Friday chicken

Reflecting on both the hard and the good parts in the week that was…

It is Friday and we are here.

{a breath for being here when we get here.}

Thank you, week.

This is the 368th week in a row that we are chickening here together.

Or “checking in”, if you prefer to enunciate.

What worked this week?

Following Elgin’s rule.

I really wanted to go to a lecture on a subject that fascinates me.

Except I also didn’t, because sitting for two hours is unappealing (understatement!), and I never enjoy the awkward energy dynamic of being talked at in an auditorium — a friend of mine used to call this the Blanketing Effect, and that’s pretty much how it feels for me. And really, I wanted to be doing the thing the lecture was about instead of contemplating it.

But also I was having such intense joy sparks about the topic, and feeling a pull to go and be around people who also feel this, and hoping this excitement combined with Useful Intel from the lecture would launch me into the doing.

I was heading towards a compromise of going for half, or staying until I received a useful insight, and then taking that spark home to figure out my next step.

Then I remembered what Suzette Elgin says about lectures, that they should never go over twenty minutes. And my body felt this deep sigh of YES.

It was a beautiful moment of relief and full-body releasing (which is funny, because the latter was also basically the topic of the lecture) at having that simple truth acknowledged: my body doesn’t want to sit for more than twenty minutes.

So, Elgin’s rule of thumb ended up being a good parallel to my PROTOCOL of “when in doubt, apply urgent self-care”, and I didn’t have the protocol in mind because I wasn’t reading this situation as a moment of doubt. But then my body felt so relieved and happy when I said no to sitting.

Hand-on-heart sigh of love for my body! And smiling, because last week I asked to remember that I am the world expert in Decision-Receiving when it comes to taking care of Havi.

Next time I might…

Do the most grounding thing I can think of.

Yesterday morning my lover texted me and asked how I’m doing, and I said I didn’t know.

He asked if that meant I’m in my head and not grounded, if I’m going to do any body stuff to help. Because he knows this very basic thing about me that I know too, but I forget.

Getting on the floor, breathing, stretching, naming things as a way to counter loss, touching in: I am here.

And the title of my upcoming Biopic if it were based on this week…

Everything Changes. The Havi Brooks Story.

If you feel drawn to leave comments on aspects of my week, I will take love, hearts, breaths, pebbles, I do not need advice or cheering up, though presence and sweetness are appreciated. Hearts or pebbles are great if you don’t know what to say, often I don’t know what to say either so we’re in the same boat.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. There is a sign in my kitchen. It says All Things Change. Sometimes I find this enormously reassuring, and sometimes I find it downright terrifying. This was a week of really living the truth of this sentence, in all the beauty of it but also the pain of it, and oh it hurt in my heart. A breath for All Things Change.
  2. I received a piece of news on Monday that I couldn’t possibly have anticipated, and this means Operation Bolthole (the main focus of my life for the past several months) can’t actually happen after all. I need to regroup and reconfigure while the foundation crumbles, find my new foundation. And I need an alternative escape plan, and soon. A breath for the thoroughly unexpected, and for trust. May the treasure in this reveal itself soon.
  3. On the same day, I received more news, foundational news, in a similar vein, except from my lover. Two pieces of news, actually. As if it wasn’t bad enough that the foundation was crumbling, then to have the rug pulled out from under me, twice in a row, immediately after. It wasn’t intentional. My lover is kind, thoughtful, endlessly sweet and loving. And that didn’t change the fact that I was blindsided, shellshocked, completely taken apart. Not even so much by the news itself or the possible changes, but by the fact that I wasn’t included in them. A breath for things that fall apart, and the unexpected ways they fall apart, and for sobbing in my lover’s arms. May I find my way back to my yes.
  4. I went to a new hip hop class because I had to give my brain and body something to do other than react to all these changes. It was a million degrees (approximately), and the studio was hot and tiny and cramped, the electric fans so loud that I couldn’t hear the instructions. Eventually I just sat down. Waiting for the bus home, I felt disjointed and disoriented, as if I could pass out at any moment. It felt so familiar, this awful sensation of uprooted, ungrounded, exhausted and unprotected, and I remembered that once upon a time this used to be my baseline. A breath for me, and for these moments.
  5. All my projects and secret ops stalled this week, what with the various crumblings. I didn’t dance and I didn’t write. I’m not even entirely sure what happened this week. I think it involved a lot of staring into space, completely bewildered. And yet I’m pretty sure that this was the best thing for me, the best way to take care of myself, and not get overloaded. A breath for deep trust in All Timing Is Right Timing, here in the month of Trust, in the year of Easing & Releasing.
  6. [Silent Retreat] A breath for compassionate witnessing of all the things that have not found their way into words yet.
  7. Okay, and maybe another breath for that.
  8. Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. Goodbye (and thank you), mysteries and hard moments of this week. May I choose to trust-more love-more release-more receive-more.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. My lover returned after being deep in the mountains with no cell service for a week. Sweetness sweetness sweetness sweetness. And joy. I fell asleep in his arms and woke up in his arms, and we were in this breathtakingly beautiful state of intense, vulnerable, fully embodied animal-spiritual aliveness and connection, and I cried because I was overcome with the depth of this. What a healing thing it is to cry with someone who can handle it. That isn’t the right word. Handle implies reacting in some way or making an adjustment. He doesn’t handle. He just is. He didn’t say ohmygod-what’s-wrong-are-you-okay. He didn’t even send that as energy. He just held me the tiniest bit tighter, and exuded that calm, gentle, steady presence, accepting me in my small storm of emotion, not needing anything from me. I was able to just release because I didn’t need to do anything, reassure or explain. It was so special, to sink in this moment, as if we were each giving each other a gift by the act of not giving anything. I cried until I was done, and then he kissed my cheek and smiled, and it was so easy to have just fallen apart, and so easy to be fine. I want my whole life to hold the qualities of THIS. A breath for remembering this always.
  2. Two days later, when I was floored by his first piece of news and completely in shock, not able to remember that Now Is Not Then, he came over to comfort me. We cried and slept and cried some more, and it was hard, and yet, it is such treasure, it really is, to have someone with whom I can be that terrifyingly vulnerable and open. And it is treasure for me to experience/remember that I also know how to be the steady rock, the glowing jewel of sanctuary, when someone I love is going through their own storms. I was able to Not Make Shit About Me, and to be present and loving with someone who needed me. A breath for all forms of love and sweetness and steadiness in hard times.
  3. The next night, when I lost my ground again, he came and made me tea and tucked me into bed and kissed me better. A breath for this.
  4. Oh, I have so many allies and resources I have for getting my ground/foundation back or figuring out a new one. My wise hypnotist. Wally, who does feldenkrais magic with my body and is helping me train to be a panther. The self-fluency tools I have, and the techniques I’ve developed and practiced over the past ten years. My wonderful housemate. My friends. This community, and knowing that you are here, reading, and no matter what my week is like, I can come here and share it with you. A breath of thank you.
  5. I was met by so much kindness this week. And I was able to access a deep well of [self-mothering nurturing] that I didn’t know existed for me. And, semi-related to this: I discovered that something I always thought I would hate is actually something I’d be really good at. That doesn’t mean it’s my yes, but it is interesting to have gravitated to a new position. A breath for newness.
  6. Taking lovely care of my body, and listening to it, honoring its needs and desires, even when that meant a lot of just being on the floor and crying. A breath for how wildly subversive it can be just to care for ourselves.
  7. You know what. I am handling this SO MUCH better than I have all the other big upheavals in my life, thank you past few years of One Barn Burning After Another. I am so much better at weathering storms now, at trusting my instincts, at knowing that there is treasure in everything, and at letting things go. And I didn’t shut down and go into turtle mode, so: points for that. A breath for the completely transformative practice of acknowledgment, legitimacy and radical sweetness, with all the remarkable surprises it is bringing. A breath of gratitude.
  8. Thankfulness. So much is good. My housemate makes the best nachos. I did TRE three times and it is helping. Everything is okay. Nothing is wrong, even when I think it is. Now is not then. All Timing Is Right Timing. Thankful for this grand adventure. A full breath of deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.

