You don’t get here unless you follow through. Stage one: dream crafting. In progress. Stage two: the follow through. The show up when you’d rather skip the hard part. … When you think you’re just human and equate that to not being capable of extraordinary Beauty, remind yourself of your human ancestors. Remind yourself of the good that humans have done with little technology (relative to today) but with much conviction. And then let that fire under your bum burn so you may stand up and speak up for your dreams and for the dreams of others. So you may create a world where we love more than we hate, listen more than we speak, give more than we take. … May you remember that your existence impacts the world and may you follow through on your dreams with integrity….the small and the big ones. And may you always always dream a little bigger each day. With love, Maddy
It’s not linear. Nothing marvelous ever truly is. There is no order, only a perceived organization of the buzzing, beautiful chaos. Loosen your grip on certainty, on what you think you know so well. Dive in to uncertainty. What happens there? What happens as you face the moonlight, naked, unguarded by your facades? What happens when you step back a little and observe the heartbeat of the world? What happens when you stop enough to feel the aching heartbeat of the world? When you feel the aching dancing along with the joy in your own heart? What happens when it’s not linear, not according to plan? Because it really never is, is it? It never really is. It’s always just becoming and just ending, it’s always just existing and not yet coming together, it’s always just dancing that I know. Matisse–he always managed to string together the most random yet coordinated things. Like puzzle pieces, like the pieces of the soul, all fitting together in some magical way that makes no sense to the logical eye, but so much sense to the heart. Listen with your heart, it’s got a much better way of receiving information.
The method: Sip tea and write morning pages Meditate Embody presence: (mind+body+attention all in the same room at the same time) Hold ceremony Practice asana (Breakfast and a dance usually follows) Face the world After playing with many different morning routines, this is what works best. Sitting down to write those three pages before meditating shifts and releases the mangled morning energy. Some mornings, it’s like a wild zoo in there. So when I sit for meditation I can really enjoy just being present within my body and I can often delve much deeper into whatever journey is ripe for exploring in the meditation. Then I can bring my best attention to sacred ceremony–a space of open communication between my spirit and whoever/whatever else is present. My body by this point releases some of its morning fuzz stiffness and can begin asana. Try it. In earnest. Tell me how it goes. Send your questions and struggles with it. Make it your own. May we all show up to do our work before we openly engage with the world. So that when we do actively participate with the world, we can do so from a space of presence, of ground under
The tip of the iceberg. It’s quiet up here. The surface is unsteady. But there is so much hope. And the view from the tip of the iceberg, elegantly sitting atop the deep waters, is quite grand. Do you believe your body holds your stories, half of your unconscious contents, and half of your truth? I do. It’ll be a long journey to show you, but I don’t get a choice to walk away before my part of the job is finished. The work was embedded in my body long before I got a chance to say no. The work is big. Capital B big. It has to be. It’s monumental. It’s attached to the essence of being human. A very magical being once said, “you have big dreams don’t you?” and I was almost ashamed to say “yes,” but it’s true. I just hadn’t had the space or courage to openly share them until he uncovered that truth that lives within my body. The biggest dreams, the ones worthy of pursuing, are intimately tied to human suffering and collective healing. And so the iceberg may be mostly barren and uncertain now, but it’s got a whole lot of fiery
The last layer. _______________ It’s been hanging around, peering through the surface for a few days. I’ve noticed it sneaking. Funny how subtle some things are. If you move too fast you’ll probably miss the signs. Yet they come. Consistently, quietly, like the leaves softly change their coat to greet the autumn air. And so I am greeting this last layer without resistance, without hesitation, without regret. I’m greeting you with a softened heart so you may release to the ground like the autumn leaves descend in preparation for winter’s magical sleep. The sleep that recycles all that’s been shed and offered into the most gorgeous spring. And so, like the seasons pass, so shall the lingering to check in, to hold on to the fascade of responsibility, to the last bits of pain. I see you, I feel you, and I release. I release. I release. You are free to move through sweet energy. You are free to descend into earth, for she is a much bigger home and can house your needs much more than I can. You are free to return to where you truly belong. Our dance is ending, the lights are turning off, the rain
A gorgeous storm to wash it all away. And so much needs to be washed away. … Oil and water don’t mix well, but the patterns they co-create can take your breath away. … There is beauty in the power of storms. They come, drench, and graciously leave. There is beauty there. Strong beauty. You’ve just gotta stay rooted enough to experience it all as it rolls through. … Began this day when the clock struck 0 with a feeling of really being held by some magical foxing forces. _ A big ass oil slick blasted aflame in the middle. – But then, because the trust is real, the day ended with the same sweet feeling of being held. Truly deeply “feels-like-unconditional-sometimes” kinda held. Oh what a gift to be held like this. To be held wholeheartedly even as you bring all your messy grungy bags to the party too.
Desert road with all the wandering souls. Nothing quite like it. She captured my heart and sent sand flurries all the way down into my bones. Those deep craters and crevices in there that carry water (fact: there’s space and water in your bones…they’re malleable) now also carry this desert dust. . . Perhaps these dusty particles were always there, just asleep underneath layers of skin that needed to be shed. . . Ahh to shed. How freeing, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. . . Comes on in waves, unexpected where did that wave that just smacked me in the face come from type of waves. . . But waves. I’m slowly, steadily, learning to appreciate and open up to them. And they just keep getting bigger. Bigger. Bigger. More magnificent. More demanding of trust. More demanding of heart. More delivering of wilder magic. …. A myriad of thoughts tonight. It was an interesting day. A very sneaky one. With love, Maddy ✨
Let go and allow. Let go and feel. Let go and breathe. Breathe deeply. Now. Anxiety lives in the mind. It lives in the tangled creative jungle of your thoughts. A beautiful place to explore, but not a place to make a home in. So drop into your body. Right now. Do it through breath. Feel your breath. Don’t change it. Don’t perfect it. That’ll only cause more anxiety. Just observe and F e e L the reality of your breathing body in a moment. Just a moment. If possible, plug into earth. Plug your hands and feet deeply into her. Soften. She’s the source of all medicine. She’s the source of all you’ll ever need. Visit her daily. Daily. No excuses. You’re a compilation of earth particles. Pay homage to that regularly. It’ll reconnect you deeply when you’re feeling lost, when you’re feeling anxious, when you’re not feeling. With love, Maddy
Nourishing food doesn’t have to take a long time to make or cost a lot of money. When we commit even ten minutes to nourishing ourselves through food, meditation, a walk, yoga, etc. we recommit to our well being. This recommitment, when regular and not necessarily grandiose, feeds us far beyond what we initially realize. Sautéed kale + toasted pumpkin seeds Quinoa Olive oil, salt, pepper.
The most accurate definition of trauma is any event or situation that our mind or body finds overwhelming. Why? Because acute overwhelm is the catalyst for our fight-flight-freeze response. When we go into that biologically built response, several things happen within our body. Blood flow is redirected away from our extremities, digestion is slowed, adrenaline is released, tunnel vision is activated, and our psoas starts firing. This happens because our bodies developed to very quickly get us to safety. Sometimes that looks like sprinting away and other times it looks like playing dead or freezing–like when we encounter a bear and we need to just stay still. But most of us are not out in the woods where we’d encounter wild animals that we need to run away from or freeze at the sight of. Most of us live in a city or a developed part of the world and our modern-day bear is a traffic jam, a flood of work emails, little sleep, too many things on a to-do list. All of these inputs have the potential to turn on our primitive fight-flight-freeze response. We were never supposed to encounter the bear regularly. But now we do because from