Saturday, August 18, 2012

How to Know if it's Love :: A Story of Sage Advice

skylove

We had hiked to the top of a hill across the street from his house. I was standing, arms wrapped around a tree, looking with tears in my eyes, at this strangely beautiful man before me. The wind was blowing south east, the direction I was facing--a swirl of my curls danced before me. It'd been the most magical week, but I had to go. We were saying our goodbyes.

I don't want to sound like your parent, he said, but be careful out there. I know you need to go. I know you have a life to return to, routines to get back to, fun times with lots of people to be had. And it's good, Rachael. I'll miss you, I'll really really miss you, but it's good.

I want you to promise me something, though. Promise me you'll be careful. Through tears and silent nodding, I reached one hand out for a firm hold on his, the other touching tightly the rough bark of that small pine tree. Your heart is huge and you love so deeply. You have things people could easily want to take from you, manipulate, use for the wrong reasons. But I don't want that for you. You deserve true love. 

He stopped, stared into my eyes like his gaze came from the roots beneath our feet. I swallowed, gazed back. I didn't have to ask, How should I be careful? I didn't even have time to protest in my mind, What kind of advice is 'be careful?!' When you know in the soul of your being that someone really loves you, ten thousand usual annoyances get so easily dismissed.

So here's how, Rachael. His voice lowered with importance and his eyes locked in on mine. Look them straight in the eyes. Really look, Rachael. If you look, you will see. You will see what they're really there for in their eyes. You will know everything you need to know just by looking. Do you understand?

Out there on the land there are long pauses between thoughts. Images of past lovers and the ways they'd looked at me danced through my mind. The sun was setting the sky lavender and all the grass was golden. At the bottom of the hill, cows trotted along the cattle trail like a line of ants finding their way back home. This man stood strong and sweet, his red face the backdrop to two soil-brown eyes that saw me with no resistance nor reasoning--just an open, pure yes. And I knew he was right, that it was true, that a simple look is enough to know what's before you. I knew because I'd seen so many eyes averted, so many stares cut short or shaded with fear. I knew because no one had ever looked at me the way he did. And no love had ever felt more true.

On our way back down the hill towards the house--which is really not a house at all, but a tee-pee, but a straw bail hut, but a loft, but a dream--I stopped and squeezed his hand, turned to him, looked him square in the eye. Thank you for telling me to really look at people. I think that may be the best advice about love I've ever gotten.

He smiled, laughed like a baratone saxophone. Yeah? Good. It works both ways, too. When you love someone, even just your friends, give them your eyes. Grab Jen by the face when you get home. Look her square in the eyes and holler out, 'Jeeennn! I loooove youuuu!'. 

