Calling All Creeps

Come, love. Sit down with me. This is for you...

When it seems like there's no where to put your love
When your desire becomes a splinter in your heel that you cannot remove no matter the tweezers
When you just keep walking, pain and all, beginning to limp from longing so deeply

When what you prefer giving and what they prefer receiving doesn't exactly line up
When you have no fucking clue what it is that you're meant to give
When you can't control your energy in ways other than outbursts of desperation or denial

When you're the only one at the party buttoned up, or wearing flannel, or ready to kiss with as much as a hint
When you're never invited to the party
When you always choose to stay home

When you're popping xanex in the bathroom to kill the edge
When you just can't shake your judgement
When you can't understand why everyone's judging

When you get the best gift of your life and then have nothing for the giver but a thank you that he won't even receive
When you know the truth will most definitely break something--like the inertia of your body or the frozen fear of your voice
When you'd rather lie than go through the pain of restoring a shattered life
When you decide to let things break, and no one likes your recklessness

When you begin to see yourself in everyone and everything
When you can call yourself what you really are, without pretending that you are not
When your big bold life begins to topple over the edge of normal and into the realm of whole
And when you let yourself worry that this--this expansive way of being alive--makes you even stranger than before when you had no where to put your love

What if your belonging doesn't depend on someone else's word or approval?
What if there's no one coming to comfort you--I mean down-to-the-bones comfort--but your own tired self?
What if you are the so fucking special and also the creep, the weird-o?

We are all so very vulnerable. No one immune. No one getting to play hookie in the health room during the math exam. Not forever, anyway.

We all eventually have to sit for that test--the one that exposes how little we know, the one that makes us feel like beginners again, the one that softens our ego and teaches us to ask for help, or say nothing at all and just be with our own tender limitations.

We are all creeps. All weird-o's. And there is someone out there, someone so fucking special meant to make your creep stand tall like hairs on your back. Meant to remind you of your fragility. Meant to point you to your strength by illuminating your wobbly parts.

Sit for your test. Struggle to let someone see your vulnerability. Over and over and over again.

Passing's not the point.

You're learning. Perhaps, if nothing else, how to let go of the need to get everything right, to know all the ways of the all the worlds, to always have an answer.

You're learning how to be a creep, and therefore, relatable. You're learning how to be a weird-o, and therefore, low-pressure for everyone else. You're learning how to be one of many drowning in the pool of desire for a perfect body, a perfect soul.

And this, this makes you more known, more normal, more human than you ever thought you'd be. It makes you just like me, just like her, just like him. It makes you one of us in this big, messy, beautiful human family that's trying to learn love despite our differences; that's trying play and grow up and stay young and feel free and feel safe all at the same time.

We see ourselves in you.

We all have our days (or months, or years) wondering, What the hell am I doing here?

We're all in this together.

When you fear yourself... and there's nowhere else to turn.

Turn in.

What's asking to be born?
What part of you, in hiding, is just dying to see the light of day?
Who would you let yourself be, if you knew you'd be loved unconditionally?

Your partner, lover, friends, family--they won't always know how to love you without pause.
But hiding does not make you immune from judgement.
Denying who you are does not free you up to be liked, loved, admired, or praised.

It's a ruthless world of energy and emotion.
Our happiness, our joy, our satisfaction--is because we choose to open.
--Open to all that we are, all that is, all that will be and has been.
We open authentically, with acceptance, tenderness and love blazing the trail.

It's not an easy opening, always. Especially not at first.
New habits take time and practice.
But closing off is no safe bet, either. 

After all, you may know the impulsive rage of constantly fidgeting for the next distraction.
You may know the fatigue that comes when you never stop swimming.
You may know the disappointment that comes when you never dive in at all.

And then, there's opening.
There's learning how to be with every impossibly beautiful and unlikely but loveable part of yourself.
There's learning that there's no real difference between one thing and the next.
We're all made up of love--all of us--every part.

That's why when I coach, I almost always ask my clients to be with this question:

If I loved and accepted every part of who I am, what would I stand to gain?

Journal on this question for 30 days, I tell them. Walk with it. Let it sink into your psyche just as you're about to go back into auto-pilot. See what shifts for you. For me, this tiny question moves mountains--opens me to a resounding truth on a pathway toward my next bold move.

from a cozy couch with quiet rain fall behind me and this song on repeat...
madlove and sweetness,
rachael

The Dark Side of Becoming Whole

the first album cover in a long time that gives me pause--delighted, magical pause.

