through the love lens

i am neither
one nor all
but the strange
falling motion of
acknowledgment
and now.

promises

weave a story
with your strong hands
in my wild hair

tell me something
untrue
and unbuttoning--
drenched with wanting,
elongated

i've mostly sworn myself off promising,
but i promise
i'll stay open to
considering your sweet nothings

not that you're a liar,
just that words
are as impossible
as love
and i speak more in the language of
labor and hands:
grabbing hold
clenching skin
punching in
time after time after time--

muscles so controlled
they learn
how to stitch
and stay--
or at least
make falling away
look graceful



***



i'm hungry, now
with no energy to spare deliberating

i will feed myself
until i become round and full of promise
big enough
to keep

Sacred Love: 12 Things at the Bottom of Everything**

For people who are treating themselves like shit, romantically. Or suffering from a major crisis of faith. Or both. And don't even realize it. *cough* my former self *cough*. Or anyone who knows that nothing matters more than love.

1. You have to know that you're sacred. If you want to be treated sacredly, if you want holy-fucking-yes experiences, if you're really honestly in it to win it: you cannot pretend that your body, feelings, desires, preferences, rhythms, health or happiness don't matter. THEY MATTER. Love is our gateway to the sacred. And all of your parts are meant to feel it. If you're not feeling sacred in your experience, it's not love.

2. You have to know that everything is sacred. The person you want to get something from. The person who took something from you, irrevocably. The honest-to-god terror you didn't want to go through. The person who's pissed at you for leaving. The loneliness, the desperation, the flailing. The quiet realization that changes everything. Nothing can be excluded from the fullness of the sacred. Bless your growing pains--expansiveness is surest the way to love. 

3. You have to really see and accept that everything material dies. You. Her. Him. The Us We Create That We Want To Last Forever. Nothing material lives forever. Nothing. In really seeing and accepting this, you're much faster, braver, ballsy-er for the things that excite your soul. You're also a whole lot more honest. You worry less, let go, go for it. And this is what we need--people brave enough to go for broke, because ultimately, nothing goes with you to the grave. There's no savings account or retirement plan for love. There's now, and how you choose to amaze yourself, or not.

4. You have to protect what you respect. Which means you have to figure out what you respect. Here are some recommendations: your body, your time, your heart, your quality of life, your inner-peace, you feminine expression, theirs, the thing you spent a lot of care building, the Earth. We're slowly waking up as a people, getting better at treating each other with respect. In the mean time, the best way to help the process is to say no (firmly) to anything that doesn't feel honoring or enlivening.

5. You have to figure out who you are and own it--LOVE IT. Let the haters hate. You can't blame someone for only loving the parts of you that you reveal. When you closet parts of yourself, you end up feeling victimized, misunderstood or isolated when those parts are neglected. It's unfair to the people trying to love you, and potentially very very dangerous. Sacred love reveals everything, does not waste its energy in hiding. 

6. You have to trust the unknown. You don't get to decide who's right for you or how long someone stays. You can't will meeting "the one". You can't push a cosmic connection into being. You will meet a lot of people who you love in one way or another, who are not meant to be your partner, in a long-term, traditional sense. If you stay open, you will let yourself experience that love and it will leave you feeling fuller, more alive and known. If you stay open, you will keep floating down the river until every single thing in you screams out, STOP. This is where I dock my being. This is who I want to rest and play and build and feast with. And even then, there is nothing certain but mystery and the moment's very real desire.

7. You have to expect heartbreak. Because everything breaks. Willing or not. But life and love are also constantly being born. Your heartbreak doesn't kill you, unless you want it to.

8. You have to practice suffering. Which is really just letting go. Because you cannot avoid it. Ever. And if you don't practice, when you're forced into it, you'll have no clue what to do with your unmeasurable desire to hold onto the impossible. (Which is fine. You'll learn. But practice helps). Bikram yoga's my favorite bootcamp for letting go. Discover yours. It will change your life.

9. You have to trust nature. That nothing stays dark forever. That winter is not infinite, nor summer. That you are meant to go through cycles of dark and light. That expecting anything else is highly irrational and very unhelpful.

