And Then, Spring Came~ An Intimate Share

And Then, Spring Came~ An Intimate Share

This life is such a wild rascal Mystery; heart-slaying, heart-blooming Master. Isn’t it though?

How I cherish this sweet time of year, when the sun returns, tree buds blossom, and new flowers rise from the blackest soil. The resiliency of life surrounds us, triumphant birdsong fills the air, as we carefully, courageously untangle our hearts from the long, dark Winter.

A couple days ago my children and I discovered a nest in the hidden branches of a tree nestled up right next to our house! Quietly, respectfully, I climbed up the branches and peered inside to find a single, tiny turquoise egg shimmering in the nest. What a good sign. It made me cry with wonder.

This past Winter worked my heart fiercely, I won’t lie. So much unexpected, painful transition happened all at once, both personally and professionally. There was no choice but to surrender to the grand, sweeping hand of Change, and to let my living prayer get even bigger.

The fates required me to let go of my treasured partnership, neither for loss of love nor passion, and to embrace the excruciating disillusionment that comes when life does not go our way.

I finished writing my beautiful book “Holy Messy Love” and sent it off with wholehearted surrender into the world, only to be met with first a decline, and then weeks upon weeks of silence from other potential agents.

What a potent reflection all this has been. What a stunning beckoning of patience and faith. What a ruthless invitation to not move even an inch from love.

This has vulnerably exposed my most tender growing edges in relation to my calling. It has provided a catalytic illumination of my tenuous relationship with being a public figure, my shyly introverted ambivalence about increasing visibility, alongside my sacred yearning to share my heart with Life as boldly and generously as I can!

Last week after caring for my sick kids for days, I was finally walloped by this nasty flu virus—bedridden, coughing and aching, feeling truly miserable and somewhat sorry for myself. And yet, not unlike potent medicine journeys, illness can have such a skillful way of cleansing us of what no longer serves. At one point, lying in my bed with my feverish head pounding in the dark, I gave way to such a deep and necessary weeping from within.

Underneath all the strength and power of being such a capable woman—a single, hard-working mama, a trustworthy friend, inspiring teacher, devoted daughter and disciple of Truth—there was an utterly broken, weary heart, full of grief, just needing to be felt and seen, honored and allowed.

As I emptied myself of this deeply harbored grief, essential space was made in my body and heart for more life, more health and more gratitude. Thank you cleansing flu. Thank you grief. Thank you holy Mystery.

Thank you precious Life for how you keep me on my toes, always honing and refining my prayer and my promise. Thank you for your rough hands and your gentle ones, Life; for your grit and your grace.

Thank you for how you keep me humble; ever-close to the ground of what truly matters most; intimately close to the pulse of my own humanity; unspeakably close to this love I love most of all.

In this Love, xo yours

Easter Sunday

Easter Sunday

I was texting with one of my closest soul sisters earlier today. She had texted to wish me a happy Easter, and to share with me her overflowing heart of inspiration, following an astonishingly beautiful church service she had just attended.

This is of the most devoutly spiritual women I know, an elegant medicine woman of fierce truth and grace, and yet not unlike myself, is not someone who has identified herself as Christian.

She had taken her children to this Easter Sunday church service with an open mind and heart, and then had been utterly blown away by the raw, freshly alive transmission of radiant Christ teachings the entire sermon had delivered. My sweet sister’s heart gushed with palpable gratitude through her written words, and I felt blessed to receive vicariously through her divine encounter.

It got me thinking about Christ, the holy man and consciousness, and how private and intimate my love for Christ has always been. I was born an immensely spiritual soul, and yet raised inside a completely non-religious family. In this freedom from organized religion and indoctrination, I was allowed to remain innocent in my direct love relationship with God. I experienced an undeniably sacred connection with Jesus, inside my innermost golden heart; a tenderly intimate and deeply personal love.

When at twenty-four, I had a major spiritual awakening involving being entirely consumed by the Sun, in which I lost my personal reference point as “a separate somebody” for six weeks, it could be said that Christ Consciousness was at the center of that realization, as I returned to Oneness with all life as Love.

On this Easter day, this potent resurrection teaching day, I contemplate the Love we get to live FOR, live IN, live AS.

