Friday chicken

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

Hello, Friday: we are here.

{a breath for being here when we get here}

Thank you, week!

This is the 387th week in a row we are chickening here together….

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

What worked this week?

Asking what worked.

Each day before bed I made a little list of “today I learned” or “good surprises”, which helped me realize that actually a lot of things are working. And while I may not pause long enough to notice them, they’re happening.

This also helped me notice the beautiful sweet miracles that somehow get lost in the day, even the extremely unlikely ones, like the tailor who was able to fix my torn favorite pants in five minutes, right before the holiday and didn’t charge me. Thank you, treasure. Would you like to read part of the list?

  • Clearing up the house while thinking about this as “removing static” from the radio station of my life.
  • Having a terrific backstory (wildly untrue and invented in the spur of the moment) that explained my motivation for one of my current projects.
  • Asking wise me what to do.
  • Doing exactly what she said. Replenishing Glass of Water, Get On The Floor, Eight Steady Breaths. Did the trick and I suddenly knew what my next step was.
  • Translating all incoming christmas wishes to mean “I wanted to connect with you and I am thinking about you!”, and saying, “Thank you! Festive wondrous everything to you too!”

Next time I might…

Ask wise me first.

Really, she knows what’s good.

Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…

Let’s Just Burn It All Down, Metaphorically That Is.

If you feel drawn to comment 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 always welcome

8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. Twenty four consecutive days of rain, record-breaking amounts of rain, to the point that portlanders, aka people who generally like rain, are all starting to lose their minds. I had the advantage of having spent twelve of those days in the sun on operation ruby jewel, so I wasn’t around for the flooding, but yes, the cold and wet are getting old. A breath for warmth.
  2. So many things this week did not as expected, which wasn’t bad, it actually all turned out beautifully, I am just noticing that even at my most steady and full of trust in All-Is-Well, all the internal and external reconfiguring that are asked for when things go differently than anticipated, well, these can sometimes be energy intensive. A breath for the superpower of graceful adaptability.
  3. Transitions and in-betweens. Still no idea about what is next. A breath for safe passage and beautiful trust.
  4. The man who stopped me on the street and cut off my exit, the man standing in the middle of the street holding a giant stick in both hands and appearing unstable and angry, the men at dance whose hands linger too long, all the moments where men feel comfortable doing things that are uncomfortable, and are either mysteriously unaware of the immense discomfort they leave in their wake, or just do not care. Oh, and then I made the mistake of reading online about street harassment, which made things worse and not better. A breath for these not-fun experiences that are part of (my) every day reality as a woman, a breath for the near-constant fury I feel about both this situation and the general lack of acknowledgment that this is the situation, and a breath for change.
  5. My beautiful tree is gone and I am getting ready to leave my home and everything ends, and it is a lot at once. A breath for safe passage.
  6. The worst house-guests ever, who, in addition to all the things that put them on the top of that list, also inexplicably went out without their key and then pounded on the door at midnight until I got out of bed. Also, I was not particularly gracious about this, which I felt bad about in the morning. Either way though, I am done with ever having guests again, unless it is someone that I absolutely cherish. A breath for being done.
  7. Wanting to dismantle everything and not knowing where to start, and having the sense that 70% of my life is static. A breath for using the ground, like in dance, and for trust in right timing.
  8. Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. Trust-more love-more release-more receive-more. Goodbye (and thank you), mysteries and hard moments of this week.

8 breaths for the good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. The incredible miracle that no one was hurt and no property was damaged when my giant maple tree pitched into the street during the wind storm. All the related miracles. A breath of deep thankfulness.
  2. Operation MONTAGE (my latest secret op, it’s dance-related but goes far beyond that) is the most transformative project I have ever undertaken, and I am finding it absolutely fascinating to observe what happens as I am in it. A breath for commitment to what I want, combined with warm loving presence and the willingness to change it up as needed.
  3. Doing my time with the void last week was powerful stuff, and this week I am out of my funk and feeling at ease with my life, even though yes, there is still no plan, and I’m exiting my home in a month. A breath for presence and self-treasuring.
  4. Speaking of self-treasuring, endless new intel about that, including the realization during X Marks The Spot that there is no need to search for the treasure, because I am the treasure. The only thing I need to do is treasure myself, that’s it. I also noticed that during the street harassment incidents, I felt annoyed but I wasn’t triggered. That’s pretty amazing, and I attribute that to the deep work that’s been happening during this mission of treasuring. A breath for getting to know what it’s like to be someone who knows (and remembers) how to treasure themselves.
  5. And speaking of epiphanies, week’s dance epiphany, combined with Operation Montage, has set off cascading dominoes of chain-reaction epiphanies. There are so many things my teachers say all the time — roll your feet, use the ground, spot your turns, keep your hand steady — and they all make sense, and sometimes I can apply them and sometimes I can’t, but this week suddenly I GOT IT in an entirely new way. As if my body finally understood on an entirely different level what these things mean. Suddenly all of these things are happening at once, and without effort. A breath of big big joy.
  6. Feeling positive and glowy about things, with absolutely no reason. A breath for this.
  7. Treasure in my life in the form of X Marks The Spot, sharing x-mess long-distance with a secret agent in Australia, waltz brunch, getting much better at cha cha and no longer being terrible at hustle, encouraging teachers, my wonderful housemate, the best hot water bottle, my luscious new sweater-coat. A hand-on-heart breath of wonder for the good in my life.
  8. Thankfulness. Everything is okay and so much is good. Nothing is wrong, even when I want to believe it is. Now is not then. All Timing Is Right Timing. Thank you for this grand adventure. A full breath of deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.