10. You have to be a revolutionary. Look, we're in a culture of rape. No one likes it when I say it, but it's true. Material, emotional, psychological and physical assertions of power, from one or more people, onto another, without their consent, is happening EVERYWHERE. In the grocery store, the shopping mall, advertisements, classrooms, subtle conversational assumptions--and yes, our bedrooms. It's so pervasive that most of us are sleep-walking or dissociating because to really wake up is exhausting. You almost immediately need a nap just upon the thought of patriarchal degradation. So take one. And then wake up and experiment with your power and privilege (or lack of it). Because we are the only ones that will change the status quo. And the feminine divine is needed. Now. Start in the easiest place you can identify (bedroom, kitchen, workplace, body image). The payoff will be spiritually profound. Promise.

11. You have to stop trying to get somewhere. I know, I know...with all these "you have to's", if I were you I'd be thinking, This woman is giving me all these directions and now she's telling me to stop trying?! But it's important. Because wherever you are is where you need to be. Really. And when it's time for you to move, you will know it in your gut, your body, your heart, your psyche--exactly where and how.

12. You have to dream, especially when it hurts. This may seem contrary to #11, but it's not. It's been nearly a year since my ex-husband and I parted ways. In the darkest of hours, when I damn-near believed I'd be alone in a bed of sorrow forever, I wrote myself this little note on a paint-sample snatched from the hardware store. At the time, the words were near impossible to believe. But dreams don't come from rational places. They come from your hidden potential, and that potential is alive in the present. No scurrying on the hamster wheel to access it necessary.

**If you read this post thinking Fairy Language Does Not Compute, rest assured, this list is pretty talk for hard-earned, truly-learned realities. And the thing about those is this: it takes having them happen to know that they're real. Just like love. 

Is it possible to love others without first being loved? Is it possible to treat yourself as sacred, without first being shown radical appreciation? Is it possible to accept loss, without first experiencing the worst of it? I actually, honestly don't think so. But life is long. Everything is coming for you. Especially if you want it. This much, I believe with all the faith in me. Let the seeds be planted. It is enough.

As always, if you're longing for a sacred space for all your secret wantings to be held, permission to write to me personally. It's never too late or too soon to confess the radical truths of your unfettered, daring, timid, worthy heart.

