It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday, for this space, for being here when we get here.}
Next week is SEVEN YEARS of consecutive Chickens. I am genuinely astonished.
What worked this week?
Eight breaths of safety.
This week was hard for me in so many different ways.
Each time I remembered to take eight breaths, I felt better. Breathing around my body, breathing the compass directions. Inhaling safety, dissolving in safety. Exhaling safety, glowing safety.
Sometimes the first few breaths don’t really seem to do anything, but by the time I complete the circle, I feel better.
This week required doing this on repeat, then forgetting and falling apart, then doing it again. It helped.
Noticing.
The hard things of this week were…sequential? Cyclical?
It wasn’t like this: Okay, here is this hard thing and here is this other hard thing, and here’s how they might be connected.
It was more like a chain:
Awful thing A triggered hard thing B, which launched challenging C, which resulted in uncomfortable D, leading me to miserable E.
So that wasn’t fun, but noticing this was actually really helpful.
It helped me (and my monsters) recognize why self-care is so important.
In fact, my monsters changed their tune pretty fast from “Ugh you’re a big baby who needs to grow up and be able to handle a couple hours of fireworks” to “If you had just avoided the trauma of being near explosions and taken better care of yourself, none of these other bad things would have happened!”
Anyway, that was really useful to notice. Everything leads to something else. Lots of places to interrupt the pattern, and also I am going to remember that avoiding known triggers is a deep act of love.
Next time I might…
Turn inward.
I craved connection so much this week, because I was in so much trauma.
And I looked for it in the least helpful places, facebook and twitter.
Next time I would like to turn inward, and connect with myself. I can ask Incoming Me or Slightly Future Me or Slightly Wiser me to keep me company or share encouragement. We can journal together or color monsters together. I can ask them questions. They can tell me comforting things.
I would like to stay offline and not go looking for substitute connection which of course just results in separation and distance.
And the title of my upcoming Biopic if it were based on this week…
Oh right, of course, these are Moontime Tears. The Havi Brooks Story.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- I thought I could handle the Fourth of July explosions, and I did really great for the first couple hours, but they lasted until one in the morning, and I gradually lost the ability to experience it as anything other than an assault on my home and senses, to know that it wasn’t a war zone raging outside, to believe that I wasn’t about to die, even though I could hear stupid boys proclaiming drunken everlasting dudebro love to each other outside. I was still reliving the terrorist attack and the aftermath over and over. I hid in bed and my breath scared me and I couldn’t feel my body anymore. A breath for remembering that I am safe, that now is not then
- The next day, it was like I didn’t have skin anymore. Everything was just so unbelievably raw. Like, just being alive was raw and exposed. My ears were ringing, and kept ringing for days. All sounds were intensely amplified, and noises that I normally find medium-annoying were agonizing torture. I thought everyone on the street wanted to attack me, and I took complicated detours to avoid any interaction. It was so much like then that I almost believed it was Then. A breath for me, who is so very lost without her force field.
- Because of the rawness, I couldn’t do any of the things that would normally be healing or grounding for me. I tried to go work out but the music was suddenly so loud that even hiding in the back with ear plugs was unbearable. I couldn’t take a bath because my skin hurt. I couldn’t go dancing because the thought of being around people made me want to cry. Chronic fatigue, pain, anxiety and fear. A breath for this state of perceived helplessness, and forgetting how to take care of myself.
- Because I couldn’t do things to take care of myself, I lost my ability to feel and trust my instincts, to tell the difference between real and perceived threat, to recognize the best move. A breath for remembering that I am safe and loved and held in grace.
- Because of not knowing where I was, I couldn’t remember that now is not then. So when my lover decided to sell the truck and camper (an excellent decision, which I fully support), I got completely triggered clearing out my stuff and giving up my keys. I thought I was homeless again. Even though I literally own a house. I couldn’t remember anything that is true. A breath for truth, because truth just is, even when I forget about it.
- Because I had lost my connection to myself and to my sense of being at home in the world, I turned towards outside instead of inside for connection. I lived on Twitter. I shared every thought with no filter. I absorbed the pain of the internet. Having lost my boundaries and force field, I lost my ability to hear my steady and true yes or no, so I clicked on links I normally wouldn’t have, and learned just how many people I know apparently want to defend Bill Cosby, and oh how I let myself be dragged into entire worlds that I do not need to spend time in. I reacted to things not worth reacting to. I let everything about this exhausting internet world of click-baiting think-pieces get under my skin, the skin that wasn’t there. I vented in the wrong places. I even forgot the golden rule of Yes Do Not Click On These Things Ever But For The Love Of God Especially Not The Day Before Your Period Because It Is Not Worth It. A breath for remembering: none of this is real. Love is real. Let’s remember our way back to love, sweet girl.
