“Spiritual Bypassing is DANGEROUS” How To Face What You’ve Been Running From To HEAL & THRIVE
Table of contents
- Healing starts when you face the darkness instead of running from it; turning pain into art can light the way.
- True healing comes from embracing all your feelings, not just the positive ones. It's about finding strength in vulnerability and learning to love yourself through every messy moment.
- Healing begins when we face our suppressed emotions instead of bottling them up; it's the only way to truly reclaim our peace.
- Facing postpartum depression is daunting, but seeking help—especially medication—can be a lifesaver. It's not a failure; it's a necessary step towards healing.
- Self-love isn't just a nice idea; it's the foundation for everything else. When you learn to nurture yourself, you create the strength to handle life's chaos.
- Sometimes, the greatest triumph isn't in the accolades or sales, but in the healing and joy found in the process. Embrace where you are, and let go of the pressure to be perfect. Just show up.
- True freedom comes from surrendering to the journey, not chasing external validation.
- Letting go of the need to control every thought can lead to a deeper sense of peace and connection. Embrace the chaos, acknowledge your fears, and co-create your life with faith.
- Embrace every part of yourself, even the fears and anxieties, because true change starts with radical acceptance of what is.
- Parenting is a journey of learning and unlearning, where setting firm boundaries with love is key to raising resilient kids.
- Becoming a mom can amplify your creativity instead of stifling it; the experience of creating life fuels your artistic expression in ways you never imagined.
- Let go of the pressure to perform and just show up; your job is to be a clear vessel for the magic to flow through.
- True connection with God often comes through our deepest pain, transforming it into something beautiful and meaningful.
- Art often emerges from our deepest pain, transforming suffering into something beautiful and profound.
- When you finally surrender in your darkest moments, you unlock a direct connection to the divine that transforms everything.
- Embrace your pain; it's the path to your growth and healing. Accept what is, and you'll find the strength to change.
- Radical acceptance is the first step to real change; feel your feelings, let them out, and embrace who you are.
- Embrace your feelings, let them flow, and nurture yourself; that's where true healing begins.
- True greatness is the ability to love and accept yourself fully, embracing both your light and your shadows.
Healing starts when you face the darkness instead of running from it; turning pain into art can light the way.
I was bottling it up, and that's where the spiritual bypass comes in and is dangerous. I had learned this positive psychology of thinking good thoughts and manifesting things. The idea was to not stay in the darkness because then I wouldn't be able to manifest the good stuff, and I would just manifest more bad stuff. I think that’s really unhealthy. I wish more people talked about it and understood it from someone who’s really suffered with their mental health. No matter how much love you receive, it’s never going to be enough if you’re not finding it within.
Rachel Platten, the international singing star and winner of the songwriting sensation award, shared her experience: “I was at the lowest I’ve ever been in my life. I was terrified; I didn’t know how to keep going. I screamed on the floor of my studio, ‘Mercy, Mercy, I’m done!’ Little by little, I looked at the dark and turned it into songs. I transmuted my pain into art. I felt a presence that I had never felt in my life. I’ve always written with something, but I didn’t know what it was that was flowing through me. That night, I knew without a doubt that that beautiful piece of art came through that pain. There had to be something bigger than me in this world. You just need one little light to light up the dark, right?”
When asked what she would say to her younger self on how to heal with the wisdom she has now, she mentioned, “I just wrote myself a letter.”
Transitioning to another topic, Louis How, the host, expressed gratitude for the audience's presence and shared excitement about the upcoming Summit of Greatness, an annual conference happening this September in Los Angeles with notable speakers like David Goggins and Dr. Joe Dispenza. He encouraged everyone to click the link in the description to get tickets, stating, “I can’t wait to see you at the Summit of Greatness here in Los Angeles.”
Returning to the School of Greatness, Louis welcomed Rachel Platten back, noting her inspiring presence. He remarked, “This is the basement, the home HQ of where we’re doing the School of Greatness, and it’s so good to see you here. We are neighbors, for people that don’t know, which is one of my favorite things. When I moved into this home, I didn’t know you lived in the neighborhood. But then I saw you walking around one day, and I was like, ‘Do you live here?’ and you said, ‘Yeah, right here!’ I was like, ‘No way!’ So, it’s incredible. I’m so grateful every time I leave my home; I know that you’re there. I feel peace and harmony.”
Rachel responded, “It feels good. Me too, it feels good.” Louis then mentioned that this was Rachel’s third time on the show, acknowledging the significance of her return. “Three is a lot. I mean, it’s pretty special. If you come back a third time, maybe only like ten people have been on three times, so it’s a big deal you’re here.”
Reflecting on their past connection, Louis noted, “I met you probably around 2018 or 2019,” to which Rachel corrected him, saying, “I really think it was closer to 2016.” They reminisced about their connection during the time of her hit song “Fight Song,” which was before her second record.
Louis continued, “I’ve watched you through the journey of the last eight years. You know, we go on walks sometimes, and I hear about the stuff you’ve been through in the last even two years, last six months even. There’s a lot that’s happened in your life, a lot that’s happened in your career, your health, family, and all these different things. I want to talk about how you’ve been able to manage it all—from essentially driving in a van for almost a decade around the country performing your songs to small audiences of 5, 10, or 30 people at a time, sometimes even in living rooms, and living out of a van, to then having the number one song in the world with ‘Fight Song’ around 2016. After that, you started a family and took some time off from music—not fully, but not driving the music career at the highest level and not being, let’s say, at the number one peak position relevant as you were with ‘Fight Song’ for a few years. Now, you’re trying to come back through a whole healing journey, and even last year alone, you were struggling.”
True healing comes from embracing all your feelings, not just the positive ones. It's about finding strength in vulnerability and learning to love yourself through every messy moment.
I want to talk about how you've been able to manage it all, from essentially driving in a van for almost a decade around the country, performing your songs to small audiences—sometimes just 5, 10, or 30 people at a time, even in living rooms—to then having the number one song in the world with "Fight Song" in 2016. Following that, you started a family and took some time off from music. Although you weren't fully absent from music, you weren't driving your career at the highest level, and you weren't at that number one peak position as you were with "Fight Song" for a few years.
Now, you are trying to come back through a whole healing journey. Last year alone, you were struggling. We went on some long walks together, and you were emotionally struggling, trying to figure out meaning and purpose. You were questioning, "What am I doing? Should I launch more music?" All these different thoughts were swirling in your mind, along with dealing with postpartum challenges related to your kids.
So, my first question is: how are you doing? Hearing it all reflected from someone who knows you and sees you is really wild. I'm just living in my own mind and body, experiencing it through my own eyes. But hearing it all, it's quite a story. If you were telling me that story, and I was listening to a podcast, I would be thinking, "Yeah, how the heck is she doing?"
You responded, "I'm doing well. I really am doing well, and I’m really happy right now. I'm tired and a little overwhelmed, but I'm really happy. I feel really proud of where I'm at. I feel really strong, energized, and on purpose again. I feel really supported and loved, and I feel okay. You know, it's a miracle. I did not know, on those walks that we took during those long nights of insomnia, that I would ever be able to be back here."
When I asked what "back here" means, you explained, "Back here means about to release a record. You know, doing this again—it's wild! I'm putting out a body of work in three weeks, or I don't know when this will come out, but September 3rd. It is my favorite thing I've ever created. I really feel like it's the first proper introduction of me to the world, and I am incredibly proud to be here again. To be healthy enough to put myself out there and be vulnerable while balancing it with my kids, who are very little—I love who I've become. I'm really proud. This joy that I feel is earned; it's not an untested joy. It's an earned confidence. I have found these tools that are amazing, and I've learned how to support myself and give myself what I was always looking outside for, so I feel ready."
