LETTERS FROM LOVE: A Refresher
Back to basics, baby!
Dearest Lovelets —
Several years ago, I got a tattoo right over my sternum that says: I’M RIGHT HERE. I don’t want to frighten anyone with my midlife, mid-winter torso flesh, but here it is:
I wanted to have these words written on my body forever because they were the first words that the spirit of Unconditional Love ever said to me, the first time I wrote myself a letter from Love more than 20 years ago. In the worst and loneliest hour of my darkest night, I reached out into the void for comfort, and a voice replied: I’m right here.
And I have heard those same words repeated now thousands of times over the years, in the letters that I’ve written to myself from Love. Before anything else: a presence. A reassurance. I’m right here. You are not alone.
So imagine how amazing it has been for me over the last year, when I read YOUR letters, to see those very words showing up again and again in your missives. So many of you, too, are writing letters that begin with a presence saying I’m right here. Who is it?! A deity, an angel, a consortium of ancestors, a friendly alien, a dream — who? We don’t know. But something out there is saying the same thing to all of us: I’m right here. Because apparently these are the words we most need to hear. In a time of global loneliness and fear, and through whatever personal travails we are all facing — something is here with us. We are not alone. You can count on it. Heck, you can even tattoo it on your belly!
This week, we are doing a “back to basics” edition of the newsletter, which I like to do whenever we are near a major milestone of membership. There are just about 150,000 of us now, sharing this practice, these letters, this communion and community. Many of you are newcomers, so I want to warmly welcome you and explain exactly what it is we are doing here.
Most of all, I want to tell you all that you are not alone.
I’m right here, for instance, and I love you. And that’s just the beginning of it.
Cannot wait to read your letters this week, dear ones.
Let’s keep going — it’s getting so good!
Love,
Your Lizzy
Dear Love, what would you have me know today?
My child, our child — listen. Listen not only to what you hear in these letters to you, but in the letters that the others are writing and sharing. Listen for the astonishing similarities that run throughout these letters. Across the world, no matter what the age or the background or the gender of the person receiving the letter, the same messages come through again and again and again.
Almost as if we are trying to get your attention.
We ARE, in fact, trying to get your attention.
What do you hear repeated most often?
First: presence. A reassurance that the listener/receiver is not alone. A voice that says “I’m right here with you,” or “I’m not going anywhere,” or “I have always been here,” or “I will never leave you.” This does not seem to be negotiable. The message could not be more clear, sweetheart. For all of you. Something out there loves you, from the inside and from beyond. You are not alone. You could never be alone.
Next, what do you hear? Reassurance that you are fine just the way you are. When have you heard a letter from Love (to yourself, or to another) that laid out an AGENDA for some sort of self-improvement plan — to lose weight, or make money, or get stronger, to produce more, or give more, or, really, to change in any way whatsoever?
Isn’t this interesting? How much money and time have you spent in your life trying to change? Yet something, some deeply loving presence, is saying as clearly as can be, “You are perfect just the way you are.”
Almost as if you were designed to be who you are, on purpose.
And then? Then comes the release of shame. The promise that you have not been doing anything wrong, that you are not in trouble (how many times have you heard us saying that you are not in trouble?!), that you have no reason to hang your head, that you have no reason to feel disappointed in your life — none whatsoever. The opposite, the direct opposite, of what the cultural messaging of perfectionism has always been, that messaging that is making everyone so sick and unwell.
Then, this beautiful revelation — you are right where you are supposed to be, right on time, doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing. WHAT A RELIEF! You’re not behind! You’re not lost! It’s not too late! There have been no wrong turns.
What also comes through, again and again? A voice saying, “I am proud of you.” We are proud of you. We know what you have gone through. We know how hard it has been. We know how tired you are. We know how difficult it is to be a human. Again — you aren’t doing it wrong. You can’t do it wrong. There is nothing to win, yet somehow we see your victories. You’re doing great, kid. You’re all doing great.
