What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

What's in the gallery?

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

Sourcing, not forcing

by Havi Brooks | Jan 18, 2025 | my personal practice

Reflecting on an outcropping of stone I saw on a hike, looks like it’s hanging on, what do I know about this?

A breath for these tough times

Sending out extra wishes of Safety & Sanctuary for everyone in the path of the California wildfires, what a scary time we are in, inhaling and exhaling for everything getting peaceful as swiftly as possible.

Announcement / get your copy of Emergency Calming Down Techniques

I’ve been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and it’s been helping.

I am giving away a copy of these (ebook + audio recordings) to anyone who gives any sum of money to the appreciation funds / discretionary fund in the hopes that we can all keep practicing together, for each other and for the collective, and also for ourselves in these scary times. ❤️

Sourcing, not forcing

Breathing breaths of safety & sanctuary, for everyone in the path of fire

Heart-breaths.

Safety and sanctuary. Comfort and compassion. Miracles miracles, courage courage, guidance guidance. Whatever is needed.

A breath for I can’t solve this, I can only be present with what is and try to be brave and hold hope for something better.

I am here, breathing some breaths for California, for the people I love, for the people I don’t know, for the hurt and hurting places, for the world, for myself, for this overwhelming, soul-crushing level of anxiety that feels untenable and unsustainable, and yet here we are.

Thinking about the layers of this, feeling my way through the layers

Maybe layers isn’t the right word, but yes, also: there’s something here about layered anxiety.

For example, my heart aches and worries for my friends and family in southern and central California, and also there is a specific anxious hurting-and-worrying about beloved places that have meaning for me.

There is the anxious hurting-and-worrying about everyone who is in harm’s way. You see suffering and wish for it to be alleviated, you perceive fear and wish for it to be soothed. May it be alleviated and soothed.

And then at a broader level, there’s a more general existential nonstop angst related to how swiftly we are careening into climate collapse while continuing to mostly pretend it’s not happening.

Beyond that, the painful recognition that the people in charge are unable to be of help even when well-meaning, while the absolute worst people imaginable in this country to be dealing with any of this are about to be in charge. Nefarious, self-serving, and incompetent. Great stuff, love this journey for us. I do not love it.

Here we are (YOU ARE HERE)

So yes, there are a lot of layers to the anxiety. A whole passel of reasons, big and small, to pause and breathe and surrender and hope and be.

A breath for miracles, a breath for the easing of pain.

I have definitely been in the morass space this week, in the hurting places, in the existential terror and the long witching hours.

Here we are (YOU ARE HERE), in this human morass of wanting better for the world, and grieving. And it sucks.

It sucks. It really does.

It sucks. I don’t want to pretend that it doesn’t.

And also I wish I had something more hopeful to say. Maybe we will get there.

Also: What is the opposite of a morass?

Not forcing, and: getting there anyway

Anyway, this is what I am thinking about these days:

How are we going to stay brave and stalwart, breathing our way through these very scary times.

Not forcing ourselves into gratitude, not forcing ourselves into courage, but somehow channeling what we need.

And, also, at the same time, what if maybe we end up finding our way there anyway (rooting into gratitude, rooting into courage) in a roundabout way.

Getting closer

There will be some sweetness and tenderness available for us in the hard times. It’s there, and we will figure out how to access it.

Okay. That still feels like not exactly what I am trying to describe, but closer.

Something about resilience but in a new shape, new form…

Here is another question that keeps coming up for me:

How are we going to channel resilience with grace, a Striking Resilient Grace?

How are we going to breathe our way into the grace of resilience, in a way that is not like past ways, but a new way, whatever this particular timeframe is asking of us…?

I don’t know, but here’s to Striking Resilient Grace, here’s to new forms, here’s to finding the utility in the unknown of it all.

As in: yes, this is scary in a new way, and also, I am going to channel something new to meet it.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

I am not in California where the fires are, but in the southwestern United States, where we are being hit with a brutal cold spell that seems to have no end in sight. The past couple weeks have been scary cold, and it just seems to keep getting colder.

Temperatures have been as low as 12 degrees Fahrenheit (-11 Celsius), and are supposed to dip lower than that this week. It’s the desert, we are not in any way prepared for this.

As you probably know if you hang out here, I live in a very small unheated metal box at the edge of the forest. This year I upgraded from one small space heater to three small space heaters, two of which are on remotes, and that’s been awesome, but it’s still not the same as central heating.

Then guess what happened next!

Frozen

Just to make things more exciting, there was a NINE HOUR POWER OUTAGE the other day, when I couldn’t heat my place at all.

And then the pipes froze and I didn’t have running water for two days.

If my anxiety before that was already running wild, I cannot even express how these new situations made it worse. I was not okay. I couldn’t figure out a path from not-okay to somewhat better. Resilience and Grace both felt very out of reach.

The best I could manage was to keep saying, “You’re doing amazing” to myself. Courage, courage. Miracles, miracles. Guidance, guidance. You’re doing amazing, sweetie. Let’s keep going.

I kept going, and it worked out, and I was able to stay the night with a friend, who also came over the next day and helped haul water, what a blessing.

Cold Spells

The phrase COLD SPELL is very funny to me, because it almost sounds like it’s the work of an angry witch? Could be! Who can say!

We are in a spell, we are under a spell, the spell is that everything is cold. It’s a cold spell.

A spell is a period of time, and a spell is something that is cast, in time. This is happening right now, and it will continue to happen, for a spell, and then something else will happen.

To spell something out is to clarify. To be in a spell is to be in the clarifying, the revealing.

That seems contradictory on the surface of it, but what if it isn’t.

Spigots

So this is a fun thing: whenever the temperature goes below 28 degrees Fahrenheit (-2 Celsius), the pipes in my kitchen freeze and I don’t have water in my house.

I have to fill jugs in the late afternoon for everything that happens in a house that might involve water, and then shut off the water to the house in the evening, and just hope it comes back the next day once things warm up.

So this current cold spell has involved a month???? of temperatures that low.

That’s a lot of hauling water in containers from outdoor spigots.

It solved itself (and then it didn’t, but maybe it will again)

This life of constantly haul water from spigots got temporarily solved when someone had the brilliant idea to install chicken coop heat lamps under my house directed at the walls where the pipes are.

This was only a temporary reprieve, for which I am still very grateful.