Speaking of tools, I’ve heard you talk in a recent interview about how, in LA, a lot of people spiritually bypass their feelings and just lean into positivity—only thinking good thoughts. You mentioned, "Yeah, I did that for years." So, what were the tools that supported you in feeling your feelings without getting caught in depression, while also not spiritually bypassing but reaching a healthy place in your mind and body at the same time?
You replied, "It's such a good question. I mean, it was probably the most important thing I've learned because, as an artist and songwriter, my emotional range is humongous. As a new mother, that range has expanded even more. So, I had to learn how to allow it all, how to work with it, and how to love myself through all of it. As I teach my daughters that it's okay to feel your feelings, I learn it for myself. A lot of it has been about mothering. It’s interesting; I'm sure any parent knows that as you go through the different ages of your child, you revisit those ages in yourself. I’ve had to do a lot of healing around three-year-old Rachel, four-year-old Rachel, and five-year-old Rachel. My daughter just went to kindergarten three days ago, and I couldn't believe how much I remembered from kindergarten that I thought I had forgotten."
You continued, "There were a lot of ways I did it. One of the most profound was a journaling practice from a woman named Nicole Sachs. She has an amazing community and a podcast called The Cure for Chronic Pain. I don't know if I told you, but in addition to dealing with the anxiety journey and the postpartum journey, I dealt with chronic pain for two years."
I asked about the pain, and you clarified, "It was in my back and my hip." You concluded, "What I learned was that it was all the same thing.
Healing begins when we face our suppressed emotions instead of bottling them up; it's the only way to truly reclaim our peace.
In my journey of healing, I have had to confront and work through the ages of three-year-old Rachel, four-year-old Rachel, and five-year-old Rachel. Recently, my daughter started kindergarten just three days ago, and I was astonished by how much I remembered from my own kindergarten experience, memories that had seemingly been buried. There were many ways I approached this healing process, but one of the most profound methods was a journaling practice inspired by Nicole Sachs, a woman who has created an amazing community and hosts a podcast called The Cure for Chronic Pain.
In addition to navigating my anxiety journey and postpartum challenges, I also dealt with chronic pain for two years, specifically in my back and hip. What I learned through this experience was that all of these issues were interconnected; my back pain was tied to my anxiety, and my headaches were part of the same narrative. My nervous system was in a constant state of anxiety, and I found myself overwhelmed by various concerns. I was anxious about the pandemic, the arrival of a new baby, and how my older child would adjust to having a younger sibling. I also worried about my career—wondering if I would ever be relevant again, if my moment had passed, and how I would manage financially as the breadwinner. On top of that, my mom had cancer, my husband passed a kidney stone, and my uncle died. While I recognize that my struggles are no worse than what others experience, it all piled up, and I was bottling it up inside.
This is where the concept of spiritual bypass became dangerous for me. I had learned about positive psychology, which encouraged thinking good thoughts and manifesting positive outcomes. However, I realized that repressing my feelings for too long was unhealthy. When emotions are suppressed, there is only so much that our emotional well can hold before it begins to overflow. Once that happens, our nervous system signals that we are in a state of fight or flight, and our bodies react in various ways—whether through hip pain, migraines, anxiety, panic attacks, or dissociation. I needed to learn how to dip a ladle in and scoop out the reservoir of emotions I had been holding onto.
To facilitate this process, I engaged in therapy, medication, journaling, and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). I had to confront the suppressed rage, fear, and grief that we all carry as humans. From a young age, we learn that certain emotions are unacceptable, leading us to repress them. While this repression can be necessary for social functioning, it becomes problematic when our emotional well becomes too full. In those moments, our bodies often choose pain as a safer alternative to experiencing the true terror, rage, or grief we feel.
I had to approach my emotions with compassion, telling myself that we would look at them together and that it would be okay. I learned to explore the darkness safely and with resources. Gradually, I began to transform my pain into art, turning it into songs and shining a light in the dark. This process was akin to illuminating a dark room with just one small light; once I did that, I realized that facing my fears wasn't as dangerous as I had imagined. It was scary and challenging, but I understood that I wasn't going to die from it.
When reflecting on my postpartum depression and anxiety, I think the scariest aspect I needed help with through EMDR was the insomnia. There was a period when I couldn't sleep at all for three nights—not a wink of sleep, not a second. The terror stemming from this insomnia was largely due to my hormones and anxiety. It was a month after giving birth, and my hormones were in disarray, particularly with the drop in progesterone and the accompanying stress.
Facing postpartum depression is daunting, but seeking help—especially medication—can be a lifesaver. It's not a failure; it's a necessary step towards healing.
In the dark, I started looking around and realized that this isn't so dangerous. You know, it's scary and it's hard, but I'm not going to die. When reflecting on what I was most scared of facing during postpartum depression and anxiety, I think the scariest thing that I needed help from EMDR with was the insomnia I felt. I'm sorry, you couldn't sleep? I couldn't sleep. There was a time, when you might have been my neighbor, where I was up for three nights without a wink of sleep—not a second. The terror causing that was due to my hormones—anxiety or hormones? Yeah, it was my hormones. It was like the drop in progesterone and stress, and it was a month after giving birth, so the hormones were rocked in my body, and my body was trying to rebalance itself. Mine had a particularly hard time.
I wish I had listened to my friend Gabby Bernstein, who has been on your podcast and is a dear friend. I honestly think she helped to save my life because she told me, "Rachel, enough with the Reiki, meditation, praying—go get some effing medication." Go get on Azo to help you sleep, knock yourself out, get on an SSRI, and get some real support. I was terrified of medication—terrified. I've heard this story so many times now online from other women like me. We think, "Oh, we have to be perfect," or we can use all these incredible tools, like going to an intuitive, and they'll help us. However, that’s where I think it can be a little dangerous.
I can Reiki it away; I can pray it away. I mean, I got certified in Reiki, and I have nothing against it, but that doesn’t help when your hormones are going crazy, and you aren’t sleeping and are having panic attacks. It can also be dangerous in the stream of, "Okay, now I'm just going to do microdosing all day." If you're okay and using those as tools to open up and heal, that’s beautiful. But if you're really having suicidal ideation—which I wasn't—but if you're in a really dark spot, it's dangerous to rely on something that isn’t medically supervised.
Gabby encouraged me, saying, "Rachel, please go have—here's my psychiatrist, call her, get some medication, call your OBGYN, and get back on track." What I did with my therapist was realize that it took a long time to allow myself to fail—and I'm putting quotations around it for people listening. I saw that as a failure; I thought I wasn’t good enough for taking medication. I wasn’t strong enough. I’m the fight song girl; I should be able to will myself out of this depression like I did last time. But I finally relented, and it really helped that my dad was trained as an industrial organizational psychologist and a clinical psychiatrist before that. My mom's a therapist, and my sister has been on an SSRI. I had a ton of friends around me saying, "Rachel, you're going to be okay. You're not failing; this isn't bad."
I was terrified of breastfeeding with it and going into my baby; I was so afraid of all of it. But ultimately, I made the choice, and it saved my life. It allowed me to sleep—allowed me to calm down. I slept like a baby that first night after months of not sleeping. However, I woke up to my husband having a kidney stone. I was like, "I slept!" My nanny came in and said, "Okay, Kevin's in the hospital." It was a tough situation. I’m really proud of myself for not swearing; I just want to say that.
My therapist put it like this: "This medication is going to be the scaffolding so that we can start actually building the building." Without the scaffolding in place, it doesn’t matter how much work we’re doing; nothing is going to get built. So, you need this structure so that the work we’re doing is actually effective. She was right because I have worked incredibly hard—five years of amazing therapy with the most incredible therapist. I’ve worked so hard with her, but without the support of those medications, I don’t think it would have been effective. It would have been a drop in the bucket. What do you think was causing you the most?