And then there is the invitation to be more free. The invitation to take some of the weight off your shoulders. The promise that we don’t need you to save the world, or your family, or anyone. The invitation to let go and allow destiny to play itself out. The permission to accept things as they are, rather than trying to bend the world to your will. The permission to leave toxic systems, relationships, jobs, duties. The radical, absolutely radical invitation to take care of yourself, and to let everything else fall away. The promise that this itself is a gift to the world — the seeing of yourself as precious. The care that you deserve and have always longed for — can you offer it to yourself?
And lastly, when we have finally settled your nervous systems with all this reassurance and love, what do we invite you to do? To CREATE. What a great idea! To write, to make art, to sing, to dance, to cook, to garden, to crochet, to take photos, to raise flowers and animals, to rejoice in the participation of creation. Not only you, little mama, but every single person in this community who is receiving these letters. Create, create, create. Join us in the unfolding of creation by creating in your own way.
My love — you have read tens of thousands of these letters at this point, and you have written thousands yourself over the decades. We have been abundantly consistent. We need you to know that we are here, that we see you and love you, that we know how difficult Earth School can be, that we rejoice in you, that we want you to be free, and that we want you to create. What more can we say to get it through to you? All of this, for all of you, the highest love the universe has to offer for you.
We will never get tired of this. We could tell you these things all day. We want to. We want to tell you these things all day long. We want to tell everyone. We are so grateful that you are all listening. We love being with you. We love you. We never stop loving you. And my darling, my good listener, listen to this one last promise: we are just getting started.
Let’s keep going, little starlight. Let’s keep going. It’s only going to get better.
Prompt
This week we’re getting reacquainted with our trusty standby, the original, tried-and-true question that we can always pose once we’ve quieted our minds and bodies and feel ready to download a letter: Dear Love, what would you have me know today?
If you are feeling challenged by a particular problem and you’re wanting a more guided response, that works too. You can ask as specific a question as you like; one of the beautiful things about this system is that — aside from being accessible around the clock, for free! — it is infinitely customizable, so go ahead and make it your own.
Last week, we brought you the song SNOW ANGEL — which I created with my talented young friend Callie Miles and music producer extraordinaire Barb Morrison — and you have responded in the most overwhelmingly beautiful and generous way (because you are the most overwhelmingly beautiful and generous people)! Thank you for embracing this lullaby-hymn-act of creative fellowship as you have. It’s been such a joy to see this thing, which was just an idea last summer, make its way out into the world. You can listen to SNOW ANGEL here!
The last time I was in the neighborhood of Australia was just as the world was shutting down in March 2020, so I am *super* excited to be heading back in just about seven weeks to teach a weekend workshop in Sydney, followed by events in these cities:
Feb 1-2 – Sydney
Feb 5 – Melbourne
Feb 6 – Brisbane
Feb 11 – Hobart
Feb 13 – Adelaide
Feb 15 – Auckland, NZ
We will explore creativity and fear, mercy, purpose anxiety, presence — all the good stuff! You can find all the details here!
And now, the reason I suspect some of you subscribe to this newsletter: here is your weekly Pepita!
Have a beautiful week, family!
❤️LG
I haven't read the letter yet, because there has been a letter building within me this afternoon. A letter where unconditional love tells me what it would have me known about rage and anger. So here it it:
Dear Sweetie,
I see the weight you carry, not just in your body but in your very being—the weight of another’s rage, another’s shame, hurled at you again and again, etched into your tender muscles and fascia, leaving no room for ease or softness. I see the child you once were, standing in the storm of your mother’s fury, with no escape, no shield, no words that could ever be enough.
You were her target, her scapegoat.
Not because of who you were, but because of her own unhealed wounds, her own unmet pain, spilling over and consuming everything in its path.
Sweetie, it was never your fault.
You were never the cause of her rage. You were not the failure she told you that you were. That story belongs to her, not to you.
And yet, it lives in you still—in the way your muscles contract and refuse to release, in the way your breath catches when anger stirs. You’ve learned to fear what your body remembers, to fear the volcano that simmers inside you. Because you’ve seen what rage can do. You’ve felt its sharp edge in the words and hands of another. You’ve seen how it consumes, how it destroys, how it spirals out of control.
But Sweetie, hear me: your anger is not hers.
Her rage was untamed, unchecked, a force that sought to harm. Your anger is different. It doesn’t seek to destroy; it seeks to protect, to heal, to restore. It’s the part of you that knows you deserved better. It’s the part of you that stood up, even when you were told to stay small, even when you were punished for daring to push back.