"You must go into the dark in order to bring forth your light. When we suppress any feeling or impulse, we are also suppressing its polar opposite. If we deny our ugliness, we lessen our beauty. If we deny our fear, we minimize our courage. If we deny our greed, we also reduce our generosity. Our full magnitude is more than most of us can ever imagine. If you believe that we have the imprint of all humanity within us, as I do, then you must be capable of being the greatest person you ever admired, and at the same time capable of being the worst person you ever imagined."

"Love is inclusive: it accepts the full range of human emotion--the emotions we hide, the emotions we fear. Jung once said, 'I'd rather be whole than good.' How many of us have sold ourselves out in order to be good, to be liked, to be accepted?"

-The Dark Side of the Light Chasers by Debbie Ford

~~~~~~~

I didn't exactly know it, but I'd been doing a shit-ton of shadow work over the past few months. Then two weeks ago a coach brought it to my attention, so I started reading The Dark Side of the Light Chasers and everything began to click.

Where do I lie to myself? What parts of myself do I avoid? Who am I afraid to be? How am I closeted for the sake of being GOOD, rather than whole? 

In December at a coaching training I proclaimed to one of my classmates that 2012 would be the year for coming OUT. Then I quickly changed my mind and moved on.

But it was too late. Subconsciously, the idea was planted and the movement underway. I began dancing. I began dressing a differently. I began having conversations about radical relationships. I began saying what I was thinking instead of just thinking it. I stopped helping all the time. I fought with friends I'd never fought with before. I made messes!

Here I am, months into the process, still amidst some big messes but with a few bits of heart-felt clarity under my belt. I know now that revealing my whole self, to the best of my ability, feels like a powerful, vulnerable, beautiful, safe thing to do. And I want to highlight the "safe" part by saying this... this thing I'm learning and re-learning practically every day:

The most dangerous thing we could ever do is hide our holy truth.

Most of us can't be happy and hide forever. Eventually, if we want to live truly energizing and fulfilling lives, we have to come out--we have to see and accept all the different parts of ourselves. And then, we've got to speak the truth... we've got to tell the people we love... we've got to forge space to be ourselves and connect.

For that sizzling, sensual, vibration that runs from head to toe when you're really IN IT.
For the way they look at you, the way you capture their attention, because you're so unbelievably yourself.
For that sound sleep at night, even the nights when you're sleeping alone--especially the nights when you're sleeping alone.

Two suggestions for beginners: Start with the ending & Fess up.

What's that deep part of yourself that's just dying to be set free? To see the light of day in this marvelous, unspeakable world? Feel free to send e-mail, hand written letters or schedule an appointment to talk. Sometimes a safe place to start is with one dear soul who will listen with zero judgement.

Wishing us all the chance at inclusive love--at knowing and adoring our full range of humanness.

"By God, when you see your beauty, you'll be the idol of yourself." - Rumi

e-mail --> rachmadlove at gmail dot com
snail mail --> Rachael Maddox 710 Silver Spring Ave Silver Spring, MD 20910

A Note on Wisdom and Growing Up Slowly

You can move molasses speed, sweet friend. There is no need to get wise fast. No need at all. (Not even for your job, your survival, your cash flow). When you walk an honest path, you will endure true suffering as your mind/body/spirit morphs into new shapes of being. Thank god. Your suffering is your salvation because it never stays forever--and when it's moved on and done with you, you will feel calm, content, slap-happy, even, over all the good times (echt-em... raging arguments) you two had together. Looking back, you will regard your suffering as your most trusted friend. Your most reverent teacher. Divine. And you will be right to do so. She was the one willing to offer up some tough love, as the rest stood by, afraid you couldn't handle it.

Suffering knows your strength. (And you are strong, no matter how pervasive your suffering. Promise.)

So take it slow. Feel every ounce of doubt, fear, inadequacy, loneliness, numbed-out-in-terror defenses. Breathe in how little you know. Let a 7-year-old comfort your fragility. Know how far into the dark you're willing to walk. Get dirty with the edges of your sanity. Say "fuck it" and then say it again. Cry and throw in the towel while everyone else crosses the finish line in record time.

To develop resilience with your suffering, you have to suffer. No need to avoid it. No need to cover up pain with wisdom, answers or ego. No need to get ahead.

Nothing feels more false than the hallow knock on ego's "answers". So let down the facade with care and compassion. Soften your body to the deep release of surrender. Sob if you have to. All day long is just fine. In the middle of the grocery store is just fine. At church when everyone else appears to be just fine... is just fine.

Your aching uncertainty is a jackpot of life experience.

Take your time with it, sweet friend. Walk slowly.

love letter to a changing heart

dearest heart,

i honor the dance you're doing between fear and faith. it's so hard to change patterns, isn't it? but you're doing a really great job. i know how easy it is for me to run you around without your consent, without checking in to see how you're doing. i want to be extra gentle with you during this transitional time. i want to extend my deepest form of love. i'm ready to ask, how can i be more loving? i have a feeling the deepest love i can offer includes persistence, patience and acceptance -- an odd combo, but an important one.

