Friday chickenIn which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

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

Wow. There was a lot of week in this week, again.

And it whooshed by at an astonishing pace. I am slightly stunned to be here. Hi, Friday. You feel sweet today.

Mainly because me-from-last-week remembered how much I rage against Friday appointments (even if they do get to be called trysts), and she set things up for me to have spaciousness today. Thanks, honey.

The hard stuff

July.

A lot of old pain about not-ready.

The second hardest conversation in the history of Havi.

Well, maybe the third hardest.

But still really hard.

And agonizing to think about having it, which made it worse. And avoiding it, which made it worse. And doing lots of other things which ALL made it worse. Nice.

Not pain, exactly. Tightness.

The thing about agonizing over something that is going to happen that you don’t want to happen (confronting someone about a thing that they aren’t going to like!) is that it doesn’t just happen in your head.

The body-mind is processing everything everywhere all at the same time.

So there was all these layers of tension in my body. Not pain, exactly. Just endless tightness and constraint. Tightening and then curling up. Recoiling.

And it was hard for the sad, scared parts of me who think that now is going to be exactly like then. Because they don’t believe it will ever be safe to speak our mind.

So there was that. They would rather I maintain a situation that hurts my body to hold it than that I risk everything through living truthfully. So that was a lot of internal negotiating right there.

Knowing a thing and not being able to say the thing.

It would be inappropriate to say the thing, and it’s none of my business.

But then I feel pain watching people I care about making choices based on something that is not in integrity and they don’t know it’s not in integrity.

I do not wish for advice on this. I am just noting the challenge of it, and how this subtext was an added layer of tension in this week and in my body-mind-self this week.

Feeling an emotion that was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

Tenderness.

Not one of my superpowers.

It kind of freaked me out. A lot.

That was probably useful. I didn’t like it though.

Too much to be done in too little time.

Decisions not yet decided.

Needing more space and time than I currently perceive to be available to me.

That’s one way of putting it.

Accidentally ingested a thing that had sugar in it.

And promptly fell apart.

Then couldn’t remember that this was why I was feeling anxious and panicky all day.

So I was thoroughly convinced that something was actually wrong with me, and not remembering that this was my body reacting to something it perceives to be poison but thinking it was reacting in this highly emotional way to actual real-life circumstances.

Ugh.

Decision-making.

Especially when there are lots of people and timetables involved.

Double-especially when I don’t have all the information.

Triple-especially when I feel vulnerable.

Change of plans.

A thing I was tremendously looking forward to on August 3 is now not happening on August 3. Something else is happening on August 3 instead, and it is a GOOD thing, and I am adjusting to this.

Congruencing.

I asked for it in the vision of Possibility and Anticipation but man, hard work!

I am congruencing, as a verb. An active one. Bringing things that are disharmonious into more harmonious ways. Or really: noticing all the things in my life/space/work that are incongruent and then finding out what I know about that.

Guess what? Bringing things into alignment is a great way to run into all of your stuff. This was not news to me, but somehow I forgot about just how much stuff I have.

Hi, stuff. I learned a lot about you this week.

The good stuff

Congruencing!

It required courage and presence, but ohmygod.

So many things changed this week. Symbolic things. Big tangible things. Furniture moving around.

And just generally changing the positions and alignments of things in space, hoping that the mental will reshape in turn. Which it has been. A lot.

Hat Parade. Hat Parade!

I went with lady Chuck, and it was fabulous: small, kooky, adorably Portlandian.

Oh, and David and Rhiannon were there too, which was such a great surprise but also completely unsurprising as they are exactly who you would expect to run into when gathering for a hat parade.

The parade: mostly an assortment of very petite birdlike women in extreme vintage mode with shingled hair, wearing cloches, dresses from the late 20s and early 30s, gloves, parasols.

I was way underdressed, in all senses of that word. So it was fun to have company that was, like me, taking the notion of hat parade more into the general theme of “Let us wear outlandish hats and march together, because oh boy hats!”.

Next year I plan to make tiny popsicle stick signs that say Hat Parade! I feel strongly about hats. And also about parading for no apparent reason whatsoever other than HATS! It gives me faith that Stompopolis (the huge new part of the business that we are currently in the process of opening) will be a grand success if it can happen in a city where people can enjoy a preposterous DIY parade on a tiny theme.

I’m not explaining this very well but it was somehow reassuring. The main thing: It was fun! And Potter, my mouse (not really a mouse, I mean yes of course he is a mouse but not the kind that is alive) had his picture taken by tourists, multiple times. We were a sight.

Monday.

Danielle and I went on our Clandestine Executive Board Meeting (it’s a proxy!) and it was incredible, and everything about this week was better because of it.