It bought me eight entire degrees. Blessings upon this solution. Eight degrees of leeway is not nothing. It’s a lot.

Now when the temperature dips below 20 degrees Fahrenheit (-6 Celsius), I am back to spigot life. Which is also happening more often than I would like but at least it’s not every single day, on repeat.

A breath for any reprieve in a storm, a breath for all the miraculous ways that something can solve itself, and might again.

Spigots, again

It is interesting how often I am thinking about spigots.

I did a meditation for the anxiety, trying to separate out what is mine vs what is from the collective, what is from now vs what is from then.

An image appeared for me; I saw or maybe felt and perceived a spigot at the back of my heart. Like a faucet that was just whooshing non-stop anxiety.

I turned the faucet off and the anxiety stopped. I wondered who would have installed an anxiety faucet and for what purpose.

And I asked for a new energy body, a new form, something that doesn’t need to plumb in anxiety, or anything for that matter.

Source

It occurred to me that maybe the original idea behind the anxiety faucet was as a release valve. Like a give it to god, give it to source, return to source mechanism for letting all the excess anxiety exit my body.

And at some point, it got reversed and the anxiety began flooding inward?

I don’t know if that makes any sense. It made sense in my body-mind in the moment.

I like thinking about how [source] can be the source of my anxiety, but source can also be SOURCE, as in holy holiness, a well-spring of any quality I need to channel.

What if I can be a source of sourcing, of resourcefulness, sourcing a flow of grounded calm, sourcing a flow of steady courage? Breathing into my courage heart.

Breathing into my courage heart

I imagined that, without the anxiety spigot, my heart space was filling up on courage, glowing courage, a beacon of courage. A place to love myself and love my own heart.

Imagining the word COURAGE writing itself with my breath, its essence moving through me.

Imagining COURAGE integrating into the rest of me, spinal fluid infused with courage, circulating courage throughout my body.

Located

The day after I perceived the spigot of anxiety at the back of my heart-space, and asked for it to be removed, my back went out. I couldn’t sleep because the pain was so intense and there was no non-painful position.

The pain started at my right shoulder and ran all the way to my hip, but the center of the pain was located in my mid-upper back, at that back of heart-space where the spigot had been.

The next morning, it had eased up a bit, and I tried to do a little light gentle jogging to warm up the joints and activate core, but it was excruciating. I made some sounds that I hope to never make again.

An hour of very gentle yoga helped more than I expected to but not as much as I needed it to (the familiar, ongoing theme of everything in the category of Things That Help).

Location location location

I sent a hail mary text to the chiropractor I know who has done magic on me in situations like this, but was booked for several weeks out, and luckily a last-minute cancellation opened up a spot for me the next day.

“Oh nooooo, oh Havi, oh nooooooooooo,” he kept saying every time he lightly touched my back or neck, and then hugged me out of the pain, and did some massage to help with breathing.

I told him about the spigot, and my months of heartbreak-heartache, and the anxiety and my dad, and he said, that all tracks.

Heart and breath and anxiety and it’s all in the same location, but hey, at least I know where to focus my attention. Love for my courageous hurting heart.

Rooted in Gratitude, Rooting into Gratitude

I am not one for forcing gratitude.

In my experience, often just arriving at the general vicinity of gratitude requires a lot of Acknowledgment & Legitimacy practice: sometimes you have to name all the hard things and make space for them to be hard before it’s even possible to find the good.

A practice of rooting into is a practice of getting there, my way

In the evening, I name what was hard or challenging in my day, and when these parts have been named and heard, I am able to be even more brave and get curious about what I am thankful for.

I call this practice RIG (Rooted In Gratitude) because this is very funny to me, and reminds me of sailboats and rigging.

And ultimately RIG is about discovering what might allow me to root into gratitude, steadily, gently and intentionally, instead of trying to make gratitude happen, or to wish myself into becoming someone who just finds the good.

Rooted In, generally

What I mean by this is that it doesn’t have to be about gratitude. It can be Rooted In [anything? many things? whatever helps?], and I am more interested in the practice of rooting into qualities than any particular quality.

Right now it’s gratitude, which I am not forcing but inviting. And whatever supports my heart space.

Stretch Goals (double meaning)

It is probably not a coincidence that I have not had back pain since I was visiting my dad this summer, which happens to be the last time I stopped doing my daily yoga time.

Until this week when I took four days off from yoga for reasons that seemed very reasonable in the moment, aka not enough time in the day to do the things that need doing.

And my back was like, FYI I am now on strike until further notice, also now your heart space hurts in a way that is physical and not just emotional.

So I am thinking about stretch goals in the sense of A Glorious Return to the physical and breath-centered practices that help.

But also in the sense of having a baseline goal or wish, and then something I am reaching towards beyond that.

Like a big cat

Reaching and stretching for it like a bobcat, with length and breath, centered, moving from center.

Intention initiates breath initiates movement. Slow delicious big-cat stretch towards my wish.

Not straining. Not pushing. Just an expansive intentional reaching.

Reach and breathe, reach and rest, reach and nap, pause, shake it off, shake it out. Not bound by rules.

Movement that is fueled by curiosity and desire. Playful grounded expansive movement, plenty of rest.

May it continue to solve itself

Trying to stay attuned to all the many, miraculous, beautiful ways some of these issues have solved themselves or are solving themselves.

Here are the powers I am naming, invoking, requesting, channeling:

IT IS SOLVING ITSELF AND I DO NOT NEED TO KNOW HOW

SOME ASPECT OF THIS SITUATION IS GOOD AND I DO NOT NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS GOOD OR HOW IT IS GOOD

EXTREME SELF-CARE, SELF-TENDING, SELF-TREASURING, SELF-NOURISHING

THIS STORM WILL PASS

Let’s keep going

It is so brave to keep meeting these hard, scary times, and it helps that we are doing it together. Let’s keep going.

Here is what I am trying to keep my focus on:

Sourcing, not forcing.

Not forcing, but getting there anyway.

Please join me, if any of these appeal to you, or add your own focal-point wishes.

What else am I committing to trying?

Doing what helps, when I can, to the extent that I can, and prioritizing these practices, making sure I don’t neglect myself.

Asking for help. Rooting into the qualities that feel indicated, necessary and supportive. Intention, breath, movement. Sourcing resourcefulness.

