournings
we cannot
save
ourselves from

the saddest thing of all

the saddest thing of all

isn't the heartbreak

isn't the death

isn't the loss

for those things, we rationalize--

we know

in our minds

we all must face them

it's the wall 

we begin to build

brick by brick

around our hearts

it's the moat

we begin to dig

in unrelenting motions

for the next 

impending flood

it's the ways 

we no longer stay new

to beauty

once we know

in our bones

that everything goes

like we've given up

on glory

like we have no time

for the simplest risk 

of being alive

and feeling it

Novice Knitter, Tangled Yarn

will someone please teach me how to knit?

weave one string through the next 

until eventually, everything makes enough sense to wear?

i'm naked with strings in knots,

hands holding bundles--of what?

what do you call a tangled thread 

bright and beautiful

but unusable?

do you put it in a drawer

for the day when someone patient 

and tending comes to do the untying?

do you snip it up into pieces,

short, partial

but at least there's something there

to salvage?

what about the knot?

the part that never comes unlocked?

like an artery near the heart

that broke, lost half its pieces

never makes the same shape again?

some things can't ever be glued back together

like string

everything a bit too tasseled at the edges

frayed at the rims

it doesn't matter 

that you long for the way it was

in the beginning

when things were neatly wound

in a wondrous order of

tidy and together

no, sometimes we must rely on 

small scraps tied with knots

stitching together a frumpy sweater

without even knowing how to knit

sometimes that's the closest

we can get 

to being clothed

in the winter

just be whatever

my sweet friend, andrew, one lovely afternoon in early fall

just be twenty five
or however old you are
or however young you are
or however wreckless or uptight or loose you are

just be a beginner
or an old fucking pro
or jaded or jarred or wishing everything was different

there's no wrong way to be
there are just stories and stories and stories

and the inside scaffolding of your soul
that's resting quietly, waiting
for you to notice
that no matter how you be
she's got room for it
reasonlessly

and a knowing
radically
that no being
lasts forever

woosh

In favor of a world where offering our simple selves is more than enough; everything

What I have to Offer from Eliot Rausch on Vimeo.

We're starving. All of us. And we're killing each other. And we're hating each other. And we're calling each other liars and evil because it's all become marketing and we want to win because we're lonely and empty and scared.

We're led to believe winning will change all that.

We are not the passive audience for this messed up power play.

We can say... that we are thinking, really thinking about who we are, and that we can express ourselves, and with this, other people won't feel so alone.

I wanna tell you that I have a hope that there's another way to be in this world. And that I believe with courage and vulnerability and honesty, that the stuff we put into the world can serve a better purpose.

Sometimes to birth a whole new you...

...you've got to rip apart the old.

Deactivated my social media sites. Rebuilding my website. Writing in solitude daily.

Sending out heaps of trust that from the wide open spaces, what's necessary and true does emerge... and for each of us, it's a different shade of beauty, a different hue of wonder.

Explore.

I dare ya.