That volcano inside you isn’t a threat—it’s a reservoir of power, waiting for you to tap into it safely, gently. Not to lash out, but to release. To give your pain somewhere to go other than inward. To free your body from the endless contraction, the holding, the bracing for a blow that no longer comes.
And now, I see you standing at the edge of a side canyon, where the air feels heavy with a cold that bites deep into the layers of your being. Its walls glisten with frozen water, a stillness that holds the echoes of suppressed rage and the weight of all you’ve endured. This is the place where your body has stored what it could not express, the frozen landscape of contracted muscles and fascia, where the simmering heat of your anger has been locked away, unable to flow freely.
This canyon isn’t lifeless, though it may feel barren.
The frozen water is waiting—not to shatter, but to soften, to melt. And, Sweetie, it is not force or fury that will thaw these frozen waters. It is warmth—your warmth. Compassion, love, care, tenderness, and kindness are the sun that will seep into these icy layers, drop by drop, moment by moment.
There’s no rush here.
Even in the cold, there is beauty.
These frozen waters are part of your story, part of how you survived. They are not your failure; they are your resilience. They held everything you couldn’t bear to feel at once. They kept you moving forward when the weight of it all might have stopped you. And now, they are calling for your attention, for the gentle heat of your presence.
What would it feel like to bring warmth to this canyon? To let the light of your compassion touch these frozen places? You don’t need to know how to fix it or force it to change. Simply being with it, breathing into it, is enough. As you place your hands on the places that ache—your shoulders, your back, your jaw—imagine that warmth flowing from your hands into the icy tension.
Speak to these places with tenderness:
_“I know you’ve carried so much. I see how hard you’ve worked to protect me. You don’t have to hold it all anymore. It’s safe to let some of it melt. I am here with you.”_
Let the warmth of your breath reach the edges of this canyon.
Feel the way even the smallest kindness begins to shift the frozen layers. This thawing will not happen all at once, and it doesn’t need to. It is a gentle process, one that respects the time your body needs to feel safe enough to release.
Sweetie, there is such strength in your tenderness.
The warmth you offer yourself now is the very thing that can transform this canyon. Each moment of compassion is like the sun rising over those frozen walls, bringing life back to the places that felt unreachable.
And as the ice begins to melt, you may find that what flows beneath is not only pain but also power—the power to feel, to move, to reclaim your body as your own. This canyon is not a place of punishment; it is a sanctuary, waiting for the warmth of your love to bring it back to life.
Sweetie, your anger is not the enemy. It is a part of you that longs to be freed, to be seen not as a destroyer but as a healer. And you are strong enough, wise enough, tender enough to meet it when the time is right.
I am here with you, in every breath, in every moment of tenderness you offer to yourself. You are not alone in this.
With infinite warmth and love,
Love
Dearest Lovelets-
I love you. I’m so grateful for each of you, as you have shaped my life in immeasurable ways. That there are nearly 150,000 of us is amazing!! And to all of the newcomers- welcome to the most loving, love filled space in the multiverse! I hope you’ll share your heart words, and if you’re afraid, please know that it’s okay, fear can ride shotgun but it can’t run the show. Let Love take the wheel instead. I don’t know if we’re driving or getting on a stage at this point, but what I mean to say is- don’t let anything stop you, in this particular space- sharing really is caring.
Thank you, Lizzy, Margaret and Pepita, for holding us all and loving us through this messy moment in time ❤️ Love you always.
Dear Love- what would you have me know today?
Little love, you’re okay. We’ve got you. We see you. We know you’re struggling and showing up anyway. Please know that you don’t have to, you’re allowed to do nothing. You’re allowed to rest. And by rest we mean being present with yourself and us if you need to. Deep breaths sweet squishy penguin cheeks.. open the window and let the cool air in. Let the breeze carry your worries away. Rest your anxious monkey mind punkin. You’re enough. You’re ok. You’re safe. Give everything to us just for a little while, we’ll hold it.
Let yourself be light.
We’re not going anywhere. We love you endlessly.
Xoxo,
Love