What a precious gift—all these infinitely diverse ways we humans can be given to taste and know and name what’s essentially namelessly sacred and true. What a bountiful, generous mystery indeed. 

I turn towards Death, always ever-close, and nod—not for the first nor the last time—with tremendous, humble respect.

Tenderly, I consider: What remain of my precious life assignments, and what’s currently burning in my heart to give, to live, to serve? I ask myself: What do I need to offer up, in order to get even more fully out of the way?

 And how about you, my loves? What remains for you? What’s sacredly churning and divinely burning? What’s being sacrificed in you, so that the rebirth you long for can occur?

 When we show up wholeheartedly for the crucifixion, the miracle is bound to follow.

 What an honor it is to get to live and die and be reborn for this Love, in this Love, as this Love—over and over, again and again.

Ever-grateful to meet you here in this diversity of reverence, in this holy messy humanness, in this undying Love~

Xoxo Jesua


A Little Dose of Family Car Medicine

A Little Dose of Family Car Medicine

This morning, driving with my kids, I couldn’t help but notice Arayla (14) seemed a little forlorn and distant sitting beside me. Slightly concerned, I asked her, “Everything okay Babe?”

Her eyes conveyed tension, and she shrugged sadly, responding, “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know…”

I placed my right hand gently on her leg, asking, “Hmmm…I can tell something’s bothering you. Did something happen you want to share?”

She sighed deeply with an air of annoyance, and responded sharply, “No, I don’t think so.”  She turned away from me then, looking out her window, staring off into space. I took my hand off her lap, honoring her expressed boundary, and we were all quiet as we continued driving along.

I felt into Arayla’s energy with curiosity and wonder, silently empathizing with what must feel in moments like a super confusing time of multi-layered metamorphosis.

Then suddenly Ezra (10), from the back, mimicking my serious line of questioning, yet with a tone of wry humor, asked his big sister, “Arayla, are you a teenager?”

LOL. His silly question made us all giggle. I noticed the light-hearted medicine of his inquiry.

Then Arayla turned around towards him, nodding with genuine relief. She said, “Yeah, I’m a teenager. That’s totally IT…”

Leave it to Ezra to name it so succinctly.

Then Arayla took a deep breath, as she vulnerably confessed to both of us, “I actually think I have a serious case of teen-itis.”

I squinched up my face towards her in sympathy, “Oh gosh, really? Teen-itis? Ugh… that’s the worst!

She said, “I know. Sorry my energy is so off, guys! I seriously didn’t know anyone could feel so awkward inside their own skin, soul and personality—all at the exact same time! It’s amazing, actually.” She shook her head in miserable disbelief.

My heart swelled with tender love for her, feeling nothing but awe for her wondrous self-awareness.

I said, “Oh I feel you, sweet girl. And it’s OK. You are rocking this. We love you just the way you are.” She softened, smiling a little, taking this in. I glanced back at Ezra in the rear-view mirror, looking to him for a little big-sister-loving back-up, prompting, “Right, Ezra?”

Silence from Ezra.

And a moment later he said dead-pan, “I’m still thinking…”

This made Arayla totally crack up! The thought that her little brother had to think about whether she was loveable just as she was—teen-itis and all—totally broke the spell. She laughed hard and I laughed along with her. 

Ezra chuckled gloriously too, clearly pleased with himself. Ten points for humorous sibling rapport.

Our car-ride had transformed from being laden with weighty teen angst to one of playful family intimacy.

We arrived at Ezra’s friend’s house, and Ezra quickly opened his car door, eager to get to his playdate, running off as he tossed back cheerily towards us, “See ya!”

Arayla beamed at him: “Have fun!”

With immense fondness, I yelled after him, “I love you! See you later…”

Arayla and I drove onward. And inside myself I made a careful, grateful note of the tiny, mundane, easily-overlookable ways we get to show up as nourishing medicine for these ones we love. How truly easy it can be to catalyze deeper closeness and trust, simply through being ourselves.


The Golden Key of Unmet Yearning

The Golden Key of Unmet Yearning

Many years ago, I suddenly understood that even with all the extraordinary healing and freedom I had realized, I was still carrying a deep, unmet yearning in my heart that was profoundly impacting my life.

I experienced it as an almost constant sense of subtle, gnawing want. A want for something other than what was already here.

