Here. Now. Happy.

I spent this morning with my two best friends. Judy laid on her bed as we held up her clothes one by one. "Yes." "No." "Ummm, nah." We tossed the future into different piles, letting keepers tell the story of who we're becoming: a tall tree grounded to the beauty of existence; slender power revolving into an indistinguishable knowing; puddling eyes drizzled with sunlit freedom.

Bri & I are down to two weeks until departure for our grand bicycle adventure. My dresser was sold for $20 on Craig's List and the little clothing I kept is resting on Brian's recently cleared bookshelf. In boxes by the door, my art supplies wait their turn. New seeds are being born under florescent lights on the stove. There's a clearing here. There's room for new life.

I pick up my ukulele and play the song that Jodi and I wrote about the comfy red couch, about the coffee from the local shop, about choosing to be together. I walk barefoot through the front yard garden, watching the wine glass path glisten in the sun. I breathe in pollen and car exhaust and sky blue spring time and songs sung by birds.

I read my twitter feed and give all the attention in my bones to the truth of what's happening in the world. I look up and give all the attention in my bones to the truth of what's happening in this room. I pick up my new iPhone and smile at pictures of a long-held dream made manifest; the movements spreading with fiery force.

This is where the stories meet, I think.
This is where everything exists together.
This is where I get down on my knees and kiss the earth and choke up in gratitude and silently scream with my tears.
This is where I am.
Exactly where I want to be.

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.

My Friends, The Feisty Ones

I've been tutoring high schoolers in the District for the past few months, and I'm having a frickin' blast. 3:30pm rolls around and I've got a clan of students, all smiles and jokes, gathering at my table, pulling out their homework, slipping in sly remarks like, "Where your pigtails at, Miss Rachael?" Or "Did you miss me, Miss Rachael? I know it must be hard those other 22 hours of the day you not with me, Miss Rachael."  I smile and tell them, "It's true. You're the highlight of my day." And I'm not lying when I say it.

Where I work, students can receive after school tutoring in a number of places: their teacher's classroom, study hall, or detention.

I prefer detention.

Why? Because that's where the feisty students are. And I love feisty. 

feisty
–adjective

1. full of animation, energy, or courage; spirited; spunky; plucky.

2. ill-tempered; pugnacious.

3. troublesome; difficult.
 
To me, feisty reads powerful. For better or for worse. Here... let me paint it out...

Feisty + Confusion = A number of Tragic Situations (Bullying, Fear, Disrespect, Attention-Craving)

However...

Feisty + Self-Development = A Chain of Hallelujahs! (Integrity, Vision, Passion, Confidence)

I think we can all agree that when you're working with feisty, self-development is especially essential. Likely even more than academic development because of the need for deeper focus and heart-felt intention to inform priorities and passions--to point that feisty power in the direction of love and more love.

I must admit, I love my feisty friends because I can relate to them (call me Miss Feisty Rachael). Every day I feel like I am on a self-developmental path right along side my students, and I do my best to let them know it, to show them the ways we're not so different after all.

I come clean to them about my fears every day. And every time I let them in on one of mine--"I'm terrified about riding my bike across country."--they let me in on one of theirs--"I'm afraid I'll always suck at reading."

We move on quickly passed our fears. We get into the assignment at hand. We take our time with it, reading each word slowly, sounding things out little by little, piecing sentences together until they finally make sense.

They ask me, "Where's your bike today?" I tell them, "I wasn't feeling brave enough." They tell me, "That's okay. Tomorrow's another day." I tell them, "For us both. Thank god!"

Together, as if we were long-time friends, we check in on each other's hearts, each other's progress, with laughs and jokes a-plenty. With vulnerability, and all. It's sweet, to say the least. And I'm beyond grateful for the lightness and connection that follows coming clean together.

~~~

I'm thinking about my young friends today, curious about what questions might continue to offer a path toward lightness, integrity, and confidence. I've got a handful jotted down, but I'd like to know from you, what questions you wish someone had asked you in high school? The comments are open for your hindsight & wisdom. And I'm thankful in advance.

You're Invited!

I am SO SO SO excited to bring this event out to the world! I've been brewing up the idea of a Small is Beautiful Arts Festival for a few weeks now, and on August 21st it will be the first of a monthly series that I'll carry out until Brian and I leave for our cross-country bicycle adventure in April.

What is Small is Beautiful exactly?? A space for artists of all varieties who are just beginning (or who simply want to be part of an incredible community) to come out to the world embracing their artist. To start where they are... Small. (But really much bigger than they could even imagine). Raw. Honest. Beautiful.

So. What does that mean for the attendee, the evening, the festival?!

~Painting, Photography & Mixed Media Exhibits!
~Music & Poetry Performances all night!
~Zine, Card, Craft, Jewelry & Art Vendors!
~Wine, wine, wine!!! (Cash bar)
~Too much goodness to hardly handle.

Seriously.

An explosion of creativity, love & incredibly supportive vibes.

There's still space for vendors, performers, and exhibitors. Contact me ASAP if you're interested! (rachmddx@gmail.com or 410-206-9052). More experienced artists welcome, too!

I cannot WAIT to see how this emerges. It's going to be beautiful, magical, and simply irresistible (in a tingly tummy kinda way... you know the way... the uber connected humans kinda way... the true blue joy kinda way... )

Come! Bring a friend! Bring CASH! (You know, to buy art & booze). Bring love! (We can always use more of it). 

And click Attending on Facebook if you plan on coming :)


xoxo... hope to see you there!