- Thanks to the above, every possible miscommunication and misunderstanding ensued. A breath of love, to dissolve the misunderstandings, and a breath of safety for everyone who needs safety
- 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.
- The heat broke, and everything got better. Being able to go for a walk in the park at 7:30pm and jump in the fountain instead of having to apply ice packs: heaven. Cool air. Deep sleep. Even at my most PTSD-ed, I am a much more functional person when it’s not 99 degrees Fahrenheit. A breath for this sweet respite, and for going to sleep without a hundred fans.
- My beautiful lover came back from Utah and drove a million miles to get to me, after sixteen long days apart, and my heart filled with joy. Three sweet and steamy beautiful nights of holding each other and smiling and breathing together. A breath for this feeling.
- So much tenderness, so much deep vulnerable sweetness. I didn’t even know I could be this raw and uncovered with someone. And when I panic at night and he is asleep, he rubs my hand with his thumb as if even asleep he just radiates comfort. A breath for being unselfconsciously present with another human being in this way which I didn’t know how to do before like this.
- The plus of not being able to do anything because of ptsd was that I just took care of myself and rested. Remember last week and the salve of Self-Care Is My Extreme Sport? It was. I basically just slept through this week and stared into space a lot and made very simple food and cried when I needed to cry. This too is part of Shmita. And taking too much in and being raw and hurting led me to a new commitment to Reducing Input In All Forms. A breath for taking care of myself.
- I was able to remember that Shit Is Not About Me, and that when there are misunderstandings with people I love, it’s just two beautiful people in their stuff, each with our personalized misperceptions that make total sense because of our unique and sometimes matching pain filters. A breath for may all misunderstandings dissolve in love. I trusted the process, and didn’t do that thing where I try to sort it out, and I reminded myself that all these misunderstandings can heal themselves under the surface. And another breath for love, because it really is all love.
- So many good surprises coming out of all the releasing I’ve been doing. Two big things I have secretly wished for but not allowed myself to know that I was wishing because I never thought would happen came true this week, completely out of the blue. I am convinced that this is not unrelated to the twenty boxes I released from my basement, and all the pain that was in those boxes. A breath of love for the healing superpowers of fractal flowers.
- I had the most wonderful realization that is hard to explain, so I will just say that I understood that everything I thought was not good about this week was actually just right, and is leading me to all the right things. So I was able to feel thankfulness even as I was in this raw, exposed state of pain. A breath for appreciating the threads that go into the tapestry.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. Eating sabich at Wolf & Bear. Watching Chef’s Table with Richard. The other side of the penny of [having no filter and being completely raw] is the superpower of IDGAF x1000, and while I’m very much looking forward to not saying everything I think the second I think it, there is also something very powerful hidden in there. Lira sent a hug and then I found it when I needed it. Agent Annabelle kept me on track. My lover really and truly doesn’t mind that sometimes I just cry all the time. 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!
I sorted through more boxes. I made a secret document for Operation Subterranean. I did laundry. I went back to bed. We can call that a successful mission, and I now award myself a hundred billion sparklepoints. Wham Boom.
Superpowers I had this week…
I had the superpowers of Staying Hydrated, Telling the Truth, and recognizing Good Surprises.
Powers I want.
I want all the superpowers of Seeing Beauty Everywhere At All Times, including in me.
The Salve of Love Is A Badass Way To Live.
July is the month of Love, according to the Fluent Self calendar this year, and this is the superpower of that month, and I need this more than anything in the entire world.
When I put on this salve, all the distortions and false separations melt away. I remember that everyone has pain, just like me, and everyone has preferences just like me, and no one wants to be misunderstood or disbelieved or falsely accused or left behind, or whatever our deepest fears might be.
I remember that there is love inside of the boxes in my basement.
And even though it is hard for me to be someone who is rubbed raw by sound and memory, I have so much love for me who went through the hard things, and future-me has so much love for me-now, and there is enough of this love.
Who is it who said, there is enough love in you to heal the whole world with one breath, so turn all that power inward and breathe it just for you, and then trust that this will do the healing work.