Self-love isn't just a nice idea; it's the foundation for everything else. When you learn to nurture yourself, you create the strength to handle life's chaos.
My therapist put it like this: this medication is going to be the scaffolding so that we can start actually building the building. Without the scaffolding in place, it doesn't matter how much work we're doing; nothing is going to be, you know, started to get built. Yes, you need this structure so that the work we're doing is actually effective. She was right because I have worked incredibly hard—five years of amazing therapy with the most incredible therapist. I've worked so hard with her, but without the support of those medications, I don't think it would have been anything more than a drop in the bucket.
When I reflect on what was causing me the most overwhelm in terms of emotions or thoughts, I asked myself what was underneath it all. I found out that the Primal Fear for me is that I was alone; ultimately, I felt I wasn't loved by God and that I was all alone in this world. This fear was present during the whole time of stress, anxiety, and depression. I think what was underneath all of it was the feeling of being alone in this world. However, I have since learned how untrue that is and how deeply loved I am, how connected to God I am. But at the time, that was what I was always most afraid of.
You might wonder why that fear was in my subconscious or in my body consistently, especially since I have a family and my parents are here. I wrote songs about this—millions of people have shared similar feelings. It's ironic how empty that can feel, but it is the most amazing thing to learn. No matter how many people are around you, or how much love you receive, it's never going to be enough if you're not finding it within yourself. I never really learned to find it within; I was kind of like a hungry ghost, as Tara Brach says. I was just grabbing for more and more, and I had two beautiful daughters who were healthy, a husband who loved me, and a family around me. Yet, none of it was going to be enough if I hadn't filled the well myself.
When I think about why I wasn't giving that love to myself, I realize I simply hadn’t learned how. So, how did I learn? This morning, for example, I felt overwhelmed. My record is coming out in two and a half weeks, my daughter just started kindergarten, and my three-year-old has decided she doesn't want to sleep anymore. It’s crazy! I have bills to pay, and my husband is the president of our label. We are in it together, trying to keep everything organized.
This morning, after taking Violet to kindergarten, she cried and clung to me, not wanting to go. My three-year-old also cried, not wanting me to leave the house. I had a rehearsal, a show, a voice lesson, and now this interview—everything felt stacked up. I was overwhelmed. In the car, after the gym, I felt completely depleted and exhausted. I thought, What am I going to do? How am I going to balance all of this?
In that moment, I remembered to put a hand on my heart. I have so many tools now, and I asked myself, "What do you need, like a mom to her daughter? What do you need, my love?" I listened and heard that I needed to cry. I held myself, let myself cry, and I mothered myself. I loved myself and said, "You don’t have to be perfect; just show up. God’s going to do the rest today. You just show up today, baby."
Sometimes, the greatest triumph isn't in the accolades or sales, but in the healing and joy found in the process. Embrace where you are, and let go of the pressure to be perfect. Just show up.
I recently experienced a moment of overwhelming emotion while sitting in my car after the gym. I felt completely depleted and exhausted, questioning how I would balance everything I had to do that day, including shows and interviews. In that moment, I placed a hand on my heart and reminded myself that I have many tools at my disposal. I asked myself, "Raie, what do you need? Like a mom to her daughter, what do you need, my love, right now?" I listened and realized I needed to cry. I held myself and allowed the tears to flow, embracing the act of mothering myself.
Wow, I mothered myself. I loved myself and gently reminded myself, "You don’t have to be perfect; just show up. God’s going to do the rest today. You just show up today, baby—one interview at a time, one thing at a time, one breath at a time. It’s going to be okay. I love you. You’re allowed to fail. You’re allowed to not be perfect. Who cares?" This perspective allowed me to approach the day with joy, hope, and a sense of support. I learned to take things a little less seriously.
The tools I’m using involve checking in with myself and reparenting myself. It can feel like so much is on the line; I’ve spent years building this record, and with its release, there’s a fear that it has to do well, or else I’ll feel like a failure. I reflect on the investment of time and money, and the opinions of others can weigh heavily. I’ve also grappled with the fear of never returning to where I was in the past. However, I’ve come to realize that who cares? I don’t need to recreate my past successes. Instead, I choose to enjoy the work I’m doing now and feel proud of it, regardless of where it goes.
I wrote a statement for my press release that made me emotional. I said, "This album is already a triumph because it saved my life." Anything else that comes from it is just gravy. This perspective is refreshing. I remember when my first book came out in 2015; I was incredibly stressed about launching my first big project. I desperately wanted to be a New York Times bestseller, and when I achieved that, it felt good, but it didn’t solve all my problems. It didn’t bring in millions of dollars or change my life dramatically.
When I launched another book two years later, I felt the pressure to hit the New York Times list again. When it didn’t happen, I was angry for weeks and couldn’t enjoy the process. Ironically, that book ended up being my most meaningful work, focusing on how men can heal and remove their masks. Despite not being a bestseller, I received countless emails from men who said it helped them. Even if it impacted just one person, it was worth it.
On my last book, I felt a similar sense of accomplishment. I completed the book, and I recognized that it’s already a success. Even if it doesn’t sell well, it helped me process my thoughts and emotions. It was therapeutic, and if it can help even one person, that’s a blessing. I’m learning to let go of the need for a specific outcome; it isn’t up to me.
While it’s challenging, I’ve been doing this for 20 years, and I can genuinely say I stand behind what I’m saying. It took a lot of work to reach this point. Just two months ago, I went through a phase where I felt angry and wanted more from life. However, I’ve mostly been in a state of surrender and peace, excited about my projects. It’s easy to love life after experiencing darkness, and I try not to take anything for granted, even though I occasionally forget. I had a moment this summer where I wanted something more, but I’m learning to appreciate the journey.
True freedom comes from surrendering to the journey, not chasing external validation.
I can really say that I mean it. You know, I can stand behind what I'm saying. It took a lot of work, and even this summer, I was thrashing and angry at God. I wanted more; I wanted more. I had to work through it again this summer, just like two months ago. I mean, I have been so surrendered and so at peace, and for the most part, so excited about this project. Basically, every day, I'm excited to wake up because I'm not waking up with anxiety or pain. It's so easy to love life when you've been in such a dark place, and I don't take anything for granted—or at least I try not to. I mean, I forget sometimes, but yeah, I had a moment; I had a week or two this summer where I wanted something else. I wanted something more, and I wanted some festivals or whatever it was that my ego at the moment wanted to feel important.
I had to work through it all over again, but it was a quicker process this time. It was kind of like, you know, when you're learning a lesson and you feel like you've learned it, but then there's one final test. That was it—surrender. After crying for a week and being mad at God, I fully surrendered. I think we don't learn the lesson until we learn to create a boundary around the things that we're really trying to create. It's like until you're able to create a boundary with that relationship you have with needing more, you can't truly move forward. Yes, when you create that boundary and say, "Actually, I'm fine with whatever happens," you can show up fully as yourself. You can do your best, and that doesn't mean you're going to try any less hard. I'm surrendered, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to hope for it.
Now my attitude is, "Wouldn't it be nice if it was on the charts again? Wouldn't it be nice? How fun would that be? What a delight!" But I don't need it. Also, you know what helped me do that? My husband is running our label, and he has shown me the breakdown of being an indie artist versus a major label artist. I literally don't need it to be a major thing to support my family as an indie artist. As an indie artist, I have more control—I own my masters, I own most of the publishing, and I am the primary writer on most of the songs. I produced it myself with my two best friends who are Grammy winners. It's not just a bunch of friends; they're incredible.
