Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

I know I ask this every single week but seriously, how is it Friday?

That makes no sense.

And yet, here we are. So let’s chicken away.

The hard stuff

Curse you, Devilish Mosquitos!

Gaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Everything I hate about summer.

Walls of gnats. Having to claw your way through acres of spider webs just to get out the door.

Those awful baby crows with their endless evil adolescent raspy cawing.

Way too much to do.

And it keeps building up.

And I wasn’t able to work on any of the really important things this week because of the distractions.

Distractions of the worse possible kind.

People needing stuff from me, always when it wasn’t a time or a situation where I could give it.

Mini-project-ey things coming up that I didn’t ask for and didn’t want but turned out to be unavoidable.

My stuckification around not wanting to do these things making them take longer.

Lots of people in my space. All kinds of resulting sovereignty challenges. Getting irritable and impatient.

One thing gets resolved and another gets borked.

Each time I’d put on my imaginary crown and my super hot sovereignty boots, and solve the thing that wasn’t working.

And then, no sooner than the problem du jour got zapped into being okay, the next sovereignty challenge showed up.

It was like a very not fun video game.

Also, I suck at estimating times, it turns out.

So each time I’d finally get a window to work on that thing I thought I needed twenty five minutes for, it would turn out that it was actually a fifty five minute thing.

Or I’d avoid something because I knew it needed half an hour of uninterrupted time but then it really only needed ten minutes.

Very frustrating.

Drunk Pirate Council.

So I love having Drunk Pirate Council instead of the dreaded “meetings” we used to have avoid.

But what with my crazed teaching schedule, we haven’t had Council, drunk or otherwise in nearly two months.

As if my own Piles of Doom were not enough, the first Council back was hardcore.

We put a time limit on it but it was still way too intense.

The good stuff

We’re back to Drunk Pirate Council!

Everything goes better when there’s a) someone present to help me, b) someone to tell me what to do, and c) whiskey.

Cheers to the First Mate, who does a remarkably admirable job of putting up with my fits of despair.

Genius advice (and help) from Hiro.

I’d been dealing with two different but equally challenging situations that were basically the same thing.

People abdicating responsibility for their choices and the consequences, then blaming me for it and then playing victim.

I turned to Hiro, who did a bad-ass healing for my related stucknesses and then, full of wisdom, as always, suggested:

Give them their blame back. They can do whatever they want with it. You don’t have to accept it into your life and you don’t have to resist it.

Just hand it right back to them and let their little gift-wrapped packages stay with them where it belongs.

This is really what my cousin Anat always says — “just because someone hands you shit doesn’t mean you have to take it from them”.

But this time I think some deeper part of me actually got it. Progress. Yay.

World Cup.

This really needs to be in the hard and the good. But I guess mostly the good.

Also the being done of it is a good.

Oh man. I love it with a passion and yet it hurts so much.

But it’s so beautiful. But.

Exactly.

Ah. Relief.

Got an extremely scary-looking envelope from the Bannister (what I call our business attorney, because having an attorney is weird and because the word barrister is funny).

But it turned out to be just a receipt for payments made, etc.

And exhale.

Everything I love about summer!

Sitting on the porch swing! Smelling the roses! Oregon cherries! And raspberries! And blackberries!

Hoppy House is just the perfect place to live in the summer.

And our blueberries are full of love.

I can’t even tell you how happy our vegetable garden makes me. Just hooray for all of it.

Teaching something fun.

I asked Mariko to co-teach a class with me at the Kitchen Table on the art of cutting your losses.

It’s called something like Sunk Costs, Saying Goodbyes and Getting Out of Dodge.

Anyway, really excited about this, since it’s something I keep learning the hard way. And I’ll try to post some notes here as well about some of the stuff we’ll talk about. Excellent.

Selma is a superstar! Again! Sort of.

One of our readers — inspired by Selma — used a duck in his short film, to spice up scenes with one of the characters.

Worth seeing if only because it also features my all-time favorite German-ism — Haaaenh?!

Here’s the video! That’s Michael’s. Right on.

The first official Shiva Nata class at the Playground is here!

Tonight!

And people have been doing figure eights in the air, as we say in Hebrew, to get there.

Various lovely Shivanauts and the shivanautically-curious are making their way to Portland, Oregon to spend two hours with me and Selma, workshop-ing it up.

So Elana went through hell trying to get here from Vancouver, but wild horses etc.

And then Léan was in California (she lives in Dublin) and talked her monsters into letting her have a secret sale to raise the monies to make it the rest of the way.

Miraculous things happened, the power of community, the magic of the Twitter and so forth. And she’s coming too!

Excitement.

(If you still have no idea why Shiva Nata is the best thing in the entire world, we need to change that.)

A wonderful thing I read this week:

This piece of extreme fabulousness is the very first post ever from Michelle (who is @shellbelle on Twitter.

I freaking LOVE the grey box at the top that says AAH OH GOD WHAT IS THIS BOX FOR NOW. And the title. You should go read it and welcome her to the world of blog because we like her.

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week’s band is a bit … uh, salacious-sounding. But their music rocks.

Slow Motion Dinosaur Sex

What a show, if I may say so. Except that in the end it turned out to really be just one guy.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day and a restful weekend-ing.

And a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

The Fluent Self