Something like that, but said so much better. This salve is like knowing that, in your body, and living it and trusting it. May it be so. Because that, my darlings, is a badass way to live.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band has to do with my giant epiphany and it’s called Everything Is A Sham. Their latest album is No Really What If Everything Is A Sham. They play polka-funk hula music and it’s actually just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I am recommending the Emergency Get Calm, Quiet And Steady techniques, aka the thing that keeps me from falling apart. This is how I get through weeks like this one.
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.
p.s. 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!
Follow
The good:
– it’s felt like a really good week just generally
– coffee ice cream
– teenagers hanging around in the park – not being horrible but blowing bubbles.
– sorted out some things that really needed sorting out
– catching up with K and meeting the baby
– K really likes the quilt I made, and when she tagged me in the photo on Facebook my sister-in-law popped up to say that my niece is still using the one I made for her, four years ago.
The hard:
– wanting a thing. Not being able to have the thing because of perfectly good reasons that have nothing to do with me, and then thinking that not being able to have it means that I don’t deserve it.
– yet another cup of identity crisis tea
– monsters all over the shop
– other people’s hard
– my favourite blue dress has worn under the arm to the point where it’s unwearable. If I fix it, will it still be my favourite dress?
What worked:
– oh wow letting myself want something makes it much easier to come to terms with the idea that it’s not going to happen. Who knew?
– walking. Particularly walking to the station, past all the roses.
Next time I might try:
– being E.
Love is a badass way to live! That feels absolutely profoundly true and amazingly important.
Hellllllllllllllooooooooooo Friday!
What worked? Delivering the check in person. Asking questions.
Next time? More soupcons of sovereignty, and sooner.
Hard, icky, frustrating:
* sexism, omgwtfbbq
* snottiness, omgwthffs
* that the agent hasn’t sent the scans, and that I’m not surprised that she hasn’t sent the scans.
* same with the architect not yet getting back in touch.
* zit on my nose so large it hurt to use my camera. good grief.
* and of course the acne flareup is right before i’m about to see friends and family i haven’t seen in years
* this not-sleeping cycle
* dead bird floating in the bamboo planter
* mosquitoes and fruit flies. sweet j on a smoking coil.
* sort-of malfunctioning CD burner. more to the point, wasting time on the CDs in question even though they were not urgent. cue the monster moshing.
Good, reassuring, etc.
* I am an excellent team player
* and a scheduling ninja
* and not shabby as editing, either
* and my boss believes in work-life balance
* and I’m not trying to rescue the Greek economy. I remind myself of this at least twice a day.
* the sausage-squash-panko casserole turned out as I’d hoped
* the bottle of Pisco I bought months ago simply because it was beautiful is providing medicinal assistance this week
* vintage French textbooks, too
* enjoying the sunshinyness and portability of my tablet
* even with zits and paunch and flab, I am loved
* delightful postcard from Rae
With warm and bestest wishes to all y’all. Shabbat shalom.
Big love to you, Havi, and to everyone else. *heartsigh* all the way.
~So so many breaths for being rubbed raw.
~Also many breaths for not-good things being actually just-right.
(Also hell yeah! IDNGAF x 1000.
Telling the Truth = the best superpower ever!)
My week:
Worked: Smiling. Legitimacy. Giving SUPER MEGA TOP this-is-the-only-thing-that-actually-matters PRIORITY to Operation X-ist and dropping everything else.
Next time I might: Smile more. Stay offline. Go to sleep earlier. Don’t have icecream.
the hard:
OK so the hard is being ridiculously hard. I can’t even. {silent retreat} on the hard.
the good:
+ biking for hours and hours along the river
+ time with my brother
+ the freedom that is not having/wanting kids/husband!
+ spending hours at a completely delicious art exhibition
+ actually having resources to deal with *the hard I went silent retreat on*
+ the issue of “is it dangerous for me to meditate when I am dealing with *silent retreat*?” is resolved (it had the perfect simple solution of SMILING, of all things) and I can meditate again!
Thank you and goodbye, week!
PS: Woo hoo for 7 years of chicken!!!
Seven years! Wowyay!!
Oh this week.
The Hard:
– I’ve lost my internal compass. Or, I should really say it’s out for repairs. I’ve almost always in my life known exactly what to do if I let myself (both let myself know it and let myself do it), but the data I got was related to but not entirely guidance/knowing/intuition. It was tinted by and wrapped up in my stuff. Now I have no data or no way of interpreting data as I wait for the system to be upgraded. I don’t know how long it’ll be – that would require data and/or the ability to interpret it. So it’s very uncomfortable. And questions like “skip class today because I’m sick and miserable?” or “drop this class entirely because it makes me want to stab myself, even if I would get an incomplete and lose scholarship monies?” or “do I sign up for the workshop or not?” Feel basically unanswerable. I’ve been making many guesses. They might be all wrong – I am feeling sick and miserable. But sick and miserable may be independent of life management situations. Couldn’t say.