The financials are looking good, and now I'm lucky because I already have a fan base. It's hard because I'll say this: you don't need to be on a label, but if you've had a hit, it makes it a bit easier. So, I have a fan base, but the thing is, I don't actually need my beautiful body of work to be anything other than what it is. It can go into the world; it already has supported us from the four songs I've released. Wow, the streaming that it's doing has already brought in revenue. It's crazy what artists are convinced they need from major labels because the tiny little percentage that you earn from your masters is nothing. You need it to be a gigantic hit in order to see money.
I've learned my lesson. For example, I think "Fight Song" has almost a billion streams on Spotify. Just on Spotify alone, I think across everything, it has like two billion. Wow, it's amazing! YouTube, Apple, and everywhere else—it’s incredible. But if a label owns that, I've never really bragged about that. Three billion streams across everything—that's amazing! But if a label owns that, you get a much smaller piece than if you own it. It would be like 10, 20, or even 50 times more.
If I owned the master of "Fight Song," we wouldn't be in the same neighborhood. I mean, this is a lovely place, but no. However, I am going to get to re-record it because the master reverts to me, and I'm going to re-record it like Taylor did with her versions. I'm going to do my versions, but how does that work? Does that actually work? When she re-recorded, I mean, she's Taylor, so she has the whole entire world listening. I don't know if people will choose my version to stream, but it will be the 10th anniversary. I think there will be some movement and attention around it, like "Wildfire" will turn 10. That's the record that had "Stand By You," "Better Place," and "Fight Song." So, I'm going to do four or five of them reimagined in the sound and sonics of this new record, which is quite a departure from the early stuff.
Letting go of the need to control every thought can lead to a deeper sense of peace and connection. Embrace the chaos, acknowledge your fears, and co-create your life with faith.
I am planning to re-record it because the master reverts to me, and I'm going to re-record it like Taylor did her versions. I'm going to do my versions, but how does that work? Does that actually work? When she re-recorded, I mean, she's Taylor, so she has the whole entire world listening. I don't know if people will choose my Rachel's version to stream, but it will be the 10th anniversary, and I think there will be some movement and attention around it. For example, "Wildfire" will turn 10; that's the record that had "Stand By You," "Better Place," and "Fight Song." So, I'm going to do like four or five of them reimagined in the sound and the sonics of this new record, which is quite a departure from the early stuff.
I don’t know anything about this world, but when she re-recorded it, it was like a year or two ago, right? Is that something she's been in the process of for the last four years? How is that done? Does she go into the studio and just recreate it? I mean, has she launched some songs already? Yes, she has launched some of them, and she’s making money off them. It’s really amazing! People aren’t listening to the original; they’re listening to the new version. I don’t think it matters with her audience because it’s so massive that people are just listening to everything she puts out. It was the smartest thing to do.
Your album is amazing! I remember going to your first show. I was in your back house as you were finishing songs about three years ago. You shared some stuff with me a year and a half or two years ago, and you played "Mercy" for me. It was incredible! You mentioned that you were still editing it, but it was amazing to hear it live as you were finishing it. Then, watching you at the Tractor about six months ago, sharing those songs with the public for the first time was a great experience.
You have one song called "Bad Thoughts," and I know you're big on visualization and manifesting. You used to be really into it, but not anymore? I feel a little bit more like I’m not so in control as I thought I was, and it’s kind of a good feeling. I feel a little bit more peace and a little bit more faith, and I feel deeply connected to God, like we’re co-creating together. It’s not so much up to me to think the right way or visualize the right thing. The danger with that is if you’ve gone through a mental health battle, you know that you are not in control of your thoughts. If you believe that you are for the good, then you have to believe that you are when you’re thinking something that is very scary and terrifying. I had to give up that belief and let myself off the hook.
If you have bad thoughts consistently, do you feel like you can create a meaningful life and have your dreams come true? I think our job is to be honest with what we’re thinking. I don’t think we should let it ever run away with us; we have to make sure that the self is in there. Have you done any IFS work? Yes, I love that stuff! I had Frank on, who is like the expert in that area. You have to make sure that the self is in there because the version of you that is feeling all that fear, anxiety, devastation, and rage is only just a part of you. It’s not the real you. The centered you, the one that is one with God and everything, is the true self.
You’re not going to give the fear the wheel of the bus, but I also think that denying it, shutting it out, and being scared of it is the wrong approach. At least, that was the case for me. Denying what actually is can be harmful. In my deep struggle, when every day was filled with negative, scary thoughts, panic, and dissociation, there was nothing I could do. There was no amount of manifesting that could force those thoughts away. At some point, I had to confront that reality.
Embrace every part of yourself, even the fears and anxieties, because true change starts with radical acceptance of what is.
The self is in there because the person usually experiences a version of themselves that feels all that fear and anxiety and devastation and rage. However, this is only a part of you; it is not the real you. The centered you is one with God and one with everything.
In my experience, you're not going to give it the wheel of the bus, but I also think that denying it, cutting it out, and being scared of it is the wrong approach. At least, it was for me. Denying what actually is only added to my struggle. During my deep struggle, when every day was filled with negative scary thoughts, panic, and dissociation, there was nothing I could do. No amount of manifesting could force those thoughts away. At some point, I had to just say, "This is what's here. I love you, Rachel. I love you, and I accept you. I'm here anyway; I love you anyway."
Now, I truly believe that I don’t want to look at anyone and say, "Get rid of those thoughts." Instead, I want to hold them, hug them, and teach them through my songs and my own life how to love themselves. I want to say, "I love all of me. I love the scary thoughts that are here. I love the bad thoughts. I love the fear. I love the anxiety because I'm human, and it all is what's here." It just is already here.
What are we going to do? Push it away? To love and actually change something has to start with radical acceptance of what is. Real change only happens once you say yes to what is actually here. That's why I think manifesting can be a little tricky, at least the way I was doing it and how I see people discussing it online. I’m more like, "Hey, yes, yes, but first meet what's here. First, let it all come up and love it."
Once you do that, and it's not a terrified little screaming child inside of you demanding your attention, trying to grab the wheel, you can bring the capital S self back—the God self—into the picture. You can say, "Hi, my love, I'm here. I see you're afraid, and you can be on this bus with me, but you can't drive because you're five," or ten, or fifteen, or whatever age they were.
If your anxiety or bad thoughts are running your life, it’s got to be hard to create something fulfilling. If you create something from a place of lack or anxiety, it’s not going to feel enough. You’re going to need more, more, more, as opposed to accepting where you’re at.
I guess that’s what my question was around that. How do we navigate this? We grew up in the early '80s, and for me, it was about not talking about feelings at all. It was like, "Don't cry. Don't talk about feelings. Just do your job." Essentially, it was about not acting like a child—shut it down.
Now, being in LA, I see a more extreme side where if a child is having a breakdown, it’s like, "Okay, let’s talk for 90 minutes about your feelings every single day." Parents are being told to address feelings constantly. It’s really confusing. Gentle parenting has been totally misunderstood. Boundaries are essential.
I feel like there’s another extreme that has emerged since we grew up—too permissive, allowing children to feel and scream all day, running around without boundaries or structure. I don’t think that’s the answer either. I feel like either side has its problems in developing young children into having some type of anxiety, stress, or problematic symptoms as teens and adults, whether it be entitlement or lack of drive.
So, how can we address that in this time and age? We have adults who haven’t learned the tools on how to love, self-soothe, and self-parent. At the same time, we are raising children without needing them to like us because there are going to be many times when they won’t like us. We can’t just give in to them constantly for their approval.
How do you learn? Come back to me when you're a dad! I’m kidding; I love this conversation, but I have to tell you...
Parenting is a journey of learning and unlearning, where setting firm boundaries with love is key to raising resilient kids.
Problems of developing young children into having some type of anxiety, stress, or problematic symptoms as teens and adults are significant. This can manifest in various ways, such as entitlement or lack of drive. The question arises: how can we address these issues in this time and age when certain adults haven't learned the tools on how to love, self-soothe, and self-parent?