Sparklepoints, superpowers, salve, fake band of the week!

Current ops and forward movement!

I received the decision this week to postpone Operation Shed Shed Shed and replace it with The Studio op. Interestingly I have still been shedding (that double meaning will never get old) via Operation Remove Static. Project MONTAGE and the 999 Mission are full speed ahead. Panther Time is good. Have a brand new plan for the Fountaining op. Sweet Honey is still on the back burner, and that feels okay. Thank you, fractal flowers.

I now bestow upon myself a quintillion sparklepoints, like a Fairground Stripper, and you are welcome to do the same for you.

Or if you don’t do numbers (even fake ones), an endless cascading fountaining abundance of sparklepoints

Superpowers I had this week…

Last week I asked for Wildly Glamorous Even In Sweatpants and Striding Towards My Yes, not expecting to get either of them because the former seemed impossible and the latter just scary, but actually both of these landed for me this week. The trick to the first was a combination of waking up with fantastic hair, and the aforementioned luscious new winter cloak. But then it just stuck around all week.

Powers I want.

The power of taking exquisite care of myself, the power of Standing Tall, the power of being (and feeling) powerful, fierce, graceful and beautifully embodied, panther-like. And of course remembering my invisible panther entourage who were instantly around me when the man in the street with the big stick was exhibiting erratic behavior. That feeling of “you really don’t want to mess with me”. I want that.

The Salve of Striding Towards My Yes.

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.

This salve comes just in time for the usual new year’s bullshit that proliferates on the internet, when the finger-wagging “experts” deliver boring statistics about how many people “fail” to fulfill their resolutions, and how you should supposedly avoid being one of those people.

THINK ABOUT IT FOR A SECOND. You of a year from now is an entirely different person than you of right now, it would be completely absurd and unfair to hold that person, that amazing person that you haven’t met yet, to promises made now, and even more so to blame them if they ended up going a different path because their yes was a new yes.

We can’t know what their yes is. We can only know, if we get quiet and really listen, what right-now yes is.

So really there is no greater gift to future you than releasing/absolving any “resolutions” to do certain things and be a certain way, otherwise we’re just setting ourselves up to feel guilty for not following through on something that may not even be relevant anymore to our yes of the moment.

We can seed wishes, intentions, set off in a direction that appeals, but nothing is more important than making it clear to our future selves that of course we support their mission, whatever it might turn out to be.

When we commit, lovingly and warmly, to following the yes trails where they lead, this subverts all the unsovereignty and guilt that generally gets built in to this yearly cultural ritual, and we are able to let incoming-us be free to be who they are and want what they want, in the way that they want it.

If you’re wondering how we do that,
when the game is so rigged, and external culture is so loud and so guilt-driven, well, that’s why we have the salve.

When I rub this salve into my skin, I remember to turn inward instead of outward, to hear my yes instead of cultural expectations.

This salve rearranges things at the cellular level. It gets me breathing more steadily. It helps me trust that as long as I am true to my yes, staying present with it in the moment and allowing it to move and change as it wishes, I am doing great.

This is a secret self-treasuring salve and it is made of permission, power, self-knowledge, presence and exquisite streaming colored lights.

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:

Write A Resistance

Their latest album is After The Juice, and actually this band is just one guy.

Photo taken just for us in Lubbock, TX by Jesse — thank you!

ANNOUNCEMENT!

The gorgeous and extremely magical 2016 calendars are ready — The Year Of Doors! — and I believe there are a few left. You can find yours here. The password: sweetdoors

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 lovingly refrain from giving advice.

And of course it’s always okay to comment under a made-up name, whether for play and delight, or in the interest of Safety First.

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!

The Fluent Self