A graceful resilience might be the stretch goal, but any resilience counts.

Tenderness for my own heart.

Tenderness for my own heart (is it a stretch?)

It’s certainly a beautiful wish. Is that a stretch goal too? Maybe, but that’s okay.

We can stretch into it gently, we will get there when we get there. What matters is the process of noticing and naming the needs, the work that doesn’t get enough credit.

Courage, courage. Miracles, miracles. Guidance, guidance. Trust, trust.

All this and more for our resilient brave hearts.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

Leave a pebble (o) to say you were here, so I know I’m not doing this alone.

Also it feels good to pick up a pebble and place it somewhere, I have noticed.

And of course you are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped, clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

This will pop up a new page on Follow.It that lets you subscribe via email, newsletter, or RSS reader. They say “expect 50 stories a week”, and that’s a very imaginary number, once a week is the dream.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

Anyone who gives to the Discretionary this week (more info below) will get my Emergency Calming Techniques package by email as a pdf. I am only checking email twice a week because I no longer have wifi at my place, long story, so be patient with me but if it doesn’t show up within the week then let me know!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to the Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

Right-sized

by Havi Brooks | Jan 9, 2025 | my personal practice

a tiny chocolate waffle on a wooden plate on a wooden desk, with half a glass of coffee Reflecting on a small dessert waffle, the right thing at the right time.

A breath for these tough times

Announcement / get your copy of Emergency Calming Down Techniques

I’ve been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and it’s been helping.

Right Sized

Appreciating the little things, but in a very literal sense

One of the things I didn’t anticipate about living in a tiny space (just under 200 sq ft) is how much I would come to love and appreciate smaller scale objects.

Not in the usual way that we tend to adore tiny things — they are cute, it is pleasurable to hold something small in the palm of your hand, there is something almost magnetic (to me at least) about an object formed in miniature, or really any smaller version of its usual self.

But specifically I mean that when you reside inside of a very compact space, there’s something compelling about the sense of utility and grace when you are fortunate enough to have the right tool for the job; an object that is just the right size for that small space.

Utility and grace

I have a petite potato masher that does everything I need a potato masher to do, including helping with the alchemy of apples, turning them into the best applesauce for applesauce cake.

Or mashing the no-longer-frozen bananas that have been macerating in brown sugar all day for chocolate cinnamon banana bread.

And when I see it hanging on its tiny hook, I think: that is the perfect size potato masher for a very cozy kitchen.

It does the job, and it is also compact in a way that makes sense within the space. There is something harmonious and reassuring about its right size.

Not fitting

“We don’t easily fit the world.” This is something C. Thi Nguyen, the philosophy professor whose every thought I am delighted with, said in a podcast episode, and it sent my mind in a hundred different directions at once.

This seems true, or at least, it feels true. We do not easily fit the world. I often have the sensation that the world and external culture generally were not designed for me.

Who made all these flashing lights and loud noises. Who came up with all these rules and expectations.

Or: Why is the time of year that we do new year resolutions and are expected to set goals and make progress on said goals, located in JANUARY, the time of year when all I want to do is hibernate in bed on a heating pad under a gigantic pile of blankets?

Some of these are the questions of a neurodivergent person who is tired of this nonsense, but also I think they are generally reasonable.

And while I’m asking, let’s whisper-ask this, or maybe shout it into the abyss…

Where is there room in this culture to question this basic setup of being expected to work forty hours a week when in reality it takes at least that many hours just to make food, clean house, get fresh air, get enough movement, tend to mental and emotional well-being, check in on people we care about, and maybe knock some things off the ongoing list of things that need taking care of?

Add to this the fact that quite often many of our “working” hours are not in fact particularly productive in a way that is either meaningful or fun?

And yet sitting at a desk for hours at a time refreshing email is somehow so much more highly valued than the time we spend in percolating mode, going for walks, talking to a tree friend or a person friend, or taking hours to make a soup…

Back to right-sized

The point that Thi was making though here is that inside of a game, you can accomplish things and enjoy that feeling of accomplishment, because it’s all designed to be right-sized in relationship to each other.

Everything in the game has been set up so that with a right-sized amount of effort, you can achieve the objective, or a step towards the objective. Everything is made to fit.

That idea and also the word-combination — RIGHT + SIZED — began to reverberate within me as I went about my day of trying to solve all the problems, resolve all the mysteries, troubleshoot the troubles, deal with the seemingly endless list…

The right word for the job

I started talking about RIGHT SIZED as a theme to various friends, and they all felt this same spark of excitement, the same sense that right-sized feels vital and crucial both as a clue and as a useful term that we can use.

A couple of them began dropping this phrase into morning or evening journaling: what could be a more right-sized approach to a task, to the ongoing list, the day to day doing?

A chance to play

I was immediately handed an opportunity to play and experiment with questions related to literal RIGHT SIZED, because…

My friend is visiting from the Pacific Northwest, and brought me the gift of a toaster/convection oven which was so kind and thoughtful, and also a beautiful and elegant It Solved Itself answer to an ongoing wish I have had.

Which is related to how my current tiny oven is absolutely right-sized for my space, but also it is truly a teeny tiny thing. Like imagine an EZ-bake style child’s toy oven, but then also know that every time someone visits me, they literally gasp at how small it is, and at the miracle that I am able to bake in it.

So I have been wishing wishes about being able to do things like roast a pan of vegetables, or bake multiple pieces of cake at a time instead of painstakingly baking one piece, and then the next.

And then it solved itself because I got this lovely gift of a larger oven, except the larger oven is not right sized for any of my shelves or cabinets in my tiny space…

Observing how I can default to contorting myself…

Instead of remembering to put this dilemma into the cauldron of It Solves Itself, I started frantically considering how I could make it work anyway.

Get a shelf built a for it but where? Move everything off the counter and let it take a chunk of precious counter space? Move things out from under my kitchen table and let it live there where I either bake on the floor or take it out and put it on the counter on Cooking Club days?

Put it outside in a tub and bring it in when needed?

All of these solutions felt effortful and not right-sized, but I was really trying hard to make one of them work anyway.

What else is known about Right Sized?

I am loving Right Sized as a superpower and as a clue, and as another iteration of It Solves Itself.

What if right-sizing is the solution, or, what if it is the approach that will allow the solution to reveal itself?