Additionally, it is crucial to raise children without needing them to like you, as there will be many times when they do not. Constantly giving in to them for the sake of approval is not a solution. How do we navigate this complex parenting landscape?
As a parent myself, I can tell you that you can have all the ideas about what you think people should be doing and how they should be parenting until you are actually met with a tantrum in public from your own child. I had all the judgments about how I was going to do things, but one child turned into two, and it is a show. Honestly, I have no idea how to navigate it; I am still learning. My oldest is only five, and I am still figuring out what kind of mom I am.
My parents were permissive and then scary authoritative—cheering me on one moment and then terrifying me with loud noises and door slamming the next. As a result, I am really anti-yelling and screaming in my house. However, I have had to learn, with the help of my therapist and in couples therapy, how to set firm boundaries with my children. They cannot be jerks; they cannot be entitled. I will not raise those children.
Moreover, my children are being raised very differently than I was, with so much privilege and beauty. My upbringing was starkly different; we didn’t have money, and it was not like I could have anything I wanted at any moment. My husband and I are figuring this out in real-time. I have to find my way of establishing firm boundaries because my approach is not yelling, while my husband’s is. He doesn’t yell all the time, but when he is really pushed, he will scream at the girls, and they look at him like, "What the hell is going on?" It is terrifying for them, and I have a significant problem with that.
I prefer a more gentle parenting style, but with gentle parenting, you must have firm boundaries. You have to stick to them and do what you say you’re going to do. If there is any lack in this area, you will raise an entitled child. I have learned that the way I parent myself is reflected in how I parent my children. Their feelings are valid; they are allowed to express them but not in a way that hurts someone else or gets in the way of their lives. They will be heard and supported because that is part of being human.
I don’t want my daughters to think they aren’t allowed to cry or have tantrums, but they can do it in their room or a safe place. They cannot hurt each other or themselves. I am still figuring it out, and I don’t have all the answers. It is incredibly challenging to be a mom, and I am learning as I go.
For moms or women who want to be mothers but also want to pursue their careers or dreams, such as art or music, I would say that balancing these roles is one of the hardest things. Before becoming a mom, I thought that having children would steal my creativity, that it would suffer. However, what I have learned is that it could not be further from the truth. My creativity has expanded immensely. After all, think of the act of creating a child; it is the most profound act of creation.
Becoming a mom can amplify your creativity instead of stifling it; the experience of creating life fuels your artistic expression in ways you never imagined.
Becoming a mom while also being the breadwinner and working full-time as an artist or in any career is undoubtedly one of the hardest challenges. Having one child and managing the responsibilities of being a full-time mom, while also finding the energy and mental capacity to create, is a significant struggle. Before I became a mom, I believed that having children would steal my creativity and that my artistic expression would suffer. However, I have learned that this could not be further from the truth; in fact, it is the opposite. My creativity has expanded so much since becoming a mother.
Think about the act of creating a child; it is the most creative thing you will ever do in your life. You are literally creating a human, which connects you deeply to the Divine, to Creation, and to Magic. Once you create a human, you realize that you can create anything. For me, my songs flow effortlessly, as if God has turned on a faucet that never gets shut off. Creating has become so much easier and more natural. The range of emotions I experience from becoming a mom is so much more wide and wild, providing me with a wealth of life experiences to draw from. I can harness and transmute feelings of terror, grief, and rage into beautiful art that somehow sounds joyful, even when it addresses pain.
However, the challenge remains: how do you find the energy and capacity to create? You might have ideas that flow when you have energy and time, but as a full-time mom, even when your kids are in school or you have daycare or nanny support, you are still thinking about your children all day long. Your body is still responding to the healing process after the first few years of motherhood. You need energy, especially when you are up all night because your child has wet the bed or needs to sleep with you, kicking you all night. It’s beautiful but also challenging.
To support myself, my husband has started working for me and is now my partner. This change has been a gigantic relief, as he brings in more income and helps transform my business. It’s not all on me anymore, which is amazing for women who want to make money while also being mothers.
I have two thoughts on productivity during this busy time in my life. First, think about the busiest time in your life: how productive were you when you only had 30 minutes to be productive? You were likely very productive compared to when you had all day with nothing going on. However, there is a limit, and at some point, you will crash. I experienced this crash just this morning. Taylor Swift taught me an important lesson during a hectic time when my song was exploding. She said, "You aren't going to have days off; you are going to have moments off."
Right now, my calendar is insane; I cannot look at it for the next three months because it is packed every day. But I recognize that this is just a season of life. My husband and I are all in, and we have support from everyone around us. My team is saying yes to everything, and I understand that this is just where I am at right now. I have been doing this long enough to know that this isn’t forever. There will be lulls, and I will have the opportunity to be around my babies all day long, which will be delicious.
The second thought I have is that my spiritual practice has been absolutely essential in keeping my energy up. Before, I didn’t have this tool or a deep connection to God. Now, I literally give it to God. I say, "You do it." Before a show or something I’m scared of, I write a list of what I’m afraid of. This practice has become a vital part of my routine, helping me manage the demands of motherhood and my creative career.
Let go of the pressure to perform and just show up; your job is to be a clear vessel for the magic to flow through.
Forever this is right now. I also have incredible moments off, and days off, and weeks off because of the career I chose. Thus, there will be a lull, and I will get to be around my babies all day long, and it will be delicious.
Okay, that's my one thought. Then, the other thought I have is that my spiritual practice has been absolutely essential in keeping my energy up. I didn't have this tool before; I didn't have this deep connection to God before. Now that I do, I literally give it to God. I literally say, "You do it." I want to show you what I write. I want to show you what I do. I make a check mark for God.
Before a show, I do it; before something I'm scared of, before a day, before an intense performance, I literally write a list of what I'm scared of. I made this up; I don't know if this is like something people are going to listen to and be like, "What the hell is she talking about?" But I want you to imagine three columns.
In the first column, I write down all my fears and all my worries and all my stress. In the second column, I write down my job. I write, like, "What do you mean?" Okay, I'll tell you. I'll give you an example. Let's say I was doing one about the Lewis podcast. I'm nervous; I love Lewis. This podcast is huge. I want to do a good job. I want people to go listen to my music. I want to be successful.
What is my job? My job, what God tells me my job is, is to breathe, be in the moment, give it to Him, and have fun. That's it; that's my job. Then, I write the third column: what's God's job. On God's column is everything—make it go so well, make me adorable, hilarious, funny, charming. You do it! Make it the most successful; make Lewis love it. Whatever God has all this to do, then I make a checkbox for Him.
I crack up and write on it, "Go God, go! Yay God! Don't worry, you can do it, God!" I cheer Him on. It's like ridiculous; it's so ridiculous. Then I crack up because I look at my job versus God's job, and I'm like, "Oh bro, you have a lot of work to do. I'm going to go chill, but good luck to you." Then I come back and remember to check Him off, and I give Him pluses. I'm like, "Very good job," and I give Him stickers. He has not failed me ever. Wow, and that's what I do for energy.
What do you think is the difference between putting all the weight and pressure on you to do a good job and perform versus allowing God in your life to deliver? I don't have to do anything; I have to show up. I have to be the clearest vessel that I can be. God is the flowers; my job is literally just to be the clearest vessel for people to see them. That's hard work; it takes hard work to be a clear vessel.
But I can do that; I can shine and shimmer. I can't guarantee people will love me; I can't be delightful and perfect and pleasing, right? But I can do my work to be a clear vessel. I can meditate, I can do my breath work, I can have therapy, I can work out, I can keep my body healthy, and I can keep my mind healthy. That's my job in being a clear vessel.