We laughed like jazz all the way home.

~~~~~~~~~~

So often we fret and fray over what something is or is not. Whether dating, in a relationship, or focusing on your solitude, we can't help but wonder, Is this love? Is this love? 

When it's been long enough since we've really felt it, we ask like a child who's forgotten what her home looks like. Is this my house? Is this where I belong? Is this door open for me? Do I feel safe enough to walk through it? To stay? We ask like children, because underneath all of our confidence and zest and candor and adulthood--beyond the sex and stories and sentimental moments--we are still just itty bitty babies seeking refuge and tenderness, the kind of safety that makes way for our deepest selves to emerge fully.

But reasoning our way into an answer doesn't always resonate for our bodies or the rest of our beings. That's why we keep traveling back to the question. That's also why they say, When it's love, you just know.

If you want a litmus test, if you're seeking clarity, then peek in with purpose. Look it straight in the eye. Feel how honestly you want to hold your gaze. Feel how wholly they hold theirs back. Feel how long you could stand to stay with them in that spot. It is what it is. If you look clearly, you will see. If you really want to know, the how is simple. The answer's in the eyes. Yours and theirs. Just look. You might not get the combination or reality that you want. But it's all there in plain sight.

Wishing us all the courage to look openly, to see clearly, to enter fully into what's real and true and divine. More on that divine business next time. For now, thank you for being here.

What's your take on how to know if it's love? 

madlove,
rachael

Monday, August 6, 2012

poem #1,725 (or so)



when the cape fades

it's okay
that we were proven
human

in the end,
i'm still glad
that we acted
invincible

look!
look at us now--

the way we can
honor
the ways
that we're
weak

the chains we can break
with our wild
belief

so what
if we had
to break, too?

Friday, August 3, 2012

for writers, who are wondering



the hard part about writing isn't the writing,
it's the feeling
how long can you linger in the lump of your ache?
dare you whisper the worst words of all?

when the rain rises from your teeming past
do you run around with tiny buckets, trying to catch 
a storm so grand?
or do you let what must, be drenched?

dare you stay with the raw dripping slashing skipping
rhythms 
long enough
to bleed something true?
tiny drops, deep red
and royal?

for a moment
you enter the cracking thunder
houses and heroes and heartache fall around you
and you, a queen of courage, 
you hold your gaze
you take the hits
you let everyone see
the way it looks
to be rumbled


PS--I'm writing a poem a day for the month of August and sending them each to one person only. Head right here to find out how to get in on the magic. There are about 15 spots left. xo

Thursday, August 2, 2012

The Loneliness of Being Alive & The Game of Surviving Together

Sometime back in early 2011, when the Jodi, Judy and I all lived on the same block.

This past year and a half, my best friends and I were all on these crazy spiritual journeys. We weren't calling them that as they were happening, necessarily. We were just occasionally calling each other over the phone, gasping through tears, Will it always be like this? Does anything last forever? I've never cried this much IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. I'm so disillusioned.

Scattered all over the world, each of us "on our own", we had to learn to keep going without the support of each other that usually helped us through. It was a year of growing up. An era of entering our womanhood, forreal.

One of the big questions we've been asking each other is about love (most of us having ended a major long-term relationship): Is it possible to stay with someone, to stay in love, forever? and then, as if the two questions have anything to do with each other, Are we always ultimately alone?

Are we always ultimately alone?

This is where I usually get stuck with my writing... at these big, major questions, at my search for an answer in words--as if words or definitions or absolutes could ever possibly add up to the deep, visceral truth and wisdom that lives in our bodies. (The thing in us that knows, knows, knows, how impossible alone is. How exceptionally connected we are to every single thing there is).

Still, I'm a writer. I want to put words in impossible places.

So I called up Jodi and read her the beginning of this post and told her how I was stuck... and she said, That's a really powerful place to enter into, Rach. The not-knowing. That's huge. We're all trying to answer things... What if that's it... What if the not-knowing is everything? 

Upon which I answered with glee... 
Jodi, do you realize we've been spiritual life partners for over 10 years? Do you know how many "I don't knows" we've had together?!
--Probably like, thousands, at least! she said.
We both broke out in laughter... Oh my god... We've lasted! In the I-don't-know, we last!

I don't know what this means.
I don't have a pretty, sparkly bow to tie up this post.
I don't know how to package my not-knowing or my knowing-that-I-don't-know nicely.

But I think that's the point. Somehow, if we can just give in, if we can feel it all, if we can be with the scary delight of that which we'll never have rational answers to.... I don't know... Maybe then, it doesn't really matter if we're alone or not. Maybe that's the thing that melds us together: the fact that we all doubt, that we all fear, that we're all grasping for some sort of answer to make us safe and eternal. 

Maybe what matters is that we're brave enough to just keep going, eyes open, ready to see -- that we're willing to sing our doubts together, and dance and dance and dance, then fall over exhausted, and weep, if we must.

Maybe what matters is that we learn to love it all, in an ultimate, forever kind of way... sunken in, surrendered, not-knowing what we're gonna get, not letting our not-knowing get the best of us.

~~~~~~~~

What about you, beautiful soul? What's your take on these questions? I'd be honored if you entered the conversation... If you joined us in the powerful space of wondering, together.
How brave, how brave, to be alive.

love,
rachael

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

31 for 31 Special!!! A Poem A Day Give-away!

my excitement's a little bit like this right now... ahhhhhh!!!!

Loves!!! It's here! 31 for 31 has officially begun. I am SO EXCITED. I'm feeling blown away by the positive responses and rahrahrahing I've gotten over it... and I'm having one of those small moments of disbelief... Did I really call this in? Is it really manifesting as beautifully as I had hoped and worked for?!? Helllll yes.

Logistics: I'm half booked (eeek!), so you can still sign up for a session right here. I'd love to have you on my calendar. Truly, truly, YES. Just joining the conversation? I'm doing 31 coaching sessions in 31 days with 31 different people... feel free to read on.

In other news, I've got a little surprise & dare I call this a give-away!?

I'm taking the month of August as an opportunity to really hone my intuition and practice the skill of completely opening to what wants to come through me. (In coaching, creativity, and otherwise). To enhance this practice baby, I'm going to write 31 poems over the next 31 days... a poem a day... each poem for ONE PERSON'S EYES ONLY. (Unless I end up loving it enough to publish it... But initially, at least, if it's your day, it's your poem).

SO--you can sign up to be on the receiving line of this lovely little practice by e-mailing me at rachmadlove@gmail.com with the subject line POEM (in all caps). The first 31 people to shoot me a line will get a poem.

That's all I've got for now, cutie pies. May your August 1st be full of whatever you're really craving today. May your body guide you home. Hellll yeah!

love love love,
rachael