Kristi said: Ooo game clue: recognize a category of problem solving that is “right-sizing” and how much life/points does it provide, which objects/concepts are relevant, at what point in the turn does it get done…

If I am in a game, or if I can imagine that I am in a game, what is my objective, and what is my approach? And am I doing too much? Am I making something more effortful and contrived than it needs to be out of habit?

Do Less To Get More

In the context of goals or wishes or goal-wishes, what do I know about goals that are right sized?

This is related to what my dance teacher used to call DO LESS TO GET MORE, and also related to taking on fewer things generally, to the extent that this is even possible in a world that has a lot of demands and things that need to be done.

This is also related to my ongoing practice of remembering that I have ADHD, and 90% of the time, a given task will take 4-5 times longer than I estimate, but the other 10% of the time, something I think will take days might actually only take like ten minutes if I can just get myself to start.

And while I can’t necessarily know which is which in advance, I can be kind to myself and give myself grace.

Kindness, and giving myself grace

I can practice kindness and giving myself grace by noticing when I am being hard on myself or harsh with myself or expecting myself to be able to do things that are not easy for me.

I can also practice kindness and giving myself grace by being generous with how I go about allotting time for activities, but also by lovingly selecting constraints that will help me just start.

The ongoing troubles of Just Start

It is quite often almost impossibly hard for me to Just Start, but I am a big fan of any right-sized Complete Willingness Unit (a term I think I got from Barbara Sher but if I did not then please correct me).

That is to say, maybe I can’t JUST START writing, but maybe there are some right-sized CWUs.

For example, maybe I can make a cup of tea, vacuum the floor, light the candle, and open the document of themes on my mind. Maybe one will speak to me. Maybe I can journal on it for three minutes. Maybe.

Maybe I can’t JUST START getting ready for the laundromat, but maybe I can put on a trusted song and bravely gather up all the towels.

Maybe I can’t JUST START dealing with email, but maybe I can come up with a strategy for braving ten minutes in the inbox and just deleting/archiving anything is very clearly a delete-or-archive.

These are potentially more right-sized doors for me into doing some good vanquishing, which is another current theme…

What do I know about Right Sized?

What does the self or version of myself who knows more about Right Sized want me to know?

This self dwants me to start with the opposite question: What do I know about what is not Right-Sized.

Okay, I do actually know quite a bit about that. What is not right-sized is goals that are too big, or projects with too many steps, that’s a surefire way for me to get overwhelmed.

I need it to be crave-able, to feel [AND I CRAVE IT], because if I don’t crave it, I won’t care enough to stick with it, and am not sure exactly how this is part of Right Sized, but I feel certain that it is, that the appeal and the size are related.

It solved itself is also a form of right-sizing

One of my mysteries of Right Sized solved itself which is a win on both the category of RIGHT SIZED and in the category of IT SOLVED ITSELF.

I found a more narrow plug attachment that would allow the not-right-sized oven to fit; in other words something not right-sized can potentially become right-sized. A transformation, which was last week’s theme.

And then it solved itself again!

It turned out that my friend felt bad that the oven they brought was too big, and maybe also was feeling sentimental about all the good times they’ve had with that oven, so they started doing right-sized oven research and found a smaller toaster/convection oven that was super on sale and bought it on a whim.

So now I will get the smaller oven and my friend will take their favorite oven back with them, and it all worked out and we were both happy about this, which is also the amazing blessing or superpower of what if what is best for me in this situation also turns out to be best for everyone involved, the dream.

A right-sized solution in all ways. Isn’t that beautiful. What else is like this or could be like this?

It’s the little things (sometimes literally!)

I am thinking about other ways we can appreciate the little things, as in: it’s the little things, but also in the sense of SMALL SHIFTS towards yes, and also in the sense of compact solutions.

When a right-sized solution offers itself, it is reassuring.

And if a solution is not right-sized, maybe I want to wait and see, or maybe I want to keep it moving, or maybe I want to get rid of some things and make space.

How do we bridge?

What is the transition from not-right-sized to more-right-sized?

I think it starts with noticing that I have yet again taken on too much, or that I got overwhelmed because something has too many steps, or the steps are too big.

Or, alternately, that I am thinking too small, and need some expansiveness.

I think this is about checking in with the question more than anything. How am I doing? Where am I at? Is this a good fit?

Right-sizing the list

Something I try to do each day with my list is rename each item (for magic, for poetry, for de-stressing, or to make it either more enticing or more relatable), and then break it down into smaller steps, the aforementioned Complete Willingness Units.

Is this step right-sized, is it a step I could conceivably take or coax myself into taking, and what is its new name?

Right-sizing, and also renaming as a form of right-sizing.

Disentangling myself perfectionism, when I can, to the extend that I can

This is about noticing patterns of perfectionism, aka am I turning my wish for RIGHT SIZED into another form of striving, more focused on a future idea of achieving than on being present with what is.

And can I be kind with myself about that when I notice it too?

Right-sized isn’t about perfect; we don’t have to fall into the trap of expectations related to getting everything to fit just so or be just right.

Right? Because, again, the world isn’t built like that and life doesn’t work that way. Most of it is going to be not right-sized, and navigating the discomfort of that is part of existing.

Right-sized as a theme for me is more about orienting myself towards a theme, and less about being laser-focused on an end-goal, if that makes sense.

What is next on the quest of right-sizing?

I think I want to just sit with this phrase and concept some more, and let it reverberate. It feels like an important clue, and maybe the why of that will reveal itself later. Or maybe it’s not important why.

Also I am hoping that I can keep finding daily examples: ”Oh look how x solved itself, look how y became more right-sized, look how we changed the shape of a task or lowered the expectations to make it more doable…”

Maybe as I play with noticing how I relate to the size of things, I will also become aware of how I want to be in relationship with those experiences…

How do I want to be in relationship with [X]?

Calling on grace, compassion, curiosity, sweetness and warmth.

Drawing on presence, playfulness, receptivity, courage, trust and ease.

Channeling a motivation to show up and just start, and find out where it leads.

A right-sized amount of these qualities, a right-sized appreciation for the mystery.

And so we begin / and so we continue

Here’s to a year of right-sizing, of trying to be in right relationship to the tasks at hand — which probably involves making them more bite-sized.

Here’s to a year of being more attentive and cognizant in my relationship to how things are sized, to what Thi calls An Aesthetics of Activity

Adding right-sized to my wishes, my experiments, my compass — the circle of qualities I am naming and invoking for this year.