The pressure is off. Other than that, my job is not about what people are going to think of me. My job is not about how I am going to come off, what the success is going to be, or what the result is going to be. It is literally just to be the best version I can.
When did you start this practice of giving it up to God? In the middle of the darkest depression, when I had no other choice—a couple of years ago. When I was completely at a loss, on my knees in the studio that you came to a couple of times, on my knees in the middle of the night at 2 a.m. My baby had a 105-degree temperature that night; she was 2 months old. My husband was passing a kidney stone. I wasn't sleeping; I was absolutely at the lowest. My uncle just died; I was at the lowest I've ever been in my life. I was terrified; I didn't know how to keep going.
I screamed on the floor of my studio, "Mercy! Mercy! I'm done! Mercy!" And this song came out of me—this song Mercy came out of me at 2 in the morning, like all at once, this rush, this answer of music. I felt a presence that I had never felt in my life. I've always written with something, but I didn't know what it was that was flowing through me. That night, I knew without a doubt that that beautiful piece of art came through that pain. There had to be something bigger than me in this world that was listening.
From then, I was so hungry for it. Wow! I sought it out, and I asked, and I searched, and I implored God, "Keep showing yourself to me, please! Keep delighting me, keep helping me, keep healing me." And He did, over and over. Music came, music came, music came—like so much music. Did you have a relationship with God before?
True connection with God often comes through our deepest pain, transforming it into something beautiful and meaningful.
In this journey of self-discovery and creativity, I experienced a profound moment during a night of music. I felt a presence that I never felt in my life, and although I had always written with something, I didn’t know what it was that was flowing through me. That night, I knew without a doubt that that beautiful piece of art came through that pain. There had to be something bigger than me in this world that was listening. From that moment on, I became incredibly hungry for this connection. I sought it out, asking and searching, and I implored God, saying, “Please keep showing yourself to me. Please keep delighting me, keep helping me, keep healing me.” And He did, over and over again. Music came, music came, music came—so much music.
Before this experience, I think I had a relationship with God, but I didn’t truly know Him. I didn’t understand that He was actually listening to me and that He was right there in my heart. I believed I needed an intermediary to connect with God. In the world I was entrenched in, especially in LA, I thought I had to go through someone else. I would visit medical intuitives, psychics, or Reiki practitioners, hoping they could connect me to my Creator. I was so desperate for that connection that I would go all the time, asking others to pray for me because I was filled with fear. This fear made me feel alone, as if no one would be there to hear me when I reached out.
When asked if I feel loved by God and if I feel a connection, I can say that I do. However, I didn’t always feel this way. Growing up, I felt very insecure and alone. I remember going to the principal's office in elementary school and repeatedly saying, “I wish I were dead.” I felt like no one cared, even though my parents and siblings were there for me. It didn’t matter how much love was around me; I didn’t know how to receive it. It wasn’t until about 10 or 11 years ago, when I started my healing journey, that I began to feel a deeper sense of love—for myself and for God.
Thank you for sharing that. I understand how challenging it can be. Everything for me was driven by a desire to succeed, to feel loved and accepted. Yet, it never felt like enough. I kept thinking, “Let me go get more,” and I continued to accomplish things. However, about ten years ago, I decided that I wanted to create my life based on a vision to serve people. If I had a dream to write a book or pursue other goals, it needed to be in the service of others. Service is fundamental now in anything I do.
We are so similar in our journeys. Both of us have been very driven people, achieving a lot and going through the school of greatness. However, we discovered that there is an emptiness in those achievements unless they are for a greater purpose. When I was on my knees, crying out for mercy at 2 AM in the back of my house, I did feel a connection to God. It was a powerful moment that shifted me significantly.
For me, God talks to me through songs and songwriting. One of my favorite songs came out of me during this time. I wrote it in just 20 minutes, which made it clear that it wasn’t just me writing it. It felt as if I was chasing the song, urging it to slow down because the words were flowing so quickly that my hands couldn’t keep up. I kept saying out loud, “Please slow down.”
Art often emerges from our deepest pain, transforming suffering into something beautiful and profound.
The experience of creating music can be profoundly emotional and transformative. I remember crying while thinking about it because it was so powerful and it shifted me so much. For me, God talks to me through songs and songwriting. One particular song that came out of me is one of my favorite songs I've ever written. The fact that I wrote it in just 20 minutes made it very obvious that it wasn't me writing it; it felt like it came through me quickly. I was almost chasing it, urging it to slow down, as the words were flowing rapidly. I kept saying out loud, slow down, slow down, because my hands couldn't write fast enough. It felt like a musical orgasm, a wild experience that emerged from a place of deep pain and suffering, creating a sense of freedom.
After writing the song, I woke my husband up, shaking him and urging him to come downstairs. He had just returned from the hospital and was exhausted, expressing his concern that if he didn't like the song, I would be devastated. I reassured him, saying, no, no, Kevin, it's good. I played it for him with tears in my eyes. I didn't record it initially, but I captured the original version, which includes me crying through it. You can hear my voice as I express my excitement, saying, oh, that's good, and then throwing the pen down in disbelief. When I finally sang it for him, his jaw dropped in astonishment. I felt a surge of realization, thinking, I think God's using me, and that there was a reason for my suffering at that moment.
Reflecting on the relationship between suffering and creativity, I used to argue that suffering wasn't necessary for great art. However, I now believe that to reach the depths of things that resonate with others, I often have to endure pain. It's a form of transmutation or alchemy for me. I alchemize my deep pain into art, and I've come to accept this process. While I do have joyful and silly songs, the ones that seem to move people the most often stem from my struggles. I'm not the artist people turn to for party songs; they come to me to feel.
Since that transformative experience, my relationship with God has evolved significantly. Now, two years later, it feels really intimate and great. I love Him and feel a direct channel to God, realizing that I don't need to go to anyone else for answers. The idea of seeking guidance from someone else seems wild to me now. I write every day, engaging in dear love letters, a practice inspired by Elizabeth Gilbert. Initially, I hesitated to participate, but after seeing her newsletter, I decided to embrace the opportunity.
When you finally surrender in your darkest moments, you unlock a direct connection to the divine that transforms everything.
Over the past two years, my relationship with God has transformed significantly. It's really intimate and great; I love him. I feel like I have a direct channel to God now, and I would never think to go to someone else for answers. The idea of seeking answers from others seems wild to me now; it simply doesn't make sense.
I write every day these "dear love letters" that Elizabeth Gilbert encourages. Initially, I was annoyed with myself for turning it down, but I quickly changed my mind and said, "Yes, I'll do it immediately." After seeing the powerful newsletter she sent out featuring others' letters, I felt inspired. Elizabeth calls it "love," which might be a more palatable term for everyone listening. For me, it represents Universal love or God. I understand that the word "God" can trigger some people, but when I use it, I refer to the Creator, the Divine, that force of love in the world.
Every week, we write, "Dear love, what would you have me know today?" Initially, I thought I wouldn't receive any answers, but oh my God, the responses literally pour out of me. These letters come from ordinary men and women who are simply living their lives, not necessarily spiritual or holy people. They are just like us, hungry for answers. When they put their requests out there, they are met with a flood of love and answers and support.
There is now a community on her Substack with over 100,000 people sharing these letters daily, and it is unbelievably beautiful. I believe it is the most beautiful place on the internet. Given this experience, it seems wild to me to seek answers from anyone else when I have this direct line to God. For 40 years, I didn’t have that connection.
It's almost like saying, "I need to go to my sibling to ask what my father thinks about me," instead of going directly to my dad. Seeking answers through someone else can filter the truth through their own human experience. I believe this is the problem with intuitives and psychics; while they may provide something true, it is still filtered through their own human body, feelings, and thoughts.
