Seduce Thyself, Sweet Lover

There's a way that we as humans crave comfort and ease. Can I get an Amen?

Part of how we manifest that craving is by expecting others to comfort us and make our lives easier--by demanding others to fulfill our needs and desires for us.

This lovely little habit is quite common. Even the best of us have subtle addictions to victimization and powerlessness. (She raises her hand quietly in the back of the room, nodding in agreement... that's me, that's me).

The dialogue goes something like this...

Why can't you just know that I need to be touched more? 
Who wouldn't want praise or affirmation daily? 
How could you expect me to meet you downtown when I'm clearly so exhausted?

The problem with this approach is we're putting an unreasonable amount of power in someone else's hands. The pressure's external. They gotta get it right for things to feel right.

We're treating others as if they could know us and advocate for us, as well as we can know and advocate for ourselves. It seems comfortable and easy. Like way less work than, you know, satisfying ourselves.

Howevah--we all know through pleanty o' trial and error that most people are not psychic shape shifters and cannot deliver all of your needs and desires on demand. We know this, intellectually, but we're not always willing to break our addiction to being comforted or provided for by others.

The results? Disappointment, resentment, anger, misunderstanding, dissatisfaction... You know the list. (Not so comfortable or easy, after all...)

The shift that changes everything is in forming a new practice: a practice of owning your experiences, your life, and your happiness--and feeling empowered to give yourself what you really want and need.

It's not a practice that says, To be happy I have to be in it alone and do it all myself. No, no. It's an practice that says, The fullness and richness of my happiness is equivalent to the depth of my ownership and my commitment to realizing it.

These questions can help:

How well am I, myself, honoring my needs and wants? How wildly am I seeing, choosing, and seducing my own deep desires?

Wanna practice? 

Make yo'self a list.
As if you're writing to your soul mate, your best friend, your favorite lover with clear instructions about all of your most precious parts and how to love them most effectively.

Love me for my body -- it's beauty, it's magic, it's rhythm, it's limits, it's strength -- no pushing it when it's tired... honor it's power, tend to it's desires for healing, touch, tenderness
Love me through sex -- as an exploration, an experiment, a spiritual act, an animal act... as a way to be amidst mystery -- wild and divine -- scary, liberating, silly
Love me by helping me do small things -- like laundry, or bills, or carrying things that are heavy
Love me for my creativity -- my way of moving through the unknown with a unique and honest rhythm
Love me by participating in my daily rhythms -- slow meals, togetherness, ease, convenience, family, community, sharing, giving

etc...

Post that list in a visible place with this invitation strung largely above it:

I am the lover I've been seeking. How shall I seduce myself today?

And know that I'm over here workin' this practice daily. It's growing me up. It's teaching me a lot about responsibility and ownership, independence and connection, trust and acceptance. Mostly, it's teaching me how to revel in myself, when sometimes, there's no one else there to revel with me. When sometimes, the house is empty, the chili's on the stove top, and the only person to dance with in the kitchen is myself. So I do. The only one to see me is myself. So I snap a photo. And the only one to bow down and say, Here... let me set the table for you, get you a drink, pull out your chair, darling... is me. So I say it. Outloud. With a giggle, that Yes... I can give myself this much love and care, I can see myself in all my beauty and strength and desires, I can love this precious girl for her sweet ways... I can seduce her, even, with delightful surprises. Who knew it could be this good?


**Feel free to share your list. Comments, e-mail, snail mail... I always, always have my door open for fellow travelers. But mostly, I hope that today, you give yourself the gift of traveling with your beautiful self.

love, love, love,
rach

Darkness, Born.

I've got this new line that I live by. It's in response to the Emma Goldman quote, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution."

There will be mystery at the revolution. That's all I know now.

There will be darkness and We Will Not Know Where We Are Going. That's what happens when you  turn the ship against the tide, with no real map or compass for the land you're headed to.

All you get is your body and a choice: Will you journey in the dark, getting bumped up and bruised, as you seek the door knob to the next light room? Or will you sit frantically wishing that you could see--that you could make sense of the dark in your mind without ever wandering through?

Some of us seek a life with the lights on, always--not trusting that if we reach out our hands we will find our way in the unknown. But for the darkness walkers, the shadow trekkers, perhaps nothing matters more than friends... people to journey with, to help you know you're not so alone or insane or absolutely ludicrous for thinking you could turn that ship around all by yourself with little fuel and no direction... people to tell you that if you just keep meandering your way, the light will come, you will be unstuck, you will not regret your journey.

Alone, in the dark corners and caverns of adventure, there is paralysis, there is doubt, there is absolute hatred for how reckless you must have been to land in this pitch black terror. But if you keep going, there are breaths, tiny steps, and soft hands extended, asking Will you travel with me? Will you hold me when I get scared? Will you remind me that trying to see the light won't make it so--that the only way out of the dark is through old fashioned feeling, hands-out exploration, a mysterious navigation with no map but your own?

What is it about touching your two hands to the walls, following something strong and firm until you finally find a soft opening?

A mind's journey will only take you so far. Your body knows how to move courageously, how to dance and dance in the dark.

The Best Advice I've Ever Followed

 

Madeleine and Jen on the kitchen couch--a mother-daughter sweetness built on freedom, love and friendship.

A year ago, she would say things to me and I'd have no clue what she meant. All I knew is that her words didn't come from a place of ego or trying to be wise. No--they came from Hell. And Hell's the only real trustworthy classroom. At least that's what seems to be true from the little life I've lived. Our sob stories are our salvation when we grow through them. Our shit turns to gold if we learn how to process it correctly. And sometimes, years of suffering in a certain shade or shadow, is just enough to push us into a cosmic kind of light. (And we're still left bemused; how did it take me this long to understand; to see clearly?!)