Entering as I wish to be in it. With as much hope and presence as I can conjure in this moment, and maybe that too can be the right size, however much it is. Breathing into my courage-heart, let’s do this.

That seems like a good place to start. What do you think? Let’s be brave and keep going.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

Leave a pebble (o) to say you were here, so I know I’m not doing this alone.

Also it feels good to pick up a pebble and place it somewhere, I have noticed.

And of course you are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped, clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.

An Alchemy of Apples and a Tatterdemalion

by Havi Brooks | Jan 2, 2025 | stuff I think about

Reflecting on a dramatic split alligator juniper tree, still thriving, despite whatever its been through.

Announcement / get your copy of Emergency Calming Down Techniques

I’ve been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and it’s been helping.

An Alchemy of Apples and a Tatterdemalion

The waiting periods

Someone gave me an ungodly number of very small red apples, and they sat in the turquoise colander on my counter for an amount of time that began to worry me, collecting soft spots that I would press with concern as if I was in the business of analyzing apple spots, until…?

Until it felt like the time had really come to do something about them or with them, but what.

I told Cate that I didn’t know what to do with the apples, that they were feeling symbolically burdensome, as if they wanted something from me but I didn’t know what it was, and how everything more or less feels like this lately, and it’s hard to describe.

Perception

This perception that various projects are waiting for me to remember them, notice them, care about them, or to somehow become the person who is capable of that kind of passion, enthusiasm and care again.

Capable of care, that feels important. Important and also currently often out of reach.

I don’t know even know if it’s true or not, that the apples want anything from me, or that I have forgotten how to care, it’s just a vague sensation in the background about everything all the time.

Seeds versus urgency

If the seeds of desire have been planted, it is not yet time to see what will grow.

And so I am trying not to stress too much while waiting, but also sometimes you have a pile of apples that is like, hey please turn me into a something before it’s too late.

That’s what I mean about this perception that the situations want something from me, and I don’t have the something to give yet, or maybe I don’t even know what the something is to begin with, never mind how to access it.

Okay, applesauce, for example

Cate told me that she’d just made a delightful applesauce with anise and cardamom, and this sounded like the correct activity for a day of grey and gloom in this season that is (for me) characterized by The Big Melancholy, and a lot of doubt and ambient anxiety.

I turned the pile of apples into a large batch of applesauce, and my kitchen smelled amazing.

It was a therapeutic process. There is something useful and good about observing a transformation in action. Look, it happened.

Maybe just remembering that this is possible, that situation [too many apples] can turn into [oh hey, a pot of applesauce].

But then I remembered that I don’t really like applesauce that much, certainly not enough to remember to have some, even when there are jars and jars of it in my refrigerator waiting to be appreciated.

Something about cravings

There is no And I crave it for me about applesauce, and it turns out that I am only motivated by the feeling of And I crave it.

Is that depression or is that neurodivergence or is that just an element of how things are right now, and does it matter, probably not.

Radical Acceptance of Moment Present (RAMP it up, take the on-RAMP) suggests that I just put this in the category of IIWMI (It Is What It Motherfucking Is), and work with what is.

Here is something I know about myself in this moment, it has to be craveable or I will not take action.

The problem is the problem is the problem (until it isn’t)

What am I supposed to do with all this fucking applesauce became the new what am I supposed to do with all these fucking apples.

In permaculture they say, THE PROBLEM IS THE SOLUTION, and I can never decide if this is incredibly wise or incredibly infuriating. I suppose it is or can be both.

Once the solution reveals itself, you can say, ah yes, observe the brilliance of a simple solution!

The beauty in the solving

It is so beautiful in that moment when you see the problem solving itself; the problem helpfully offering its own solution, from within its own essence. A form of alchemical magic in action.

But while you are waiting for it to solve itself, it is hard to remember how to be lighthearted and at ease about being in the waiting period.

Obviously an abundance of applesauce is not one of the world’s great problems, and yet it still felt like a proxy problem, a stand-in for all the other mysteries that are not solving themselves, or at least not yet.

Alchemy is always an option, or at least: it is sometimes an option

Justin sent me a Smitten Kitchen recipe for chai applesauce muffins, and certainly Deb has never let me down, so I made applesauce cake.

I made it gluten-free, and also subbed in flax eggs, used home-made chai ghee instead of butter, then skipped the nuts because I don’t think cake requires nuts. Also added a fennel rose simple syrup I’d made, and topped it with crumbled brown sugar instead of doing an icing.

The applesauce cake, much to my surprise, turned out to be extremely AND I CRAVE IT, to the point that I noticed I was spending my morning jog thinking about how much I was looking forward to a slice or two of it with my chicory burdock fake coffee.

Which was fun. Better than fun, actually.

Better than fun

I love having something to think about that is not a) how heartbroken and bereft I feel, b) the unsolvable and very boring mystery of what on earth could have happened to make someone I loved and trusted stop loving me, and c) all the fucking problems that have not revealed their solutions yet.

What a reprieve to have my thoughts revolving around the sweetness and simplicity of an enjoyable and fulfilling ritual, instead of trying to solve for things that need to solve themselves.

The power and the delight of a good surprise

I surprised myself by feeling so AND I CRAVE IT, in a good way, about this applesauce cake.

And then I surprised myself again and even more by not just keeping it in the rotation but tossing everything else out of the rotation, and just baking the applesauce cake five times in a row.

And then further surprised myself by going to town to acquire more apples to make more applesauce to make more applesauce cake.

Third transformation is the charm?

Tamar Adler says: “When we cook things, we transform them. And small acts of transformation are among the most human things we do. Whether it’s nudging dry leaves around a patch of cement, or salting a tomato, we feel, when we exert tiny bits of our human preference in the universe, more alive.”

I am fascinated not only by this process of transformation, but in feeling into which iteration holds the yes.

The first transformation, apples into applesauce, was interesting but not yes. It was the next transformation that did the trick.

I don’t know how many exertions of human preference, to use Tamar’s excellent phrase, are needed in any of these situations, but I am intrigued by the notion that the first transformation might not hold the yes. You just keep transforming.

Keep transforming, with love and patience. An ongoing experiment.

Laundry day, for example

Going to the laundromat is truly the bane of my existence, I hate it so much.