love,

rachael

~~~

For related writings, the brother post to this piece lives here: Welcoming the Wildness of Love: 25 Lessons from a Year-Long Adventure in Dating.

who could ever know why

i like to watch the way things change

like toenails curling

around edges of un-noted strength

blisters getting bigger 
before they shrink back into place

hugging, hard on soft

we need each other

who could ever know why

you might be like a blister on me

or a cloud

changing shape

impossible to catch 

a dragon, a chimney, a dream

something i need

reasonlessly 

like feet, and history

maybe we could walk together for 

a while

in the back alley

the back yard

tracing birthmarks with fingers

naming the shapes like clouds

wondering how we ended up 

bare backs on the ground

leaning into the sky

like always

it's changing again

the way my hand feels 

cozying your love handle

and i like not knowing what to call

the wild pull

storm-like

that gusts through my body like a wind bowl

everyone wearing goggles

eyes open

somehow able to see

the sun flickering 

through terror drops landing 

everywhere

my brain weighs the weight of 

running

like a thumping load 

with no good destination

your face tells me a secret

i can't hear in words

so i listen my ear into your chest:

enough thumping loads

to tell all the clouds bedtime stories

i'm not sure who's whispering

but i'm sticking around

to find out

Nothing to Refuse: A song that says Yes to it All

Can I tell you how hard it's been for me? Turning the page is exhausting, even when you're committed, accepting, honorable, intentional, working with ten thousand healers, etc. How 'bout them apples?!? Sometimes, you can't make it easy. Sometimes, all you can do is simply practice accepting where you are. Saying... "Oh well." "Yup." "This is really where I am." more than you're used to or comfortable with. You can just be in the sadness or rage or exhaustion or depression or, or, or... You can let. it. be. Better... You can let it live. (Oh, how little space we have as a culture for "not having your shit together"--but that's another post).

This song was born in one of those moments of surrender and acceptance. The lyrics are below. And it begs the question... What if there's nothing wrong, nothing here to refuse? What happens when you create space for it all--all the sides and shades of our crazy existence as humans? What, that's usually smothered and stuck, gets a chance to comes alive?



Nothing to Refuse

What if I don't need you tonight like I think I do?
What if one's just as good of a number as two?
Used to think that I needed your fingers to strum a song
Turns out, I got ten of my own; I can do it, too...
I can do it, I can do it
Someone please tell me why we spend so much time wanting
Show me what's right in front of me; I'm awake now, I'm awake now
To the tears and the tender, the fears the surrender
Turns out even through it all, I can make it through...
I can make it, I can make it 'cause...

I sing pop songs
 When I'm sad
And I've got road rage
When I'm mad
And on those good days
When I'm glad
I'll say thank you
With a quiet laugh

What if I could get quiet enough to be still?--
Still like a chair on a hardwood floor...
Maybe then, maybe then, maybe then, maybe then
All of the laughter would be a bit funnier
Funny thing I've been seeing people more clearly
Eye to eye so many of us are so weary
What a gift, what a gift to be tortured together
After all, we all know, together is better, better, better, better

We'll sing pop songs
When we're sad
And we'll have road rage
When we're mad
And on those good days
When we're glad
We'll say thank you
With quiet laughs

What if I don't need you tonight like I think I do?
What if one's just as good of a number as two?
We all know, we all know it's resistance that kills
What if there's nothing wrong, nothing here to undo?
What if there's nothing wrong, nothing here to refuse?

I'll sing pop songs
When I'm sad
And I'll have road rage
When I'm mad
And on those good days
When I'm glad I'll say thank you
With a quiet laugh...

What if there's nothing wrong?
What if there's nothing wrong here?
What if there's nothing wrong, nothing here to undo?
What if there's nothing wrong, nothing here to refuse?

isn't it a pity: the most beautiful meditation on heartbreak

isn't it a pity
isn't it a shame
yes, how we break each other's hearts
and cause each other pain

how we take each other's love
without thinking anymore
forgetting to give back
forgetting to remember
just forgetting and no thank you
isn't it a pity

some things take so long
but how do i explain
why not too many people can see
that we are all just the same
we're all guilty

--Isn't it a Pity by George Harrison, covered by Nina Simone

not mine

Consider this your invitation, if you feel so called:
What world is not your own?

be with mine

Be with Mine from Jodi McLaren on Vimeo.

Heavy heart, I'll carry you tonight
I do my best, to try to see the bright side
I take you out downtown, just you and I
The roads are blocked, the traffic is thick

I start to cry
I start to cry, to cry - y- y- y 

I used to see your face more than my own
I used to touch your skin more than my own
I used to hear your words more than my own
I used to feel your love more than my own

What's there to feel? In my bones, what's there to feel? 

It's kind of funny, it's kind of sad
How it's so easy to hold the hand
Of someone else in their imperfection

why can't I, why can't I
be with mine? be with mine? 

I believe my heart was made to heal,
was made to breathe in love
and then exhale
and with each breathe released
I can choose
the song I sing 

so I'll let it out, let it out.

~~~~~

Jodi,
Thanks for giving the gift of being with yours... your whole self, your whole life, your whole everything. I adore every shade and side of you and your process. You truly do inspire me. Here's to being with ourselves, through and through, and when that becomes too much, remembering that we can also be with each other. Forever and ever, amen.
Love,
Rach

If You Float Down That River

If you float down that river
with children grabbing hold to each of your legs
and a third on your back for good measure
slimy moss on rocks skimming your sun-kissed skin
and cool water bathing, baptising, your non-religious soul...

If you float down that river
with those children of wild reckless joy
and you notice that man of wild reckless love
noticing your wild reckless magic--
the way your wet shirt outlines your holy body like a prayer...

If you float down that river
letting children lead the way to freedom
around the fallen tree branches
through the sandy, rocky waters of the deep unknown...

If you float down that river
wide enough for children of all ages--
adults, too, who never dreamt they could turn back,
be led by children, pushed on tire swings, fed star shaped pancakes for dinner...

If you float down that river...
when the trees shade the sun and your teeth start to chatter
when laughter has filled your out-of-shape lungs
and your body becomes the best type of tired...
those children will carry you upstream

they will tell you to grab hold of their legs
a hand on each child, their joint strength unmeasurable
they will pull you with all their joyful might
up and out of that river

they will carry you like an egyptian princess--
not so graceful, but they will all pitch in--
bring you into the sun again
find you a change of clothes--
warm and dry like sitting near a blazing fire

and when your eyes grow heavy from such delight
they will tuck you into bed
with tiny giggles and kisses
bemused by their magic, and yours--your playing along
that a thing like you could be so free
in a guarded global prison of grown ups

then they will go out into the woods, wild with cheer
worry-less about waking you
knowing nothing could stop you
no, nothing could stop you
from sleeping and dreaming
in deep joy tonight