so here it goes:

i promise to persistently believe that you are worthy of gentle attention and slow breaths of awareness. i promise to insist that you are meant for calm strength and deep power. i promise to point you toward love-based action rather than fear-based avoidance over and over again.

i promise to be patient with the process of faith. i promise to give you all the time you may need. i promise to extend kindness and forgiveness as you inevitably fall into old patterns of fear and anxiety. those patterns are part of the process of faith. there's no linear end. there's a dance. i promise to let you dance as you will -- some nights sexy, some nights stepping on your own feet, some nights completely letting go with joy and freedom.

i promise to accept you for exactly where you are. to love all your sides and hidden parts. your shame, your pride, your ego, your humility. i promise to withhold judgment -- because judgment hurts us both. i promise to honor you as you are.

are you feeling any better? if not, that's okay. just know that you are in an incredible space of opening to the way things are. try, if you can, to believe that seeing is the very thing that points us in the direction of honest love--the direction of spiritual power. you're seeing. it's big. like, revolutionary big. you're there. trust me. just keep going.

all the love in the universe,
rachael

ps--if you're wondering where to go or how to move, dear heart, i'd say take one bold step in direct defiance of fear. fear's getting tired of hearing herself talk, anyway. it's true!

pps--i am so excited for you.

conversations with abraham

 
i have a tendency for falling in love with people everywhere i go. it's a condition i simply cannot shake. yesterday at the big bear cafe, abraham was no exception.

we were sitting catty-cornered at the common table that was long with deep grooves from many years of use, many mugs and plates clanking down on it.

i was drawing and he was typing. peering over his laptop with a slight grin on his face and love in his eyes, he asked me, what are you making?
--sorry, what did you say? with his soft voice and east african accent, it was hard to make out his words.
what are you making, love? it's beautiful.
--oh, thank you. a flier.
ahh... what is it for?
--an arts festival.
oh, you're an artist, yes? i nodded... what kind of art do yo do?
--writing and painting, mostly.
his brow perched up. i'm a writer, too. what do you write about?
--umm... being human, i suppose. you know... fear, trust, love. my nerves must have shown through the confidence i projected. but something in me knew that neither nerves nor confidence were important here. what about you?
he paused. yes yes... ego is the sneakiest of human struggles, he said finally, stroking his beautiful white beard in a quiet and thoughtful way. you never really rid yourself of it. you just learn how to control it. and fear is at the center of everything. i write about these things, too.

i put my pen down, took off my reading glasses, and smiled. hello, love, i thought, let us begin.

our conversation stretched on for hours with velocity and ease. at times when abraham went into longer stories i let my mind quiet and watched the widening and narrowing of his glossy eyes--the space between his barrier-breaking smile and curious furrowed brow.

i've learned through practice to let go of individualizing myself and others... to become part of the universe.

do you still have fear? i asked.

yes, but my fear does not haunt me. from the center of his chest out toward his sides, he motioned with his hands, shaking out the space, patting down the air. this was his letting go, his shaking free. i love to dance, he told me. too much, sometimes.

i knew this was true beyond words, without ever seeing it happen. dancing is freedom, and abraham seemed to know both.

there are two paths you can choose: the average path or the spiritual path. choosing the spiritual path does not land you at the ending like *that*. it takes you on a journey. he leaned back smiling, tilting his head to almost touch his shoulder, as if he saw me straighter that way. i never know where it's taking me. but i'm glad to be on it.

i understand that intellectually, i told him, followed by an exhale of honesty, but i'm still very afraid in my heart. 

ah, you are young. you have many experiences waiting for you and much exploration to do. the universe will teach you many things. many lessons about impermanence and loss. my acceptance of impermanence has liberated me from fear for the most part. but like they say, if you're not an idealistic marxist in your twenties then something's wrong with you. this idealism makes it hard to accept loss. you have many experiences waiting for you. you will live to explore many ideas and truths. but right now, this is enough.

yes, abraham, i thought, right now--this is more than enough.

How to be Alone

(Or part of what I'm practicing as I break from internet over-consumption...)



Happy Tuesday! I'm feeling great, by the way. This stepping-into-the-scary-unknown-thing isn't all too bad when I'm actually doing it.

Go on ~ you can do it, too! Close the lap top, turn off the cell phone, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and let your mind ask this question:

What do I really want to be doing right now?

Then ~ take another deep breath, a small moment of realizing that no one will live that experience for you, and give yourself a big dose of self-love... just do it.

You can ~ promise...

xoxo