LETTERS FROM LOVE — With Special Guest Lewis Howes!

You are only irreplaceable

Dear Lovelets!

Greetings from the ever-expanding universe of everything-ness!

Have you all ever heard the term “tonic masculinity”?

Tonic masculinity is the direct opposite of toxic masculinity, and WE ARE HERE FOR IT. 

Tonic masculinity is an entirely different kind of way of being a man — a way that is rooted in a willingness to be vulnerable, open-hearted, and compassionate. A tonically masculine man is one who is willing to accept loss, grief, fragility, and his own mortality. And because he can accept the limitations of his power, he is also willing to accept the possibility that perhaps someone else might be more qualified than him, at any given moment, to lead, to preach, to teach, to make all the decisions, or to prosper. By voluntarily stepping down from their imaginary towers of illusory power, such men become a “tonic” — a healing presence within their families, their communities, and the world.

Margaret and I love ourselves some tonic men (or as she calls them, “good, good boys”!) and we also love asking them if they would be willing to write themselves letters for this project, just to see what comes through such an open and undefended heart.

This week, we bring you an exemplary tonic man: my dear friend Lewis Howes. Lewis caught my attention about ten years ago, when I first started hearing him (a star athlete, a big handsome guy, and a dude with a phenomenally popular podcast called THE SCHOOL OF GREATNESS) talking publicly about the sexual abuse he had experienced as a child, and how it had harmed him. It is difficult for anyone to speak openly about their childhood sexual abuse, but it is even more rare for men to openly talk about this suffering, precisely because of a toxic-masculine belief that boys and men are supposed to be invulnerable to attack and impervious to pain — even when they are children. But Lewis was brave enough to come forward, and he continues to explore the most tender recesses of his psyche, as he does his healing work in public — to the benefit of us all.

That willingness to be vulnerable is why I love Lewis so much.

On a more personal note, I also love Lewis because, when my partner Rayya died, he made the effort to fly all the way across the country to attend her memorial service — despite the fact that he had met Rayya only once. He came to the service that day to show his solidarity to me, even though we were relatively new friends. I was so surprised and touched by his kindness, and the giant hug he gave me that day was one of the most viscerally healing moments I experienced during that difficult, heartbreaking event.

Thank you, Lewis.

Thank you for your heart, and for being part of our community. We love the innocent five-year-old boy whom you once were, and we love the tonic man you have become.

And thank you for your beautiful letter, and for its message affirming your innate value. Thank you for the courage to say aloud that you are worthy of being loved, despite all the toxic messaging you ever received in your life, and despite how anyone ever treated you.

We most certainly do love and value you around here.

Love,

Your Lizzy

Dear Love, what would you have me know today about my value?

Ewww, baby! The question itself makes us shudder and recoil. If we had stomachs, it would make us sick to our stomachs! If we had mouths, this question might make us throw up in our mouths.

Your value?

Your value to WHAT?

Your value in terms of what you produce? The measure of your importance? The depth of your “influence” (another word that makes us feel a little queasy)? How much of an impact you have, or what sort of legacy you will leave behind? How loved and treasured you are? The weight or measure of your goodness? Whether you have performed well or poorly in Earth School? Your grade?

Darling, no. Just: NO.

Cultural systems and the engines of progress all measure value in people because they MUST. Most families and communities measure value, too, because they don’t know any better way of thinking. Therefore, so much that you humans experience in Earth School is about trying to prove that you are valuable.

This makes us sad.

We get sad as we watch you all down there hustling and struggling to prove your worth and your relevance — not only in the marketplace of commerce, but in the equally devastating marketplace of human relationships, where everyone seems to be trying to figure out if they matter or not, and to whom, and how much, and for how long.

“I would die for you” is the highest declaration of love your species has ever landed upon, and so this becomes the ultimate measure of your value: would someone die for you? Would they kill for you? Would they do anything for you? How much are they willing to sacrifice on your account, to prove that you are valuable and irreplaceable? And it feels very exciting, doesn’t it, when someone legitimizes your existence by valuing you. But what if you are replaced — by a younger model, by a new employee, by a different and more exciting distraction, by the robot army, by a dawning new era of a scary new world, where nobody knows the rules anymore?

The problem with all this, dear heart, is that it’s a zero-sum game. And you already know the rule about zero-sum games: the only way to win is not to play at all. And I mean it: NOT TO PLAY AT ALL.

Now, listen. This doesn’t mean replacing your currently toxic ideas about your value with an allegedly higher idea of your value — in other words, saying “I am valuable not because of what I produce, or how much status I have gained, but because of the quality of my heart.” You think that sounds better, right? Sounds more honorable and ethical, and like a high teaching? Honey, trust us, it’s no better — because that sort of thinking still keeps you trapped in the prison of needing to find proof and measure of your worthiness at all, and we would like you to not engage with such a limiting concept EVER.

Because what happens if you meet someone who seems to have a “better quality” heart than you? What happens then? Do you now have less value than they do? Because they are a better human being than you are? Kinder? More compassionate? And therefore, don’t they seem more important?

Sweetheart, do you see how venomously this snake still bites, no matter how ethically you try to reframe it?

Please, child, just drop the snake altogether and walk out of the jungle of your beliefs while you still can, before it kills you.

What do we want you to know today about your value? Only this: we do not measure you in such limiting terms. Not at all, not ever. Not any of you. We do not measure, weigh, judge, compare, or grade any of you — because we cannot. We cannot, because you are too precious and priceless to be valued.

Do you remember the story your grandfather told about the time he accidentally kicked over an ancient vase at some rich person’s home, and it shattered into an uncountable number of pieces, and when he gasped in horror at what he had done, the hostess just smiled at him with genuine warmth, and said “Oh Stanley, don’t worry about it at all — it was only irreplaceable.”

Do you see how relaxed she was? Why worry about breaking something that is only irreplaceable? It was here for a moment, being beautiful, and then it was gone. It was too magical to worry about.

So it is with all of you.

Every one of you souls — every unpredictable moment of life, every wild expression of creation — it is only irreplaceable.

If only you knew, little turtle. If only you knew how beautifully irreplaceable you all are!  

We love you so much it literally makes the stars explode. We can’t do anything about that! We let them explode into uncountable numbers of pieces. And then we just smile, and shrug, pick up the pieces of stars, and start making new people all over again. Each one of you is just as valuable as the last.

This is the only thing that is ever happening around here.

Know this to be true.

We love you.

Prompt

This week’s subject gets to the very essence of this project. Are we worthy, and why? Where does our value lie? How do others value us? And what is our value in the grand scheme of things? This week, you might pose this question: Dear Love, what would you have me know today about my value?

I had the great honor last week of teaching in New Mexico alongside my beloved friend and mentor (and Letters From Love alumna!) Dr. Tererai Trent. This is what love looks like. While we were there, we got to see a comet that only comes around every 80,000 years or so. This is also what love looks like. (Photos by the wonderful Cookie Kinkead: www.cookiekinkead.com)