If you tell the whole truth

You may face the consequences
You may literally quiver in your body, shiver in your bones, and just barely whisper your words
You may suffer regret
You may be surprised by the way another's whole truth affects yours
You may enter the freedom and committment and chill of actually marrying yourself
You may be mistaken for selfish or rude
You may apologize with nothing but sincerety in your heart, no matter the humiliation or blow it takes to your dear ego
You may feel the emerging pain of bringing something new into the world for the very first time
You may begin to believe in love
You may actually get what you really want (and you may come to realize that it's not what you thought you wanted... not even one bit)
You may cause storms
You may change your entire life with one sentence you can never retrieve
You may lose things or people or places or jobs you never planed on losing
You may wonder if it was worth it, or if you (and everyone else) would've been better off living just below the surface of your perfectly normal lies
You may gain the life you're really meant for
You may find true companionship
You may be seen and loved, fully, for every single bit of who you really are
You may sacrifice ease for holiness
You may be completely exhausted and need two naps a day for the rest of your life
You may become far more curious than you were ever prepared for
You may ask provacative, pivitol questions, and fear not their answers
You may feel alone
You may swell over with remorse
You may swell over with gratitude
You may Surrender
You may become closer to God than you ever knew possible
You may learn the true gifts of imperfection
You may give more than you were ready to give
You may learn more than you were ready to learn
You may have nothing left to sit with than what you're actually meant for in this very moment in time
You may come to life like never before
You may embody a difficult, honest work
You may embody Love
You may know that it was worth it, every tiny morsel, every drop of sweat, every tear and laugh and unruly sigh of relief

Assateague Island, New Year's Night

His chest rose and crashed like waves on sand.
I lied awake listening to both,
nestling in by his side, catching his heat in mine,
cold air whistling through the damp nets of our tent.

The embers had cooled,
my giggling friends gone in slumber.
All I knew was myself,
drippy nose, eyes open, tasting the dew of the hidden moon
and my tender midnight fear.

Sometimes I like to keep the flashlight a glow
a little longer than needed
so I can lay there wondering, without falling asleep,
if I'll ever feel normal in the wild.

That night there were horses licking the bottom of my steel pan,
and old fears washed up on the shore with the shells.
The shells--the shells spoke to me with fury,
writing messages beyond paper, beyond words.

I listened, as the waves gave their soul to the sand,
as the clouds kissed purple through the sky,
as my own teeth calmed their chattering mistrust.

I lay awake next to my love,
eyes open to the peaking and retreating night.
I lay awake there in silence,
tasting strength on my tongue,
hearing songs of powerful wind--
thanking the Wild Surrender,
that I could just as soon, call my own.
Just as soon as the geese call bridges
their staircase to the sky.

Happy Holidays~My Wish for Us All

If I could give anything to the people I love this holiday season, I'd give openness to change for the better. I'd give courage to embrace the immense power within. I'd give trust to take care of each others hearts and our own. I'd give hope that trusting won't be for the worst. I'd give joy as we travel our journeys, no matter where they take us.


But sometimes all you can really give is understanding. Compassion extended from your heart to theirs. Empathy and the patience to be with whatever, however. Deep knowing that we're all in it together, each struggling in our own unique way to make peace and be love. These things take time and gentleness, and they don't come from nothing. But they're not impossible.

Each day we have a choice, no matter our circumstances: to see or to shield, to judge or to gaze softly, to accept or to resist, to act or to shut down.

Some days we bounce between choices like a ping-pong ball--unsure which side of the table we'll fall from, until by the slightest stroke of chance and skill, one side wins.

The winning team isn't always love--even for the most skilled players. But it's not all about winning, is it?

Because we're all really on the same team, aren't we? The team that wants, more than anything, to be seen, heard, respected and cared for. The team that doesn't want to divide and conquer, but wants to unite and uplift. That's us--the humans. We're mostly common people, wanting common decent things. We can be in it together, if we choose to be. 