In part because it’s so time-consuming. But mainly because of the way Long Covid works.

If I do something that takes a lot of energy and has many moving parts to keep track of (gathering the laundry, loading up the car, taking out cash somewhere to change into coins, driving to the laundromat, running errands while the laundry runs, loading it all back up, driving all the way back, carrying it all into the house, making the bed with clean sheets), there is so much more involved than the time and effort it takes to make it all happen.

There is the day of fretting about it and the day or two of recovering from it, and then the dread about doing it again. It takes up so much space in my brain.

LOAD it up

And yet, because it must be done, each time I try to come up with a new name to make it less hateful.

L.O.A.D. it up stands for Lighthearted Ops And Dreams Day, for example.

Other times I pretend I’m on the show Leverage: Let’s go steal clean sheets!

What is the apples into applesauce into applesauce cake of Laundry Day? What is the next transformation?

This is the mystery I am constantly trying to solve, or asking for it to solve itself.

In radical acceptance of hating something and wishing I didn’t hate it but I do…

Pretending it can somehow be not hate-able or less hate-able is not an option, because reality is that I do in fact hate it.

Or maybe what I hate is living alone with chronic illness, maybe if I had company it could become a fun adventure, but see also: this is the moment that is…

And so, in radical acceptance of how much I hate the laundromat, I asked a friend to plug “I hate the laundromat” into the anagram generator for me.

A Tatterdemalion, Huh

I hope you will appreciate as much as I did that “I hate the laundromat” anagrams to A Tamale Donut HITHER, which is amazing.

Thought it also anagrams to A Tatterdemalion Huh.

Or: Huh, A Tatterdemalion!

And other excellent words

I had to look up the word Tatterdemalion, and it means:

Ragged or disreputable in appearance, being in a decayed state or condition, dilapidated.

RELATABLE CONTENT.

Relatable content.

Who among us. It’s just a tatterdemalion kind of day, here in tatterdemalion season.

I too am feeling ragged and dilapidated. Dilapidated is such an excellent word too.

It’s Tatterdemalion Day, let’s go!

Kathryn joked: “Another tatterdemalion, huh?”, The washer whispers to the dryer as it sees me coming.

And so, as much as I am disinclined to go to the laundromat, I do like the idea of Tatterdemalion Day.

We have gotten a little too tatterdemalion these days, time to run a laundry heist!

A dream of trees / I dream of trees

In the last conversation I had with Michael before he died, we were talking about fruit trees and how I want to plant some on my property, and he had so much excitement and enthusiasm for this plan.

He was always so encouraging and loving and supportive, and I miss these qualities, I miss him, I miss everything about him.

Sometimes I dream about having a little grove for Michael, something to tend to.

Maybe grow some apples. Imagine that. Apples that could in theory one day transform into applesauce and then into applesauce cake that I feel excited about while I jog in my kitchen as the sun rises.

Michael would laugh delightedly at this entire train of thought. I am thinking about the legendary green chile apple fritter he had in Albuquerque that he wanted to re-create.

That’s a good dream project too. I could get excited about a green chile apple fritter. I could care about that if I am going to find my way back to care.

Three or even four trees

If I could find a way to house a washing machine on the property, and used only natural soap, and the water redirected to water the fruit trees, then one load of laundry a week would support three or even four apple trees.

Imagining this sometimes fills me with hope and joy, because it is such a beautiful vision, and sometimes fills me with despair because it feels so far off and impossible at the current moment.

Too many mysteries to solve for, no one to tell me what steps in what order.

It’s a beautiful vision, no more laundromat days and looking forward to future applesauce cake.

But it feels distant and unobtainable, vague, foggy.

Calling on the superpowers of Three Months Later, Amplified

A while ago, I wrote about the phenomenon of Three Months Later, like on a television show when one of the main characters has disappeared, and they have to fill in the blanks. So you get an expository sequence of Three Months Later, Dot Dot Dot…

I like three months as a period of time, solstice to equinox, quarters as a slice of time, quarters as living quarters, a space that holds you, a place you dwell inside of and inhabit.

Because I don’t do resolutions but only experiments and wishes, I am thinking about all the small experiments and wishes I could play with inside of the container of these next three months.

But I am also putting this wish for A Tatterdemalion Solution and Fruit Trees and On-Site Laundry and A Grove of Love of Tending into the cauldron of three months later.

And the cauldron of it solves itself. and the cauldron of what if the problem turns out to be the solution…

What else do we want to put into the wishing cauldron?

Doing the things that help — more candles, more walks outdoors, more stretching, for starters.

Even on the Gloomiest Day of Gloom, when everything feels bad including and especially brain weather, and the candle lighter is out of charge, and I can’t find the charger for it and somehow turned that into a whole story about how I lose things that are important, there are always things to do that help, and they always help more than I think they will (even when not as much as I want them to).

Even when it is so scary to let myself hope or wish for anything, I also know that it is brave and beautiful to be a human being in a body, wanting wants and needing needs. Breathing courage into my tender vulnerable heart.

Into the wishing cauldron:

Into the wishing cauldron of sweet and astonishing transformations and alchemy, apples into applesauce into the most craveable cake…

Care. Ritual. Grace. Sweetness.

Repair. Tending. Courage. Love.

Focus. Clarity. Ease. Encouragement.

Wonder. Togetherness. Comfort. Returning to myself.

May it be so or something even better.

In the meantime, peace peace peace, courage courage courage, miracles miracles miracles, and doing whatever helps, as a symbol of trust.

A quiet roundabout back-door sort of entry to the new year…

I wrote about laundry and apples because I wasn’t ready to write new year wishes or to process anything about what I want, or to let myself be brave enough to stride directly into the wanting.

And as usual, applying Safety First and a little play was the right approach, because I actually learned quite a bit about what I want and crave, what helps me feel grounded and centered, what matters to me.

I hope you can also find some good playful ways to sneak your way into wishing wishes, in a form that feels safe and supported, to let your curiosity lead the way.

It can be vulnerable and overwhelming enough to just move through this transition time of year with all the social pitfalls and pressure of NEWNESS and PASSAGE OF TIME, without having to resolve resolutions, make goals or name wishes in any kind of formal way.

So we can play, experiment, add on layers of safety and sweetness, bake some applesauce cake, name the mysteries, observe the alchemy, find clues, enjoy the treasure of a good AND I CRAVE IT when we are lucky enough to find one.