– Let’s see: first I was too exhausted to wake up or get out of bed several days. Headache and throat ache: ongoing throughout the week. Then I had a bad day emotionally and self-harmed, which screwed up my neck so badly I can’t turn my head or really move at all without incredible pain. So I’ve spent a good portion of this week crying. And the rest forcing myself to keep going, which isn’t particularly fun.
– Seriously, one of my classes is just so incredibly awful. For me personally. For reasons I don’t really understand. I almost can’t handle it, and I only went once this week.
– I *hate* not being able to move my neck. It makes getting the bus, crossing the street, and changing lanes while driving *particularly* difficult. And it’s somehow really embarrassing for me. Don’t let anyone know you can’t move your neck! Then they’ll… Know you can’t move your neck? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a “don’t show weakness on the bus” pattern.
– Several times this week I’ve said things and then felt really weird. Not sure if it’s that I shouldn’t have said them or that I’m needing to loosen shame and guilt unrelated to current times. This goes back to not having a compass. At any rate, it’s been uncomfortable. I’m really wanting to speak truth and love. Either I’m doing that and I want to recognize it or I’m not and I want to get back to it. Or both.
– Fucking fireworks. Even reading wham boom was hard. I’m like: “no more booms!” “Never again any booms!”
– So the thing where we have no money continues to be terrifying. I don’t know how terrifying it should or shouldn’t be, as I have no compass. But I’m having a hard time being okay with it.
The Good:
– The wee one has insisted on being a dog all this week and is even sleeping on the floor. I love it! I love that she is thinking and imagining and wanting and expressing what she wants and that I/we can make room in her life for experiments she needs to conduct like “what if I were a dog and I slept on a cushion on the floor?” (I also love that this particular cushion, which comes from The Playground, is still supporting experimentation and playfulness.)
– She’s also been needing things I can give her. Like she needed to cry specifically to me for several hours about some hard stuff going on in her life and I was able to be present for her in a way I rarely am with anyone and never for hours at a time. I could see even during that it meant so much for her to be witnessed while she cried with no fixing and no rush, and afterwards she’s feeling way more confident and happy. I don’t usually feel like a good mom, especially on weeks I spend several days in bed. Like I work around that and I do my best and I would usually shrug and say “eh. I’m not so bad most days.” But this week I was actually *good.* And it wasn’t just the one time. I’ve known the right questions to ask, had the right hugs to give, and generally been awesome, though sometimes accidentally.
– With aspirin and genius-neck-whispering-massage-therapist-husband and arnica gel and energy clearing, my neck has finally turned a corner. Or, rather, can literally turn a little with less pain.
– I have an appointment to see an expert in CFS/fibro/etc. and I have hope that I can have more energy in my life for the four energy-intense things I want to do in my life that are very difficult to do when confined to bed for a third of the days in any given month. I’m also getting new clarity on the patterns of overwork and no rest that have led me here. Who knows where it’ll go, but this admitting that I have some kind of issue I need help in examining, naming, and addressing is a nice shift to start from.
– I’m part of a singing meditation group and we are learning the -best- set of songs right now. I finally got them all on my phone and I got to listen to them the whole way to school and back on the bus. ‘Twas glorious.
– I’m really liking the kids in one of my classes (okay, so some are older than me, but there’s something about the level of heartbreak I went through from maybe 22 to 27 that makes 30 year olds whose lives revolve around drinking with their friends seem very young to me. Though not in a bad way. I’m just like “no one’s broken you open yet, so you go all in one direction still.” And of course I could be wrong.) At any rate, what I’m saying is that there’s growing mutual fondness I didn’t expect to find and I appreciate it. I tend to assume I’ll be attacked except in special circumstances with “special” people. And yet, even after the professor told everyone I got the highest grade on the midterm and ruined the curve – people are being nice. Not falsely to try to get help, either. I guess what I’m *really* saying is even college “kids” are still not middle schoolers and this is very nice. No group ever again has treated me like I was treated in middle school and I’m gradually getting to trust that this can be the normal way of the world. People want to be nice to each other, and to me. Maybe this is true.