To unlock this connection with God directly, I needed to go through my own hero's journey. I found myself on my knees, suffering, at my limit, crying out for mercy, saying, "I surrender anything, come and help me." I am stubborn, so perhaps someone else might have an easier time reaching that point. The unlock came when I decided to trust and listen directly. I let go of my fear and began to practice.
Initially, I was afraid that no one would answer me, that I would be alone in this journey. However, that fear was unfounded. In those moments of deep pain, I felt a shift. I was in so much pain that I thought, "I don't care if I'm alone; I'm just going to listen anyway."
When I was crying out for mercy, I wasn't thinking at all; I was overwhelmed by pain. My plan was simply to throw my forehead against the floor. I wasn't in my head anymore; I was in my heart. My heart was broken, shattered, and obliterated. All I felt was pain, fear, and grief.
The pain I experienced was a mix of terror that permeated every part of my being. I couldn't pinpoint whether it was physical, spiritual, or emotional pain; it was everywhere. Now, I can go through meditation and check in with my body, but in that moment, I didn't have those tools. I was simply engulfed in pain.
Embrace your pain; it's the path to your growth and healing. Accept what is, and you'll find the strength to change.
I couldn't bear it anymore. I was in too much pain. It was your heart. Yes, I was broken; my heart was broken. I was shattered, I was obliterated. Rachel was gone, and all that remained was pain. It was all fear, it was all grief, and it was all pain. I couldn't think of anything; I just was in so much pain. I was in so much pain.
Wow. Was it physical pain, spiritual pain, or emotional pain? What was the main pain you were feeling? It was like it's terror. It was everywhere—was it in your head, in your body, in your heart? I don't know; it was everywhere. Now, I can go through a meditation and check in with my body, asking, "Where are you?" But in that moment, I didn't have those tools. I felt so scared, so alone, and so broken. It was just a full-body feeling.
Have you ever been there?
Well, I've been in more of a state of full rage and anger, probably because that was the emotion I knew how to express the best. You know, they’re all the same; they’re all like fear.
I'm curious: if you could, with the wisdom and experience you have now, go back five years and ask your younger self, "Rachel from the future, how do I heal myself?" What advice would you give to her to actually listen and take the actions to heal? I just wrote myself a letter that’s going to be on the copy of my vinyl. This is the first time I'm going to have actual records, physical LPs. That’s cool!
I wrote myself a letter that’s going to be on the inside, and it’s not going to be anywhere else. It starts with, "Dear me, five years ago." I know exactly what I would say: this pain is going to be worse than anything you've ever experienced. But I will not wish you out of it because it is the way. It is the path to get where you want. So, I will be brave, and I will love you. I will tell you, "You're going to be okay. You're going to end up in a beautiful place." I will not wish it away; I know that you're strong enough to handle this. All of it is going to lead you exactly where you want, so I would not give myself tools to escape it or get out of it faster. Everything had to be exactly as it was for me to feel how I feel today.
Do we all have to go through pain and suffering in order to feel peace? Or is there a way we can, premeditatively, not hack it but say, "Ah, my life's not great; I'm at a seven out of ten"? Every year, I keep going at this rate, and it kind of goes down a little bit. I lose a little bit of my soul, my heart. I'm just surviving. When you can catch it and say, "I know some things are off, and I'm just not really connected to my body or my emotions; my relationship's a little bit off," is there a way you can not hack it but say, "I'm going to do the work now"?
Okay, I do have an answer to get to where I want to be, as opposed to waiting five years until I crash and suffer, then wake up.
That's not what I meant, Lou. You mean it’s not about hacking, but can’t we find a way to support ourselves to improve instead of waiting until it gets worse?
No, no, no. I don’t mean that. I don’t want to leave you there, young Rachel, to just go through this alone. Like I said, I had a lot of other things to tell her, like, "I'm going to love you, and I'm going to be there loving you." The sooner that you can learn to love yourself and accept what is, the sooner things are going to start to change.
So, my answer is acceptance. What I would say to anyone is that the sooner you can be with what is and accept what is, the sooner you are about to start to actually change something. You need to radically accept what is before you can change anything.
And you hadn't accepted what was.
No, I was fighting, mad, and angry at God. I was scared and raging against it. My work, over and over, was to say, "Yes, I don’t like this, but yes, I’m here." Yes, I don’t want to be depressed, but yes, I am depressed. If you would have done that five years ago, you might not have hit rock bottom with all this pain.
But like I said, the pain brought my art. The pain brought these experiences.
You could have found it in other ways too.
I don’t know; I kind of love the journey. I don’t know, I kind of love it. I get it.
Radical acceptance is the first step to real change; feel your feelings, let them out, and embrace who you are.
What I would say to anyone is that the sooner you can be with what is and accept what is, the sooner you are about to start to actually change something. You need to radically accept what is before you can change anything. At one point, I had not accepted what was; I was fighting, mad, angry at God, scared, and raging against it. So, my work over and over was to say, “Yes, yes, I don’t like this, but yes, I’m here. Yes, I don’t want to be depressed, yes, I am depressed.”
If I had done that five years ago, maybe I wouldn’t have hit rock bottom with all this pain. But, like I said, the pain brought my art. The pain brought these experiences. You could have brought it in other ways too, but I kind of love the journey. I don’t know; I kind of love it. I get it, but that’s a high, high love. Know my vibe; that’s who I am. I’m a high, high, low, low kind of girl. I’ve always been this way, and it’s something I have to accept about myself.
I’m not like everyone. Some people are like me, while my husband is way more in the middle. This is how I am; I’m a songwriter. I go wildly high and wildly low, and I’m not going to change. The sooner I learned to stop being so frustrated, sometimes I look at God and think, “Are you joking? Why did you make me like this? Were you drunk?” I’m so sensitive; how did you think I’d be okay? But I’m also so strong. I’m such a warrior, and I’m so fierce. Now, I’m like, “Yeah, you did a good job.”
I used to think, “What were you thinking? This is a dumb way to make a human being; this is absurd.” But now I’m like, “This is Rachel. Rachel goes high, and Rachel goes low.” That’s all I know. The only advice I can give is that I need to experience them for my art. Not every artist does, but that’s what I do. I don’t suffer like I used to now that I have this connection with God. That is my answer. I don’t suffer; I will go low, and I will go high, but I don’t suffer anymore.
I don’t stay low for a long time; I don’t suffer. You know what I’m saying? I feel the pain, but I heard Tony Robbins say this one time: he had this moment where he realized he would never suffer again. I feel the same way; I’m never going to suffer again. He gives himself like 20 minutes or whatever to feel it, and he’s more like, “I feel it.” I am now a ninja about feeling my feelings because I know I can’t trap them.
I will go upstairs, punch pillows, and write out in my journal for 20 minutes non-stop. I write everything that I need to say—the worst things I could say, the worst things I could feel, the things I would always suppress, like “I hate my kids”—the things that you would never say out loud. I let it out; I cry, and I hold myself in a healthy container.
It’s a good way to say it; I forgot to think. You don’t do it in front of people; you have to be responsible. I’ll go scream, “I hate you! I want to shoot a bazooka into the world!” It stays true for that moment, but it doesn’t stay true. Nicole Sachs’s work taught me that; my therapist taught me that. I learned it from my own experience, and it has been the most unbelievable thing to learn.
That’s cool; it doesn’t stay true; it just needs to get out. You can let it out, so letting out your emotions is essential. Accept yourself, and then investigate. I mean, it’s Tara Brach’s RAIN practice. You’re familiar with her work, I think? Yeah, I’ve seen her stuff online. The R is for recognize, the A is for allow, the I is for investigate, and the N is for nurture. I think it is the most brilliant acronym I’ve ever encountered. That is life for me: RAIN.