These days, we call each other on our cell phones from the floor above or below, beckoning each other into bed to tell stories of our latest escapades. Was I foolish? Have I said too much? Who knew that our lives could be this much fun? The top of the mountain is just as torturous as the climb. I forbid you to say another word. Only dancing and snapping allowed. I just love you.

During one of our day-lit pillow-lounging confessionals a few short weeks ago, she told me the best advice I've ever followed. Ever ever ever.

The only thing that's certain, ever ever ever, she said, is that everything around us will change. So if you don't like the spot you're in--if you want everything to truly change--Do Nothing. 

My antenna raise and quiver. Huh? (I know the plot's about to thicken when Jen Lemen leaves me with a blank-faced Huh?)

Yes!-- She smirked in a serious kind of way. When you keep doing, keep striving, keep trying to change things--you're just repeating your usual patterns and ways. Nothing changes. Not really. 

But if you truly Do Nothing--nothing at all--everyone else will keep moving around you, and when your part falls through, the world will scramble, and everything will be revealed.

Let them lead. Do Nothing.

Terrified, confused, and confident, I did everything in my power to Do Nothing. No conversations. No deep listening. No problem-solving. No sexing. No brainstorming. No facilitating. Nothing. Openness. Deflection. When asked to fill my usual Do Something shoes, I'd say--

"I just want to Do Nothing for now."
"Your call."
"What do you think?"
"I trust you to decide."
"There's nothing to be done here. Nothing wrong. Nothing at all."
"I love you but I need some space."

It took two days for my entire life to transform. 

The whole ship changed directions. It was a painful, heavy load to move without moving a muscle, like being crushed or being stretched and having no say or no power--just surrender, just Yes.

I gambled without knowing what I was gambling for. I gambled for a chance at new; for a release from the stale air we were beginning to despise.

And my gamble was small compared to many--I didn't leave my husband or my country or my job or my addiction. I left one box that I no longer fit into; hoping and praying that something would be able to hold me.

The truth is--this new space is still hard (everything is), but I'm glad I'm here. And I'm finding, oddly enough, that when you break down the walls of your boxes, you're left with a round, expansive Earth who knows how to hold every bit of every thing.


~~~

I'm over here wondering what your darkest days in Hell have taught you, and the best advice you've ever given or received? The likelihood that you'll comment with such deep revealing seems rare. (Is it just me, or is blogging a dying art?) Either way--I'm excited that you just might share your story. Written, spoken, or otherwise; I'd be thrilled to hear a bit of your truth. I've been so touched by honest connection lately. If you're seeking a bit, reach out!

Sending you love and gratitude for being part of my life here in this little pixel of a place. I appreciate you so much.

love,
rachael

ps--I love how raw and honest and alive Julie Daley is. Have you read her work? She's one of those people who seems to stay true to her natural expression, as opposed to trying to sell her worth/work. (So rare--so profound). This post is about spring and letting the earth kiss your feet. It's beautiful.

pps--If you're feeling sad or hopeful or resentful about love, this old country song might be good fuel for the fire. And sometimes, a fire needs to be fed and flamed before it can really die out.

ppps--I'm so proud of Jen and Ria and Henry for all their hard work launching the most exquisite of websites and missions. Take a peek at the little chicks and Hopeful World's new home.

for the best of the best--an homage

there are friends who leave you speechless
their wordlessness a song bigger than the beauty they sing
their ready eyes a moment's notice away from tears, just when you need them so

who forgive you when you've gone too far
who hold you when you refuse to open to so much pain
who fly out for your birthday, simply because you asked
who don't hold it against you when you can't return the favor
who stay out with you for the adventure that would never happen if you went in

there are friends who you can call back 10 minutes later to say 10 more things
even when they're out of time
even when there's other stuff to do
even when the kids have yet to fall asleep

friends who buy you dresses or chocolate or a nice bottle of red
who you tell your secrets to--who keep your shame at bay
who laugh just a few minutes longer, because we all know we all need the release

yes--there are friends like this
but they are few and far between
and when you find them, you are wise to sing their praises--
to hoot n' holler in just the right tone, any time they need support
to love them in all the ways you know how
because they are beyond worthy, and anything less would be sin

you are wise to write them poems
to sing them hallelujahs
to fill boxes to the brim with so much joy and magic
and keep nothing for yourself because you two--
you are truly, fully, together
and together is everything
nothing is better
together, together 
everything
magic
holy
yes

~~~

happy birthday wild & free, jodi. thanks won't ever say it all. i love you, i love you, i love you. wishing you succulence & adventure & peace & discovery during this cosmic trip around the sun!
yours always,
rachaela

a tree to existence: on loneliness

they think i just go through the motions, emotionless, at peace
but there are days--days and days and days
of dying and dancing and dangling by a tired thread

even we fear the claw, the coming winter,
the winds at night when no one is watching
even we taste the sour scent of rotted skin and flesh
lying lifeless beneath our reach

even we are overwhelmed by our
brightest moments--
our olive greens, our sage and steadfast stance
our giving and giving and giving
that asks for nothing in return

what alive knows not terror?
what living thing fears not the ultimate loss?

who that has died, would not answer Yes!
to all the torture and triumph,
all the wishing it weren't so,
given the chance to cry and shout out--
branches naked and free amidst a quiet sky?

~~~

for the trees, and bindu, and me and you and him and her and all the suffering in this wild world.