Wham booms, wisdom, superpowers, salve and FBOTW!

Operations completed. Wham boom!

Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom is secret agent code meaning: this thing is done! Shortened to wham-boom.

Operation Proxy-Proxied was a success! Operation Banana-Shoe Chicken-Chicken was a success! Operation Trust Release Ease is going really well. Operations Alternative Shed and Calm Island are replacing the Bolthole op. Decisions were received. The anchor is weighed and the sails they are set. Calling this good, I now award myself a hundred billion sparklepoints. Wham Boom.

Superpowers I had this week…

I had the superpower of remembering the glowing jewel in my heart, and knowing that Sanctuary is in me and not outside of me. May I have this superpower always.

I also had the power of Crossing The Street.

Powers I want.

Same as last week, please: the superpowers of Beautifully Anchored, Deeply Trusting, and, of course, I am a Powerful Slinky Very Relaxed Panther

The Salve of Sanctuary Within.

These invisible salves are distributed here by way of internet magic. Help yourself! Take it in a bath, as tea, a cocktail, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.

Many years ago, Orna, my teacher in Tel Aviv, said something about how I will never feel at home anywhere until I feel at home in myself. She didn’t actually say it to me, or about me, but her words reverberated in me and it felt as if she were looking right at me, directly into my lost and battered heart.

The idea of feeling at home in myself was so completely foreign to me that I couldn’t even imagine what that could be like.

This salve resolves that, swiftly and gently, and it brings so much calm and sweet stillness. It has all the haven superpowers of comforting shelters, blanket forts, nooks, safe passage.

Come in, put down your rucksack, curl up in a corner with your favorite blanket. You’ve arrived. And it’s only going to get better.

This is a salve of Grounding, Ease, Sovereignty, Security, Glowing and Serenity.

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

My brother and I make up bands, which are all just one guy. The Meme Beach House is the venue.

just-one-guy

This week’s band is from a useful typo in my wishes and it’s called Articles of Light. Their latest album is Your Favorite Climb. And it’s actually just one guy.

And the photo was taken in Lubbock, TX by Jesse! Thank you!

How was your week?

Come play in the comments. Share something from your week, take a breath, or just say hi! No rules, my format doesn’t have to be yours, we’ve been doing this every week for years now and there still isn’t a right way.

Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We don’t give advice.

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

Shabbat shalom.

It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — jump in whenever you like. Blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers too!

p.s. If you want to express appreciation and/or go deeper into Self-Fluency…

Come practice Agency and be a secret agent (ha, agency pun!) of self-fluency, and support this blog and Shmita.

  • The marvelous Monster Manual gives you the sneaky ways I use to get my self-criticism to take a nap or join the circus or become my ally, so I can stay calm and take care of myself.
  • If you’d just like to express appreciation for concepts and qualities that live here, you can always contribute to Barrington’s Discretionary. (Explanation!)
  • And of course, love and support in the form of smiles, hearts, warmth, sharing posts, practicing what we do here: any and all of that is always appreciated!

A deep breath of love from my thank-you heart for everyone who reads. ❦

The Fluent Self