Wishing you these things this year, because they're possible, because you're worth them, and because even when they don't come true--we have each other to fall back on. We have each other to unite again and try again, for the ideals we were meant to embody. For a kinder kind of love. Let's do this thing.

love,
rachael

Eternal Sunshine & a story from the beginning of our love

The other night, Brian and I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time since the beginning of our relationship. Back then I had little belief in true lasting love. Really. I was a hopeless romantic full of doubt. I wanted to be in love so badly, but I was terrified of coming close to it. Coming close to love had a way of triggering all my worst fears... If I start to love someone they surely won't love me back, If I want to be loved I can't be authentic, If I let my true self show it won't be enough, I am incapable of loving without judging and my judgments will ruin you, me and our love so let's just quit while we're ahead, I will break the heart of anyone who falls in love with me.

I can wholeheartedly say (and have said to many people) that Brian picked up all my shattered pieces and taught me how to love. And he did it by accepting me. He sat with all my neroutic fears and bundles of terror. He saw through them to the heart of who I was--a brave and hopeful girl who wanted to be in love but wasn't quite sure how.

I will never forget those nights, my first semester of college, sitting up late at night on his twin bed in his tiny apartment room, street lights flooding in through the blinds, tears flooding down my face and Brian simply listening. Those nights saved me. They gave me the chance to expose all my broken parts and have them held in tenderness. It was the biggest relief.

Us back then

But still, I tried to break up with him over and over again -- for no rational reason except that I was terrified, and that changing habits takes time. When that happened, he'd look me in the eye and ask, "How long do you want to hold on to your fear? You could refuse to commit for the rest of your life in the name of fear. But one day, you'll be ready to choose. And that day, you'll realize it's not all about who, but what. Love or fear. Do you love me?"

I did. I loved him so much and I knew it in my bones. It wasn't about him. It was about my inability to say "okay" to my terror. It was about my resistance to the way things were.

But Brian sat with me. And sitting with something, as is, will do incredible things. Open you to tenderness. Open you to the truth. Open you to acting with love over fear.

We watched Eternal Sunshine the other night, it hit me in huge ways. This is a clip from the very end of the movie. To catch you up to speed, in case you haven't seen it, Clementine and Joel fall in love, but after a year or so, Clementine decides erratically after a fight that she wants Joel erased from her memory completely. Joel finds out and decides the only way to cope is to do the same. The movie mostly consists of their beautiful memories as they're being erased by special neuro-docs. After both of their memories of one another have been erased, they re-meet and fall back in love. Only, a woman working for the memory doctor sends all past patients, Joel & Clementine included, tapes that were recorded pre-memory erasing, explaining why they wanted to erase that person from their memory. Leading up to this clip, Joel's listening to the tapes of what he said about Clementine, and she hears them. They're nasty and broken-hearted sounding. The way you would talk about someone who's hurt you so badly that you want them erased from you memory. But he's hearing them for the first time--his memory of her and their relationship totally blank. Reel the clip.



Eternal Sunshine

This scene in particular brought me back to those late nights on Brian's twin bed. My terror surfacing, his acceptance saving me. My fear jumping off bridges, his patience catching me. The act of saying "okay" is no small thing. I might need to remind myself over and over again of how beautiful and inspirational sitting with the messy parts of being human actually is. How it was that very thing, offered up by someone else, that gave me the most powerful relationship I've ever known. And how it is that very thing that can take me to wherever I dream of going.

Acceptance. Saying "okay". Knowing it really is.

A new habit worth forming.

So--in the name of practicing, I'll offer up some truth of how I am right now, as is. And I'll offer it with a quiet prayer for acceptance... May I hold myself with tenderness for all the ways my being manifests, past, future and present. Amen.

achey
tired
nervous about money
nervous about always putting myself out there
wiped
pensive
hopeful
over it
ready to take a bath and go to bed

Dear souls, how are you feeling right now? Feel free to show your true self in the comments below. Sometimes it takes being seen and accepted by another to begin seeing and accepting ourselves. We can practice being seen together. I'll honor you as you are.

big love,
rachael

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.

love letter to an aching heart

 

Dearest Heart,

I want you to know that I am with you today. Right here, right now. Can you feel me breathing with you? Honoring the space you need and deserve? I am here with love and acceptance for wherever you are. I honor whatever state you embody because I recognize that they are all part of the miracle of life. Your saddness is the miracle that opens to lightness. Your tension is the miracle that opens to freedom. Your neglect is the miracle that opens to attention.

I see you for what you are. I'm with you all the way. All of you. And I love you til the end.

Yours,
Rachael


Wishing each of your hearts the tender attention they might need. May you know the simple act of choosing love, may you feel the profound affect of paying attention, and may you trust that it changes everything for the better. Truly.