So, you recognize, “Okay, I’m angry right now.” How often do we walk around all day not really knowing how we feel about a thing? We’re just at some dull level of not-okayness. Once that dull level of unease is there, that’s not actually me; that isn’t actually my capital S self; that isn’t God in you. It’s something you’re experiencing; it’s a wave. Now, I’m like, “Okay, let’s see what’s here.”
RAIE: You’re not feeling like yourself, and I recognize it. What are you feeling? I put a hand on my heart; I ask myself. I go to the bathroom if I only have two minutes and quietly ask, “What’s here?” “Okay, fear is here. Why are you afraid?” I feel it, and then the A is to allow. I allow it to move through me, and it moves through me like a wave. I cry a lot; I’m a crier. But some people like to rage; sometimes I scream. I do what I need to do to get it out of my body.
Embrace your feelings, let them flow, and nurture yourself; that's where true healing begins.
There is a dull level of not okayness that can feel like a disease, something that isn't actually me, or my capital S self, or even God in you. It’s just something I'm experiencing, a wave of emotions. So now, I'm like, okay, let's see what's here. I recognize that I'm not feeling like myself. I ask myself, “What are you feeling?” I put a hand on my heart and, even if I only have two minutes, I quietly ask, “What's here?”
Often, I find that fear is present. I acknowledge it and ask myself, “Why are you afraid?” I feel the emotion, and then I move to the next step: allow. I allow the fear to move through me, like a wave. I cry a lot; I'm a crier. Some people might rage or scream, but I do what I need to do to release it from my body. After that, I move to investigate. I get quiet, listen within, and ask, “Where are you?”
Typically, I find the tension in my stomach, back, or head. I then ask that part of me, “What do you need? What do you need to hear? What's going on?” Often, the answer is simple: “Just love me. Just be with me. Let me be here.” This leads to the next step: nurture. I give myself the love and support I need, often channeling someone from my past who loved me truly, like a grandmother, a spiritual teacher, or even Jesus. I embody that energy and give myself the message I need. Honestly, if you talk about a hack, just 20 minutes of that, and I am back. I feel clear, having moved through the emotions without pushing anything down.
It sounds like there’s a lot of internal family systems work in there too, right? Yes, I have it all mixed up, but it’s good. There are so many brilliant people doing amazing work right now, including you. Thank you; I appreciate it.
So, what advice would I give myself five years ago? The sooner you can be with what is—REI—and love yourself just as you are in this moment, the sooner things will start to change. I would also say, “Turn on your tape recorder when you start recording. Don’t think that those things you’re singing aren’t worth anything just because you’re depressed.”
Now, what would my future self say to me five years from now, with all the wisdom and experience I think I’ll have? She would love me and be so proud of me. She would say, “Raie, you’re doing it. This is it.” I often ask her how to get there, and she reassures me, “This is doing. You’re doing it. This is it.” Every time something hard comes up that makes me want to break, stop, or give up, she tells me, “This is not an obstacle in the way; this is the way. I love you, and you’re doing such a good job. Just keep going.”
That’s amazing! I’m really excited for where you’re at, especially considering a year ago, you were not in a good place. I remember the pain you were experiencing in your body. You were having spasms in your back and hip.
Now, I have no more pain. I can do whatever I want. I dance every week, do somersaults with my girls, play soccer, tennis, and ski. A year ago, I couldn’t move; I couldn’t even get up off the floor for a couple of weeks.
I’m glad you’re not in pain anymore. Me too. I’m glad you’re feeling peace.
And the album is out! Once we launch this, the album will be available. My wish for it is that it may be used by God to move into all the corners of the world, wherever people need it. I hope it reaches whoever needs it, bringing healing, love, and peace. It’s my offering to the world, a vehicle out of the dark.
May it reach people who feel unseen. I want it to let people know they’re not alone and to be a comfort. I hope it becomes something you listen to repeatedly to feel God. May it find its home wherever it’s supposed to go.
That’s beautiful. Yes, and if you’re a mom, go listen to the song “Girls” right now. I think it will bring you a lot of joy. If you have a sister or anyone you care about, it’s worth listening to, especially if you’re feeling any type of pain.
True greatness is the ability to love and accept yourself fully, embracing both your light and your shadows.
The intention behind this music is to reach whoever needs it, bringing healing, love, and peace. It serves as a vehicle out of the dark. It was my way out, and now it is my offering to the world. I hope it can be a vehicle for other people who are suffering and who want to feel their feelings. May it reach those who feel unseen, letting them know they are not alone. I hope it provides comfort and becomes something that people listen to repeatedly to feel God. Ultimately, may it find its home wherever it is meant to go.
I encourage everyone to listen to the song "Girls." If you're a mom, I believe it will bring you a lot of joy. If you have a sister or are feeling any type of pain or uncertainty in your life, I recommend listening to "Mercy" right away. For those struggling with bad thoughts, "Psych Attacks" is a must-listen. Overall, I urge you to experience the entire album; it is a beautiful piece of art. I am truly excited for you and grateful that I was able to create something magical and beautiful from a place of extreme pain and suffering.
While I hope you don't have to suffer as much as I did, I acknowledge that pain is a part of life. I will have pain, but I will never feel like I did before. That's a good realization. You can listen to the music on your preferred platform, including Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Music. The album is called "I Am Rachel Platten." You can also visit my website, RachelPlatten.com, where you can order a signed vinyl copy and see the letter I wrote to myself and to all of us. Additionally, you can join my fan community, where many of us are seeking comfort and connection, knowing we are not alone.
As for touring, I will be touring in 2025. You can sign up for my newsletter on RachelPlatten.com to get the latest information and VIP access to tickets. The last time I toured was in 2019, and it has been six years since then. I want to share something important about my tour journey. I spoke with my lean-in circle, which includes Cheryl, Ariana, and Juel, and they encouraged me to share this. I might not be on a tour bus this time because I won't be playing those huge venues like before, but I am proud and excited about this new chapter.
Juel emphasized the importance of sharing my story so that other women and moms know it is okay to make choices for their families. I made the choice to take time off to heal and be with my children, and while there was a sacrifice involved, it was a beautiful decision for me at that time. My best friend, Andy Grammer, toured continuously while I took a break, and sometimes I would question why I wasn't in the same place as him. But I realize now that I made a choice, and that choice was essential for my well-being.
I want to remind other moms that you don’t have to be at the top every year to be successful. I may choose to return to touring, but it’s okay if you don’t. Our society often pressures us to be at the top, but making those essential choices for ourselves and our families is what truly matters. I accept my journey and am proud of it. Here I am, ready to get back out there, even if it means playing in smaller venues.
To support me, please share the music with anyone you think might need love or comfort. I am an indie artist, and every stream, recommendation, and social media post helps. I am grateful for the community we have built, and I invite you to join us online. We have special gatherings every month, and I love getting to know my fans.
As a special offer, I will buy ten signed vinyls and send them out to listeners. To participate, leave a comment on YouTube sharing your biggest takeaway from this conversation, and tag me and Rachel in your Instagram stories. I will select ten people who share this within the first week to receive a signed vinyl. If you don’t get one, you can always purchase one at RachelPlatten.com.
Rachel, I acknowledge you for the journey you've been on. I have seen behind the scenes, and I appreciate you for opening up and sharing your experiences from the past five years. I may never know what it’s like to be a mother of two, experiencing the joy, pain, and sleepless nights while trying to create music. I commend you for feeling it all and making sacrifices to live your dream while being a mother. Your art and music can help not only you but also others.
As we wrap up, I want to ask you one final question. What is your definition of greatness? It’s beautiful to answer this almost ten years later. My answer is that being able to love yourself—truly, deeply, and radically—is greatness. We have both seen that achievement alone is not it; it’s about being of service and loving yourself. I appreciate you, Rachel, and I look forward to our walks together soon after this busy period. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.