I don’t know about you, but I cannot remember a more dramatic fall season.
Hurricanes, elections, war, violence, colliding with unprecedented outpourings of support and activism.
It feels like everything old is falling away and being remade into something new and unexpected.
At times like this, there is nothing familiar to rest on.
There is no same old same old.
No ordinary, no predictable.
Rapid change is the new normal.
Not just globally, but inside every woman, every man, every child.
Rupture is everywhere.
So, last Monday, I came back from the four most glorious days in Miami, teaching “A Place Called Rapture.” It was one of the highlights of my teaching career. The women were awe-inspiring, the course was wondrous and powerful, and the sense of Sisterhood and Community was palpable, cellular. As if something larger than all of us was calling us forward, backward, and reassembling itself in real time.
And I came home and what did I do?
I immediately yelled at my kid.
Really, I did.
Full-on Crazy Mama moment.
And I realized something.
She had done nothing to deserve my outburst. She was just being all 15 years of herself.
And of course, I had lots of so-called excuses. I was exhausted after Miami. I am a single Mama. I run my own company. Blah blah blah.
But what was the real story?
The real story is this:
I was changed.
A Place Called Rapture transformed me.
It transformed me into even more of the woman I was born to become.
The mere mortal woman who is at once more than human, the Sister Goddess who is on a first-name basis with her capacity to live into and create rapture.
And upon first landing back in New York City, I was missing my access to that incandescent, indescribable place. I thought, Oh no, I am back home. Back to same old same old. Where there is no rapture.
I had forgotten.
Forgotten that I had both taught something and learned something in Miami. I had distinguished, captured, taught the architecture of how a woman finds her way back to her new Oz—that place called rapture.
And once I came to my senses, and remembered that—and took the requisite steps, including apologizing deeply to my daughter—I was transformed. And our relationship has transformed and gotten even better than it was before.
I wanted to share that technique with you today, because as we each move into the holiday season, temporary amnesia happens, just like it did to me.
And I want you to have a quick way of finding your way to reach for Rapture. Why?
Because Rapture is the experience of savoring whatever desires are on their way towards you, even if all your pieces have been tossed in the air. Rapture is gratitude. It is knowing that no matter how it looks, no matter what kind of chaos, what kind of change, what kind of drama, it is all ultimately working in your favor and you are in exactly the right place at the right time.
Rapture is when the human and the divine inside of you grab hands and tango.
And here is a quick way of finding your way back, when you have a case of temporary amnesia, like I had.
Thanksgiving Recipe for Rapture
1. Leave your head and sink into your body—circle your hips, roll your head slowly, move your body.
2. Touch your skin slowly—trail your fingers up your neck, through your hair, all over your gorgeous flesh.
3. State 3 gratitudes—right here, right now.
Once you have completed these three little steps, you will be reconnected to the very best part of you. Take this little exercise with you over the next few days—and to expand the fun even more, exchange a gratitude for this holiday season with everyone you encounter.
To kick us off, do parts one and two on your own, right now, and post three gratitudes in the comment section of this post.
And if you’d like to insert a little rapture into another woman’s holiday season, please share this post.
I wish you and yours the most blessed Thanksgiving Holiday.
With so much love and pleasure,
P.P.S. The Sister Goddess Community is going to join forces with V-Day–stay tuned for details on the dance break of the century. Watch this video!!