Nothing More Dangerous

"Falling in love and creating safety are like the opposite. There's nothing more dangerous than falling in love." - Susan Piver

Taking a vow to love anything for any period of time, let alone for as long as we shall live, is well, terrifying. Begin even opening up to the idea of loving something new for just a short period of time, and you'll know just what I mean. Want to play the guitar (because it's awesome and you secretly think you could become a full-time indie rock star if you just stuck it out)? Great! Let the onslaught of not-good-enough-to-keep-going begin.

Loving anything with long-term intentions--your partner, your work, your surroundings, the moment--calls us to change; to deepen, to widen, to expand. And change is never safe. It calls us to question; ways to improve, what went wrong, what the heart is truly capable of. And questioning is never safe.

Loving, against our liking, calls us to trust our unmeasurable discomfort and our unavoidable impermanence as part of the path to freedom. But just to be clear, we don't travel to freedom. We open to freedom. It's always a choice, it's always facing us, and it's never without danger.

Here's the thing: I want love and I want freedom, and if that means immortality and discomfort, I want those things too. I want the tears and the laughter and the quiet simple hope. I want trust in knowing that living at life's limits is the fullest way to experience life, even if it's anything but easy to do.

Choosing to love, despite it's danger, is a like choosing freedom instead of fear.

Yes! I want that. Who doesn't? But like most things, it's easier said than done. So when Brian and I created our wedding vows one short month ago, we took the challenge into consideration. Part of what we said to each other was this:

The reason I wanted to do this is because I have full faith in you and full faith in this... our ongoing commitment to loving each other until the end, no matter what form that love has to take in order to survive.

This last part, I think, is the deal breaker. (Check back with me in two decades to confirm.) It's the difference between love that lasts and love that fades. A willingness to let go of the old, broken ways and move on to something new. Innovation. Courage. Change. 

The way we love will morph. But We. Will. Love. No matter what it takes. No matter how it has to look. Until we both shall pass.

Why? Because we're unsatisfied with anything else--any pretending or shadowing or seeming to be something we're not. We're striving, with earnestness, for satisfaction, mystery, excitement. And they don't just come from pink fuzzy handcuffs or cabin get-aways (though these things can definitely help). They come from striving for the truth. Even the inconvenient truth. Even the truth you wish wasn't true. I'm not claiming that we're great at this, and we don't always do it. I can promise you that. We certainly have and will continue to experience dissatisfaction, disillusionment, confusion and fear that we've lost the real thing. The good news is...

Fessing up about our fear of loss is the real thing. 

It's compassionate. It's fierce. It's tender. It's truth-seeking. It's the way love lasts.

We've been fessing up a lot lately. It's terrifying. It's groundbreaking. It's saving us every time.

We've also been surrendering to this truth: Dulling your alertness in order to make peace now, is a pathway to war later. And we've been opting for alertness. Not just with our romance, but our work, our dreams, our money values. We want to love them all. In a way that honors us both as individuals, forcing neither of us to de-self. In a way that cradles our union and strengthens our trust. In a way that helps the world, too. We're waking up little by little, and with every flicker of light, I'm inspired to go even further.

Committing to love is dangerous work. So dangerous, that more times than us humans care to admit (myself, especially), we implode. We diminish our partnerships, screaming, blaming, sighing, resenting. We break down our bodies, getting sick, sore, sleepless. But what we can easily overlook is that our implosion is a blessing--a signal that our fire is beginning to fade--and we have the choice to see it or ignore it. To pay attention or numb. To practice fear or practice love.

It's not easy. It takes work. And it's likely that every time we begin the work of listening with more compassion, we'll be challenged to a new level. That's the way it goes. Listening moves us farther.

The process gets easier when we begin to accept discomfort; when we begin to expect the need to morph, to deepen, to expand our openness.  

Love gives everything, but asks the same of us.

This might sound like unfortunate news. The good news is, I might be wrong. Maybe love asks nothing of us but to open our hearts and wait. (But if you've ever tried this, you'll know, it's something.) Still. Maybe love is always there, hoping for you to try it on, walk around in it some until you begin wearing it like your favorite pair of jeans. And the great news (and terrifying new--because nothing great is without a little terror) is that the sky's the limit when you're wearing something that fits. Standing in your authenticity and power creates wildly dangerous and life-altering choices. Line-walking excitement. Adventure. Heart-shattering awareness. Really sexy dancing. Sobbing release. Play!