I don’t mean to say that I was consistently joyless or restless or ceaselessly searching. But it was almost as though there was a continuous underlying noise in my psyche– an underlying sound of subtle discontent, of yearning, of longing.

I also noticed I had to feed it, in order for it to thrive. I had to fuel it with my emotional and mental attention. And there was a slight pleasure I noticed in this as well.  A kind of pain/pleasure inside my relationship with this unmet yearning. It was almost as though I associated this presence of longing with aliveness itself. 

I recognized that for the most part in my life I had habitually projected this longing outwards, and usually onto the masculine, in a deep desire to be powerfully met and claimed by the home of true union. As I pondered the energetic signature of this yearning, and contemplated where else I had come in contact with it, I realized that almost everyone I knew, young and old, partnered and un-partnered, seemed to carry some version of this same unfulfilled yearning.

For some people it seemed to arise more around issues of work and life purpose; about reaching some financial ideal, or some external recognition of success. For still others I noticed this yearning was mostly concerned with spiritual realization or liberation; attaining some form of “ultimate enlightenment.”  

During a week of personal retreat away from my young children, in which I was given the rare gift of ample time to really examine this pattern of yearning, I allowed myself to become openly curious about it.

I found myself wondering if this longing was simply an unavoidable aspect of the human condition, or perhaps something more sacred? Emotionally and mentally it carried the signature of a subtle story of slightly masochistic suffering, and yet deeper than that I sensed it also contained what could be interpreted as a holy longing for The Beloved; a longing for peace, for truth, for rest. 

I remembered my teacher Gangaji saying to me once, “Your longing for God is God’s longing for YOU. Give yourself fully to this longing. Let it have you. This is holy longing.

I considered: what part of this unmet yearning of mine was “holy longing”?  What part was biologically or hormonally motivated? And what part was a socially conditioned, collective trance of suffering based on the assumption that something or someone was missing?

Finally, after tossing all of this around in my heart for days, I decided I would just turn and meet it, once and for all—this unmet yearning.

I was staying at Kripalu, a yoga retreat center in Western Mass., and one afternoon I took myself on a leisurely walk towards the breathtakingly serene Lake Mahkeenac. When I arrived upon the shore, and noticed I was the only person there, my sense of this longing grew more pronounced in my chest. I found a tall, empty lifeguard chair, and I climbed to the top of it, facing the exquisitely still lake. 

It was there, sitting in that lifeguard chair, that I decided I would just fully embrace this unmet longing. I would turn towards it, opening my heart completely to it. I wanted to meet it all the way, to finally “let it have me” and see what might happen.

The experience that followed was one of immaculate bliss; a feeling of being absolutely consumed by vast, golden self-love; nothing needed, nothing longed for; an open unfurling of limitless, bottomless self-love. 

I was Home. 

In this homecoming, I realized that this unrelenting longing I had carried in my heart was both incredibly human, as well as sacredly useful towards its evolving resolution.

It was a death of sorts, as that longtime habit of projecting my unmet yearning outwards came to a halting stop. But as I surrendered into this ending, what was revealed was a LOVE that is exquisitely full and whole in itself, while still tenderly open to the natural relational desires and sacred needs that come with my humanity.

When we allow our yearning to nourish our deeper wantlessness, inviting our surrender to the grace of true self-love and self-fulfillment, what an offering this is. When we aren’t looking to life, or to others, or to our work, or to “enlightenment” to give us whatever it is we imagine we are missing, then we can serve as a mirror for what’s already whole, already found, already home within us all. 

The intimacy of true self-love fuels a capacity and availability for intimacy with all of life. 

We do need each other. We humans are interdependent pack animals. Even the most innately introverted and shy and anti-social amongst us (ahem, such as myself!) still have a true human need for others. Without the ability to lean into one another for connection, for touch, for empathy, for a good laugh, for belonging, for love, it would be nearly impossible for us to survive, let alone to thrive.

And yet, as you realize yourself to be the greatest source of love and fulfillment you could ever know, and as I do the same, it lets the rest of life off the hook.

In the light of your bright and brave self-love, our entire world rests easier.

Burning Cleanly

Burning Cleanly

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“Courage” is a poem film, intended to transmit an inclusive perspective on Life, Love, and this precious, fleeting chance to show up generously as ourselves, and give what we were born to give.