Wishing you lots of peace, ease, good surprises and/or whatever you need most. Glad you are here with me.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

Leave a pebble (o) to say you were here, so I know I’m not doing this alone.

Also it feels good to pick up a pebble and place it somewhere, I have noticed.

And of course you are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped, clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.

a sky of mostly clouds features promising blue streaks and a hint of sunshine

Reflecting on the promising blue streaks in a sky of clouds, I see you streaks of blue, sunshine-streaks and hope-streaks, shifting possibilities.

Announcement / if you want a copy of Emergency Calm Down Techniques

I have been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and that’s been helping me.

I am giving away a copy of these (ebook + audio recordings) to anyone who gives any sum of money at all to the appreciation funds / discretionary fund in the hopes that we can all keep practicing together, for each other and for the collective, and also for ourselves in these scary times. ❤️

On Hope, and Seasonal Protocols

Dark, dark, dark, dark

It is dark, dark, dark here right now, and by here I mean everything from generally, in the northern hemisphere, careening as we are towards winter solstice, to specifically in the place where I live where it is physically very dark.

There are no lights out in the countryside on the edge of national forest. I can’t see my neighbors. I can see stars through my kitchen window if the sky is clear of clouds.

I jog slow figure eights in my kitchen twice each day, in the dark of morning and the dark of evening.

A ritual that is equal parts staying warm and maintaining some sense of sanity; to give a rhythm to my days. Each day bookended by these slow perambulations.

Reorienting towards light sparks

A month ago my morning jog was a way to enjoy sunrise, the light returning as promised, here it comes. Come on, blue sky, hello fields, hello light on the treetops.

And a month ago my evening jog was for slow sweet sunset time.

And now while I am jogging, because evening and darkness arrive so very early now and the light stays away until later in the morning, there is no light at all — unless there is moonlight, other than the tea light lit in my bedroom, or the light of the space heater glowing beneath the desk.

An occasional flash of lights car on the winding country road, sometimes I can see a bright planet from my window.

And yet, still, etc

I always forget that December is like this, so very dark, so impossibly dark, as if this great darkness of sky is a force I need to re-learn to interact with. It’s so intense, it’s so big. It asks more trust of me than I am willing to offer.

And yet, the candle gets lit. I jog alone with my thoughts around the kitchen until it’s either bed time or day time. Bookends.

But also, if we go even more granular, if we gaze into the depths, there is a sensation of overwhelming darkness in my heart space where I am trying to re-locate my courage heart and my loving heart and my hopeful heart. That is to say, everything feels like it’s gone dark.

Gone dark, not necessarily bad

If everything has gone dark, or my impression is that it has…

Is that a bad thing? It doesn’t have to be.

What if navigating this terrain is in its own way seasonal or transient too. Here we are, in the time that calls for more candles, more ritual, more hope practices…

Now is not then

Last year I said I was in and out of the pits of despair, clawing my way out and then toppling back in, then trying again. Bravely, courageously.

Good job to last year me, who went through some hard things, including nine weeks without seeing a single person or having even one conversation, which was exquisitely miserable, and let’s not do that again.

This feels both similar but very different.

The act of describing something that can’t be described

Heartbreak and grief remain the same: brutal to experience, and also extremely boring if I attempt to describe them in words.

If we are going by physical sensation, hmmmmmmm maybe about half the time I feel like I’m about to vomit, and the other half of the time I’m on the verge of tears but simultaneously convinced that if I let myself cry as much as I need to, I will simply never stop, and also it will be the kind of hyperventilating-sobbing where it feels like you can’t access your breath, so I don’t want it, but also it is definitely waiting for me…

If I try to convey the emotional weight of it, there is also a 50-50 element to it, a teeter-totter effect. Not hovering between two places, but wobbling.

Teetering, not as thrilling as it sounds

Teetering, tottering, in the in-between.

I walk this very narrow path and everything is too dark, impossibly dark, and on one side of me is the Abyss of Anxiety, and on the other side is the Chasm of Depression & Despair, and also I am super fucking bored of both of them? But also of the sensation of being lost in between them.

And something about this sense that balancing is too much work but falling is so tiresome, even if has become less scary as it is more familiar. Like, sure, we fell, it happens. We know how this works. At least there’s that.

Let’s find a path. Let’s conjure a bridge to somewhere else. There has to be more to this internal territory of heart healing than these two pits I’ve been visiting.

Partially true (what’s also true?)

Took a clue walk the other day in the form of a sunny weekend drive to run errands, and felt overwhelmingly sad the entire time.

I thought about this Big Sadness and said: Maybe this will pass. Maybe I just have to get through it. Maybe there isn’t anything else to do right now other than be this sad.

That felt partially true and partially not (what’s also true???), but I didn’t get much time to think about it because of what happened next…

Miracles, miracles

On the drive back, I suddenly began crying so hard I couldn’t see the road and there was nowhere to pull over, so I kept asking for miracles and guidance.

Miracles, miracles. Guidance, guidance.

And what I received, almost immediately was this:

BREATHE INTO YOUR COURAGE HEART, BREATHE LOVE INTO YOUR COURAGE HEART.

Repetition

I made it through the winding country drive home by repeating this:

Miracles miracles / breathe into my courage heart / I am breathing love into my courage heart

And that helped somewhat.

Somewhat is nonzero, more than nothing, I will take it.

Also it helps that I can picture my courage heart because during morning movement practice, I finger-write the word courage on my heart and practice breathing into it.

Maybe

So maybe if I can breathe love into my courage heart, I can also breathe courage into my love heart.

Still heartbroken though. Multiple things can be true at once. Still hurting, still moving, still breathing, still striding, still here.

Still here. Still breathing into my courage heart.

On Hope

A friend who has also been going through some hard life challenges said:

“I want to believe it’s possible to find some hope.
And also it kind of seems like hope is something you do? Like it’s a practice, putting on socks, standing up, putting one foot in front of the other. Or even just sitting up, right? Continuing to live. Maybe thinking through what would need to happen [with all the challenges] is a form of practicing hope? To think it’s even possible that things could change?”

Hope as a practice

I do agree with my wise friend that hope is sometimes like putting on socks — but harder, though some days socks are also a journey of perceived obstacles to be sure.