– As awful as it feels to live in my mind and body right now, there’s a big cleaning and changing going on, and that’s probably good. I mean, I bet I’ll think it’s good when I’m on the other side. Right now it just kind of IS in a way that’s big and painful but not bad. I am on board with it. I want to go where it’s going. So I am ultimately grateful inside all my hurting.
Ohmygod yes to everything about fireworks and compass-loss and the thing that starts with C. <3
The Good –
Going to A Secure Location to watch the fireworks. I did not get the dose of Patriotic Music I wanted, but I dodged a dose of Music I Don’t Like. The BBQ food truck got 3 thumbs up. And illegal fireworks made fountains and flowers of light above the horizon for about an hour before our show. And the other show over our right shoulders that started a few minutes before. Colors and patterns I had never seen! The sea breeze keeping the stink away.
Catching the Monster at my microphone doing insult comedy on (throwing shoes at) The Dude. Saying out loud, “That’s the monster at the microphone.” It started up again, and I repeated it, smiling at The Dude.
Subterranean. Printing it out as a booklet to keep in my Brain. Sparking Other Connections – under the surface, descending numbers, (34 today), countDOWN, BASEment.
I can print/have printed the Salve of the Week on a sheet of paper I can move from day to day in my Brain. The Badass Love came as a heart-shaped, cinnamon-flavored hard candy.
Making lists for the Slightly Future Me to Investigate.
New gardening boots in citrus colors at the thrift store soon after the ones I had started leaking. And a bonus! A wish that I Never Dared Have is that I find a new article of clothing exactly like one I loved, wore out and threw away. And there it was, draped over the rack. A jacket with that pattern on it that goes with all my work pants. In fact, Version 1 is on my Badge Picture.
The Hard –
Loving the Iguanas in the Desk at Work as I magically make them disappear or into Useful Tools for the Next One.
{IIWII} – a glimpse into the Monster Playroom. Kind of like The Playground for Monsters. And the realization that Messing with Me is Not Fun for them. They’d rather be in the Playroom.
Wearing the Common Female Torture Device is okay.
What worked – Staying in A Political Meeting only long enough to pay my dues. And get a glass of lemonade. Superpower of My Boundaries are Set and I Can Stay in Them and They Will Keep Annoyances Out.
Whoosh Goodbye to June!
Quiet Chickens to all who need them.
Oh, Lee, thank you for the Quiet Chicken, that feels like a wonderfully comforting thing for me to have right now. Here I am, holding it in my lap. Chicken feathers are amazingly soft. <3
<3
Happy Friday and cluck! Omg such a week!
What worked this week: listening to my gut, following joy sparks. Embarking.
the sucks:
-the long weekend was not long enough
-I too have been craving connection. So while I have no phone-friends available after work, I crave to connect and so I go to Facebook and click links and before I know it I feel like I’m living in a Mad Max movie. I do not need to click those links, I do not need to read this story and get a share of the rage-fear pudding. Even well-meaning things putting their personal lines in the sand, is fucking awful. I even read the fucking cmments, which WHY???
-my insides vs. their outside. never fun
-omg both my credit cards are so freaking high. June always racks it up, but this year was extra fun so lots more charges
-and it’;s not done because I’m off a dance convention tonite so: hotel, meals, classes etc
-and my only real issue with the cards is the hsuabnd wants to pay them off next month but when he does (which is lovely of him) he always checks my charges and is “what’s this? 50 bucks for a facial? 80 bucks for a dress?”. I told him how shitty it makes me feel, since his card is not open to my scrutiny. REally makes my Crown droop. I’d rather pay the dang thing off myself than play out this “Ricky and Lucy” scene in my marriage
-my garden is limping along
-no progress on Operation Gold Star, altho maybe I’m wrong about that
-stalled on many Ops. suck.
-that weird ‘hang over’ on July 5
-I am not bothered by fireworks in general, I like them. but this year was obnoxious.
but so much joy and sparkle:
-Operation 50/50 was a success. Husband agrees that I am an awesome travelling companion and we should go away more often. Victory
-days of cool rainy weather. love
-wishes coming true! new friends, new women in my life, more connection
-noticing what a very bad idea spending the nite watching TV and being on FB is. a breath for good intel
-lots of true yes lately! lots of Guidance and Knowing the Next thing to do
-Colorado Burlesque Fest! going today!
-magick and more magick
-Summer
-Nothing is wrong actually
-o- <3 -o-
Hard this week: change is in the wimd, probably good change, and yet any change can take time and energy to negotiate. Sleep has been elusive at times. Eating patterns have been a little wonky. And the weather has been quite hot, so I seem to be thirsty all the time.