I have a new bedside table.

This is how congruencing works. This should not be changing how I sleep and how I wake up and how I feel in general, but it is.

Wally! He’s back!

Wally is my brilliant physical therapist (shhh, code for massage, lalalala).

When he is not around, I am a sadface mouse. But he is back!

And he was able to do a lot of wonderful helping with the tight-painful-constricted emotional gunk I was going through.

July.

There are so many beautiful things about July. I am not going to list them all here, but I have been noticing them and appreciating them.

10 27 is now both a noun and a verb, and also great.

[Hmmm, silent retreat on 99% of this but I will say that I am experiencing extremely high levels of joyfulness related to it.]

Colleen.

My beloved Colleen – Communicatrix! — was in town and we had a looooong delight-filled breakfast and talked about hearts and minds and ideas.

I love her.

And I think I may have convinced her to run away with me this November for a private rallying of hearts and minds. It will be epic.

The (rarest!) superpower of Actually It’s Completely Perfect Like This.

This is the superpower I always want! And it was with me all week!

Missing the bus and being delighted about it, stuff like that.

Writing.

My writing mojo is BACK, and I wrote wrote wrote all week.

And processed things on the Floop! Which was amazing.

Thank you, words. I knew you were not gone forever.

A beautiful ritual, set into motion.

The secret Congruencing Coronation at the Royal Court! A new true secret something!

A thing I have wanted for years and years was finally initiated, activated, set into motion.

It happened with ease and grace and swiftness, exactly as requested. Everyone smiled at me. Everyone I encountered was warm and friendly. It only took a few minutes. There was no drama at all. It was smooth, beautiful, supportive. I rang all the bells! And ate a bell pepper!

All of Portal Land sparkled with me. And it is the birthday of the Steel Bridge, which is important to me, for a variety of reasons.

I could not be happier about this.

Fireworks were fine!

Usually (as you might know if you have been reading this for a few years) I flip out on the fourth of July. I have serious PTSD from all the explosions from then, and I don’t react well.

And somehow this year wasn’t the hellish nightmare that it usually is. I spent the day preparing for it, and I was weirdly fine.

For the first time ever since being in actual explosions happening in real-time, I was not falling apart. I was not even scared. The gap between my brain thinking that now is that moment at work, saturday night, the bomb shaking the street, diving and resurfacing behind the bar, watching Ofer open the door, registering that the cafe across the street is now gone and I think: these people on the ground are dead and … all the way to me-now realizing that no, this is just my lovely neighbors being celebratory and no one is in danger, well it’s much smaller.

Much.

This was new and also astonishing. I feel grateful to all the shiva nata I did this week that helped strengthen my force field and release old traumatic rules and experiences.

New superpowers.

Oho! This was also because of all the crazy shivanauttery. It was AMAZING. I don’t even know what to say about it other than that.

The difficult conversation was okay.

First of all, ALL THE SPARKLEPOINTS to me for even having it. I have deep avoidance of confrontation, triple especially for ones I need to start.

So all the points!

For doing it, not avoiding it, not putting it off, being with it, staying present, not crying, not getting distracted by distortions, staying connected to today’s superpower of [+independence], not letting the other person’s stuff become my stuff, not believing that hurtful things said about me are truth, and remembering that someone else’s pain filter does not need to be my filter. The things I feared most did not happen, we were able to come to a temporary agreement that I hope will lead to the thing I actually want, in good timing.

We both were able to remain calm and patient throughout, which was a really big deal.

I did not get the thing that I wanted, but I know more about how to navigate this now. And that is a really big deal.

I know what I want!

Finally.

What a great feeling.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band:

Medium Squeaky

Surprisingly, no harmonica.

Though they do make a fair amount of noise.

And, as it turns out? It’s actually just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat

Guess what? We finalized the dates for the 2013 Rallies! THIS IS ON.

There is ONE in February. And ONE in April. And that’s it for next year because I am the full-time director of Stompopolis (our new amazing space, which you will get to visit and play in at Rally in addition to hanging out at the original and super secret hidden Playground), and also because CONGRUENCE! It means I have to slow down.

These two rallies are going to be absolutely incredible. I already love them. Rally! Rally!

February (Rally #24!) is open to the public. The April Rally (Rally #25!) is Floop-only.

So if you want to Rally this year come in July or September. And if you want next year, grab February. Unless you’re at the Floop in which case April is an option too!

I know Rally prices were supposed to go up to full price this week but I felt like a jerk for not giving anyone warning, which yes, that’s my usual mode of operating, unintentionally, just because I forget and stuff sells out. But it still seems like it would be nice to actually let people know for once.

So. Giving a reprieve of a couple weeks. We’ll figure this out.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

The Fluent Self