And also yes, hope is just something that needs a lot of repetition.

And I do wish to acknowledge that hope in and of itself can sometimes feel so hard and so scary; it can feel utterly fragile, or hard to access.

It is such a loving thing to do too, a brave and loving thing, to hope for other people and for yourself.

A candle in the window. A statement in the form of an action. It is morning and so I will jog in my little circles until the light returns.

A critical component

The part of Hope Practices that’s about releasing attachment to outcome is also so hard, and yet to me that seems like a critical component to hope.

I hope for better, I want things to improve, for me and for people I love and for people in the world and for everyone reading here. And also I have no way of knowing what the best possible outcome is; I don’t even necessarily know what a good outcome is.

And so I have to trust that solutions are being seeded, that mysteries are solving themselves, that help is on the way, that guidance is there is for me.

Part of hope as a practice includes the hope that practicing the practice and doing the things that helps holds its own value and meaning, even on the days when I cannot feel into the truth of that.

(If that makes sense)

I hope to be loved again in the way that I thought [person] loved me, but I also have to hope for the kind of contentment that will let me be okay with not finding a love like that even though I want it. If that makes sense.

I will or I won’t, but either way I don’t have to stay here between the two chasms. I can wander my way, or powerfully stride my way, into new territories. If that makes sense too.

Inside of my own tiny universe of chaos, I continue to hope my way towards remembering my strength, towards a re-invigorated sense of resilience.

I hope my way towards myself. I am hoping my way towards myself.

Actively, purposefully, sometimes terrified, sometimes teetering a little.

On Resilience

A lovely person who reads what I write here wrote:

You’ve inspired a lot of resilience in me, and I could never properly thank you for that. Still. Thank you. The future looks bleak, but I light a candle and I hope.

That’s very beautiful to me.

Resilience is a hope-based practice, and Hope is a resilience-based practice. Neither feels intuitive to me, and yet, what else is there.

Lighting a candle matters. Naming the painful things and naming the beautiful things. Breathing love into my courage heart. Breathing courage into my loving hurting heart.

Breathing hope into my resilience heart, resilience into a hopeful heart. We can do this. Or at least: we can try and keep trying, and trust in the trying. The trying matters.

On Ballast

Another lovely reader of what I post here wrote:

Thank you for all the ballast your writing has given over these now fairly many years. Your latest – on reeling and No Fucksgiving – were so welcome. In this time of feeling often disconnected, they melted into me and I’m moving through the days with them.

I love the image of ballast, something that balances and stabilizes. A word from the world of ships and sailing, which are movement-based and not chasms at all.

Even better, they take place at sea, and while it’s true that the sea can also seem dark and vast like the big winter sky here, the sea can also take you somewhere new on the trade winds.

Stabilizing practices for destabilizing times

We are in destabilizing times but we have stabilizing practices available to us: breath, movement, ritual, hope, candles, dancing, balancing, singing, humming, talking to the stars.

We can re-stabilize. We can do anchoring things.

Grounding practices

The thing I notice the most about my various movement practices is that they help even when they don’t. They help more than I think they will even when they help less than I want to.

Sometimes it’s enough to do them on the basis of believing that it’s good for me even when I’m fighting it.

The practice of hope is practicing hope.

Whatever reminds me to breathe more deeply, to drop my shoulders, to remember that my courage heart is there waiting for me to breathe into it…all of that is good and useful, whether I feel like it or not, whether I do a little or more than a little.

Tending to myself is valuable in and of itself. Remembering is valuable.

More guidance

I went to the pool to ask for wisdom, and it said to keep focusing on contentment (in my courage heart, in general) and naming the good and doing what helps, and assume it’s all for the best as a starting point.

As a starting point.

I like that.

Any starting point is good.

Cold spell

It’s been going down to 18 degrees Fahrenheit (-7 degrees Celsius!) which is very cold, and I do not have central heating in my little trailer.

In the late afternoon, I fill jugs and vessels with water, then turn off the water at the pump before it gets dark and send up a little prayer for the pipes not bursting.

In the morning I cook soup to help warm the kitchen while I do my workout, and around noon, I turn the water back on for washing dishes. It’s an inconvenient system, going into camping mode, but it works, or so far it has.

I’m just doing this for a spell, I say. Just for right now. Hoping my way into something easier and better, but also getting better at this, the right here right now of this experience.

Seasonal Protocols

Okay, I actually have a lot to say on this topic, and probably need to save it for next time, so I will just say that right now RITUAL and HOPE are my seasonal protocols, or my general categories. Not just for heartache, but for long COVID, for TBI, for seasonal gloom, for all of it.

Within that, there’s a lot of detail. But I think it’s an interesting question. What are the protocols and support mechanisms for a very cold day, a very dark day, a very high grief levels day, a bad brain day, a day when nothing is working?

Or if you are in the southern hemisphere, maybe you are figuring out protocols for heat and low energy and siesta o’clock!

Where do these protocols live, and what helps us remember what works? This is what I am thinking about these days. Some elements come back easily from past winters; others I rediscover the hard way all over again.

Seasons gleamings, longer days

In a week and a half, we slowly begin to orient towards more sun here; the days will gradually get longer where I am, and, if the gods are willing, I will get to observe this on my morning and evening jog.

Maybe in six weeks time is when I will notice more light, but noticing, like hope, is a practice of perseverence. You show up for the noticing.

I am thinking, as I always do this time of year, how utterly ridiculous it is that this is the time our culture wants us to start thinking about resolutions and new habits, and making big changes, when this is so clearly a time for hibernating, percolating, letting things shift in their own right timing.

And yet, if there is one thing I know a lot about, it’s rewriting patterns and habits, and so I am wondering if that is a thread to follow and write more about. Like maybe part of the practice of hope is returning to the places that make sense to me.

A practice of practicing

One step and then another step.

Doing the thing that helped last time, or doing the opposite of the thing that helped last time.

Guidance guidance. Miracles miracles.

May the next steps reveal themselves, even when the path feels shrouded in darkness. Maybe this is the time for moving slowly and even more slowly than that. Maybe this is the time for striding exuberantly. Maybe this is the time for trying both and feeling into which one is right for the moment.

Maybe it’s the time for imagining our way into a movement, a next step. Letting my breath move me. Trusting the fractal magic. Breathing into my courage heart.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped or clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.