Friday chickenWhere I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.

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

What worked?

Choosing not to do a fun-sounding thing.

The truth is, all signs pointed to don’t do this thing. But it took me a while to get there.

Then I didn’t do the thing and it was PERFECT that I did not do the thing.

This is exactly the kind of situation that would usually require a complicated internal debate before I could even get to the point of decision-making.

Running the fans.

Fans. Use the fans. The hypothalamus does not do its magic without the fans.

Moving a longstanding regular appointment to a new day.

This has to do with movement, paying attention, following intuitive tugs and pulls, and consciously stepping out of stagnation. All of which: hugely important right now.

Acting on this impulse felt tingly and good.

Writing dates with my playmate.

No talking. Just the reassuring clicking of keyboards in unison through the magic of speakerphone.

Tiny bits of sweetness for tomorrow-me.

I have been carefully undoing my shoelaces at night so that morning-me rushing off to dance doesn’t have to get all tangled up while getting into her shoes.

So she can skip merrily off to the bus with everything going smoothly. It’s taken forever to remember to do this, and now the new pattern: it is mostly landed.

Next time I might…

Take more time to recognize how hard it is when things change.

After three months of having one thing on my agenda (Hey Havi, let’s Resolve the Awful Crisis of Doom), I suddenly had to look at all the things that need doing.

Both the things that needed doing before the Disastrous Everything Is Breaking Worst Thing, and the things that have piled up in the meantime.

I thought it would feel good to get it all out of my head and onto paper, but what actually happened was that I felt unbearably lonely and overwhelmed.

Lots of pressure and dread. Pressure-dread. Because: iguanas!

Anyway, I think my push for Let’s Focus So We Can Do All The Things meant I didn’t give myself nearly enough time to grieve over how hard this is.

As always the answer was: all feelings are legitimate! And then: empty and replenish, empty and replenish. And (if you’re me) don’t work from home!

Avoid social media in all forms? LIKE THE PLAGUE?

Well, maybe not like that. But whenever I visited the river (my metaphor for going online) this week, I was not happy.

Maybe I need more conscious entry. Or maybe hormonal rage and social media should never mix. Or maybe time off will help. Experiments to follow.

Check the Book of Me in the morning.

I have notes in the book of Havi Bell about how going to get things done to my hair is a portal to a time warp that mysteriously eats up my entire day. Even if the appointment itself hardly takes any time, that day is toast. Always.

But I forget that and try to think logically about my day: I’ll have this much time and I can fit this many things in there.

It doesn’t work like that.

Hair day, for whatever reason, is a lost day. Like a zombie day (when you don’t get enough sleep the night before). Or maybe not lost. It is its own thing.

So next time I will experiment with an appointment later in the day. Or shaving my head again. That’s an option too. But mainly: reminding myself that this is not a day for doing, thinking or crossing anything off of a list.

The hard.

  • Not wanting to yog.
  • Hormonal doom of doom.
  • TOO MANY THINGS.
  • Panicky overwhelm and overwhelming panic related to the above three items.
  • People being inexplicably mad at me. Or maybe the explanations were right there. It was all very baffling to me.
  • Someone I love sounding pretty much exactly like that one group of my monsters.
  • Toozday was supposed to be a day of doing but then it turned into exactly the opposite of that.
  • Wanting to do absolutely nothing.
  • Except blow shit up. To destroy things and watch them crash and burn.
  • Oh, still with the drama. More people drama-ing new drama.
  • Barns still burning. Each time I think I’m okay with this barn, I have to learn to let go of the next one, it seems.
  • Wanting the vacation so badly I can taste it, and it’s all I think about and I have a window of possibility but too far away and too many variables and not sure how it can happen when I need it to. Or before I need it to, if it comes to that.
  • Let’s expand on hormonal doom of doom. Sore. Miserable. Looking like a rabid cranky Jessica Rabbit. Rage and terror. I’ve been working on these side-effects for years and usually the things I do work, but either I haven’t been doing enough of the things that work or [let’s not think about “or” right now].
  • Everything grating on me, all nerves raw.
  • After my amazing day of making all the progresses on Wednesday, I was looking forward to yoga/dinner/celebrating, but instead got in a huge business-related fight. And then spent several more hours working to fix the problem. I was so looking forward to basking, feeling proud and motivated. Instead it crumpled.
  • PTSD dreams and waking up in terror.

The good.

  • Remembering the emergency calm and using the hell out of those techniques. Also practicing everything we did at Crossing the Line. Works.
  • Long-distance writing date with my playmate. For some reason we haven’t ever done this before, and it was exactly the just-right thing. Steady, calming, motivating and sweet. Both of us typing away from afar.
  • Being so excited to tell you guys how crazy-impossibly well the previous week’s Very Personal Ads worked that I wrote this week’s early. That has NEVER happened, in one hundred and seventy eight weeks of doing this. That was cool.
  • Quiet.
  • Pausing (paws!) and more pausing.
  • The conducting vault.
  • Walking in the garden.
  • The argument getting resolved because: compassionate communication.
  • Fake Beach Day with Marisa! And eating sabich. The best.
  • The color gold.
  • Ten beautiful breaths.
  • Knowing what I want and being (astonishingly) okay with that.
  • Getting what felt like ALL THE THINGS done on Wednesday in a giant day of doing. I got more done on Wednesday than I have all year.
  • Playing on the Floop and solving things, sparked by other people’s epiphanies.
  • A wonderful person from the Floop has named my (ours, actually, all of us, since you will be following along in some form or another even if just through reading about it here) upcoming Year of Emptying And Replenishing by abbreviating it to YEAR. I love this.
  • Abbreviations, in general! And secret spy words. Also everyone at the Frolicsome Bar (that’s our facebook thing) helped me with that too.
  • Writing the Secret Rose Missive to Alon.
  • Possible glimmer of a spark of a maybe-vacation.
  • The following sentence: “Not a doubt in my mind that you can totally handle this like the sexiest lion tamer in the world.” <3

Also I have thank-yous! Thank you, Kate (and Andy) for the book. Anna, for the other book. Richard, for yet another book. Darcy, for the wonderful letter that made me cry. Andrea, for the perfect surprise gift. And Lissa, for the beautiful reminder. Thank you.

Superpowers!

A superpower I had this week…

The superpower of all the walls coming down!

Thanks, Wally. And thanks also to the actual wall. It literally came down while the internal ones were falling apart.

And also the superpower of steadiness. And drinking whiskey while the barns burn.

And a superpower I want next week.

More steadiness please. And vitality.

Also the superpower of not caring how.

From the archives.

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

Background. Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once invented hanging out at the Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is melancholy and sweet and their hair is always getting in their eyes. They’re called:

Girl Or Almost.

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Points to Nick for the name.

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

Alright. The pre-sale for the regular sale for the Year of Emptying & Replenishing (password: compass) ends Friday, December 7, which is TONIGHT.

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