That's what I want. And I want you to have it, too. Because I think it's a keyhole to happiness. Not a turn-key. Not an easy entrance. An opening. An opportunity. Danger, included. Heart-thumping, and all. Choosing freedom over fear. Practicing alertness and innovation. Fessing up about all the ways love is lost on you. Granting access to the aching excitement of truth.

I hope somehow, sometime soon, this door opens wider for us both. And somehow, sometime soon, you will open more doors in my heart that I don't yet know exist. I'm here listening for any clues you have to offer, listening for when and how to move. The truth is, you've already moved me this far. As much as I love where I am, I love the motion most.

Today, I'd be honored if you told me anything true. Anything at all, really. The comments are yours for the taking. And I'll respond to every one of them.

being love

i wanted to write a poem about this history of love in my life
and i wanted the ending to be happy
you know... as if i'm at the end

which made me realize that the poem i needed to write
was much different than the poem i wanted to write

i need to write a poem about endings
which means i need to write a poem about beginnings
which means i need to write a poem about moments

but i don't know how to write a moment
because i barely know how to live one

because i'm wrapped up in the idea of i
and i'm stuck on the story of me
and i'm lost in the ego of alone

have you felt this way?

by which i mean, do you feel?
by which i mean, does your heart beat faster at the conduction of your thoughts
and do your thoughts lead you down paths to places
other than the present?

this poem is not a happy ending
because poems are not endings
they're not even beginnings
at worst, they're a saying
at best, they're a being

and i'm just trying to be true
trying to expose myself to you
trying to shed back the layers of story
and bring forth the moment in it's glory
but moments don't always feel glorious when we're caught up in feeling

do you remember how it felt to be broken?
do you remember how it felt to be born?
do you remember how it felt to be free?

are you longing for a feeling?

do you breathe?
do you bask in the sun?
do you sit with the wind?

i want to believe that my story has only happy endings
but what if i let my story fall away?

what if the wind and i are one?
what if my skin touches the sun just as much
as the sun touches my skin?
what if breathing is something that happens to me,
not something that i do?
what if i stopped trying to be true?

would a moment grace the page?
would words leave these lips?
would people hold each other?
would we forget?
by which i mean...would we awaken?
by which i mean...would we love?

So many things I wish I knew how to tell you...

Really. There are.

I wish I knew how to tell you all the stories of all the times when I was just about to give up hope, but something came along and turned the tide in my direction.

Or that I know how it feels to compromise myself for the possibility of love, but that the only way real love has ever evolved in my life was from the stubborn determination to Offer Who I Am.

Or how hard it feels to stop telling myself lies about my own self-worth and potential. But how deep the pay off is when I do.

Or how much I'm riding on trust.

I wish I knew how to tell you that in between my endless pout over living in a basement apartment, there are moments in the early morning when that big jewel in the sky shines her rays right through my one window, right onto my morning cup of coffee, and warms my hands, reminding me to slow down, to be present.

I wish I knew how to tell you without so much fear that I have art waiting for you. That I've been creating like crazy over here, and that soon I'm going to let you in on my creations and pray that you'll want one.

And I wish I knew how to tell you that I know I'm making compromises right now--playing the "working woman" role, and leaving less time than I'd like for my soul work. But how I also know that I need this--at least one month without complete havoc over how I'll pay my rent.

I wish I knew how to tell you that I'm not afraid of the living the life I'm meant to live--I'm not afraid of my path. I'm ready for it. Today. This very minute. But even still, I find myself coming up against new edges, new fears, and having to contract again in order to expand again.

I wish I could tell you that I know what it's like to feel lost from my path. Like the universe is not on my side. When I'm wishing and dreaming and things still aren't coming true. But that all those things are part of my story. Part of the sadness and the struggle and the resistance that help me hope with even more heart.

I wish I knew how to tell you that having you here with me gives me courage, gives me trust, and helps me believe that I'm meant for this.

We are in this together. Our dreams are waiting for us. And the world needs us to be true to our hearts. Especially now during such desperate times. The world needs us to create more beauty--and beauty doesn't come from waiting for the right situation, the perfect moment, a better economy, or enough credentials. Beauty comes from the broken, the vulnerable, the honest, the true. It comes from the hopeful heart.

Today, even when I don't know how to express myself like I'd prefer, I come to you from my heart, offering myself to you as a partner-in-dreaming, hoping you'll say Yes.