Oh, right, and I got rear-ended. The other driver is being a complete mensch about it, and it looks as if his insurance will cover everything, so on the whole it could have been much worse. And no one was hurt, which is the most important thing.
Good: New wallet! It's very pretty, with plenty of pleasing little details. And some money that I have owed someone for a while is being repaid at last; that's a relief. Also, I notice that I am really being mindful about self-care, and I am deeply happy about that.
What wotked? Allowing extra time.
Next time, I want to make more space for meditation, which may take more than one form.
I now invoke the superpower of When I Fly, My Wimgs Have the Softest Feathers. <3
You guys, I really feel for you regarding the explosive holiday… I kept seeing complaints about it on my Twitter feed and being from Europe, I have no idea what it’s all about, but I feel deep compassion for the sensitive and sensible souls in the US who are tortured by this.
The salve is beautiful and soothing, and I wish I could remember it more often.
My week… The hard:
– Always frustrated when my love stays out partying until dawn, and I stay home, as was yesterday night.
I proved myself that I can no longer do it, that I’m way happier when I wake up fresh on a weekend morning and that I just can’t keep up with booze and my throat aches the next day because of so much talking that I’m just not used to. But yet this fear that if I don’t share my lover’s interests he will figure out he’s bored with my hermit ass and replace me with someone more fun, with someone more like me from a decade ago. This is seriously the biggest proof of the passage of time for me. Not the lack of energy, not the white hairs, but not being willing to partake in the social activities that have become a waste of time for me.
– It took me a long time, with all my mindset & emotional healing magic tools, to get through procrastination on work. I kept working on my own projects instead and felt guilty in the process. Finally I broke through on Thursday and did a hard sprint to finish stuff and send them off, though a lot is still not done.
– The feeling of not having time for everything I want to do. I look at my monthly intention journal and ask myself “how”?
– Unlaws walking into our garden in the early morning and late night, grrr, bugger off.
– Mosquito bites that turned into hematoma from all the scratching.
I think that was quite enough?
The good:
+ Created & launched one part of a larger project I’m planning! Yay for working in steps and making visible progress!
+ “Mastermind” date with my dear friend, helping each other with ideas and advice for our businesses. She’s a tarot reader at fortuneclaire.com, go check her out if it interests you. I’m encouraging her to start blogging finally, as she’s a talented writer. (I also recommended her Havi’s blog and she liked it a lot, so we’re all Right People here :))
+ I wanted to post some clothes I no longer wear on Facebook to give away, but just couldn’t make myself hang out there any longer than I need to. And then my friend came over and she liked everything and took it away, yay!
+ Impromptu coffee in the middle of the work day because I work at home and he works the afternoon shift. I’d rather if it was a walk, but way too hot for that.
+ A potential client I’d really LOVE to work with on some illustrations told me she secured the budget for the project, and soon I’ll be painting away the fantastic, horror, historical & steampunky art for her stories! I was wishing for a more creative project for a long time, and here it is!
Thanks for sharing your path with us for the 7 years (and more), Havi!
It’s so helpful and healing to go with this practice with you.
I leave you some pebbles, freshly collected from the Mediterranean beach, still smelling of the sea.
I meant to say Adriatic beach, but it’s also Mediterranean so.. yeah.
7 seven 7 years, happy cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck for this nest that is waiting every Friday right here!
The hard this week:
– Dumped a remark on my brother that hurt him = guilt
– Letting myself me pulled into stuff that is not mine
– Physical result of the latter
– Having to catch a train while it feels like 52 degrees Celsius, no air con on train
– Not sleeping during heat
The good:
– Reconnecting with friends, not via skype or email but by actually seeing them amd talking and chatting forever
– Female solidarity
– My good old 2nd hand clothes store : 2 skirts and one dress fo ” no” money
– Temperature outside vaguely ok again
– Unexpected super intense, open and long talk with relatives
The Good:
Time alone with the Boy [yes, that same boy] and the courage to say what I wanted to say. And having him open the door that I have been lightly tapping on and say “ok, I’ll come out on the porch with you, and I’ll leave the door open and here are some things that I feel.”
A thank you heart for courage and vulnerability and seeing the shift in someone when they go from “here is what everyone else sees” to “here is what you can see.”
Kisses from the Boy.
The Hard:
Newly hatched things are wonderful and tiny and a little scary.