It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday, for this space, for being here when we get here.}
Three hundred and sixty five weeks of chickening!
Thank you, everyone who reads: you are the reason I am still doing this.
What worked this week?
Having good self-care instincts.
Or maybe I always have good self-care instincts and the trick is listening to them. Ooh.
Anyway, past-me wisely scheduled a session of bodywork magic with Wally for the day after my trapeze class.
And I took myself to old lady aerobics immediately after trapeze so that I could wave my arms around so they wouldn’t seize up. Also because it seemed important to remind my body that yes, there are things we can do together that don’t result in feeling helpless and incompetent.
Oh, and this wasn’t intentional at all, but I packed an easy-on easy-off sweatshirt, which turns out to be a very handy thing when your shoulders give up working.
Next time I might…
Talk to the monsters sooner.
My monsters were saying very mean things about my plan to try trapeze.
On the one hand, they thought I would be terrible at it (spoiler alert: I am!) and shouldn’t humiliate myself, and on the other hand, they thought it was shameful to sign up for the baby-steps remedial class, because that’s not adventurous. As they put it, “Either real adventure or get out of town!”
So of course I was avoiding talking to them, but once I did, I got so much useful intel.
They just love me so much and want to protect me from being laughed at, which is a reasonable desire, and they remember situations where keeping me away from mean people was important. Once we talked, things got a lot better.
I reminded them that it’s a very early class, so all the mean people will still be asleep, and that it’s a class specifically designed to be welcoming to people who feel anxious and uncomfortable about trying trapeze, so of course everyone there will be warm and accepting.
It was much easier to get through the experience of class having the monsters on my side. Next time we talk sooner!
And the title of my upcoming Biopic if it were based on this week…
She loves adventure almost as much as she loves hiding. The Havi Brooks Story.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- You guys, I am terrible at trapeze. I spent fifty minutes of the ninety minute class just crying my eyes out because I couldn’t do any of the things. I don’t mean that I couldn’t do the tricks they were trying to teach us. I mean that I couldn’t figure out how to get up onto the trapeze. Not even because of fear. My body just couldn’t figure out the mechanics of how to do it, even after it was explained to me about twenty times. A breath for intense frustration, for all the challenges of my not-so-secret-op of figuring out how to love my unique pace of learning, and a million trillion sparklepoints to me for signing up, for showing up, for staying until the end.
- You know how you always kind of think, way in the back of your mind, that if you can’t figure out your life, you will have to run away and join the circus? It turns out that is not even a good back-up plan. If the circus was recruiting, and not sure why they’d be doing that in the remedial trapeze class for people who are freaked out by the regular beginner class, but if they were looking to sign someone up, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t take the only person in the entire class who couldn’t get up onto the trapeze. I guess I could be an exhibit, maybe, but it would be a pretty boring one. “BEHOLD the woman with the surprisingly high IQ who can’t figure out how to do a somersault until the instructor shows her twenty times in a row and breaks down every single component of a simple movement that all toddlers do for fun! OBSERVE as someone who spent a decade of her life teaching coordination techniques is unable to figure out how to wrap her foot in the silks, even though it was just demonstrated for her multiple times very slowly! GAZE UPON THE SIGHT of her as she stirs comparison stew while watching people who are six inches shorter than she is just hoist themselves onto the trapeze while she can’t even get her feet high enough to do more than brush it with her toes, because she does not understand the mechanics of how this works!” I need a new backup plan, because the circus is not interested in me. A breath of protection, trust, forgiveness, safety and shelter, for me and for anyone else who needs it.
- My entire body hurts. There are lots of reasons for this, and, thankfully, this week they are not related to chronic pain but to trying new things, so hey, at least that’s fun and new. A breath for healing and recovery.
- I took a beginning jazz dance class and it was even more challenging/humbling than remedial trapeze. A breath for the me who wants so badly to thrive and to excel, may she be held in love and sweetness and know that there is so much appreciation for her. Oh, man. This whole loving yourself as you are stuff is not for the faint of heart.
- So much change. I went with my lover and my housemate to drop off a bunch of furniture for consignment and did not want to let anything go, except I have nowhere to store it, and it is time for it to go, and I was not feeling expansive or gracious about any of these changes, and I cried a little bit about letting go of the mahogany table, and then it felt strange and uncomfortable to be in my bedroom without it, and I didn’t want to go to bed. A breath for remembering that Now Is Not Then, and this is not The Beginning of The Bad Times, and that it is safe to let go of everything that is not my joy right now, and to trust that there will be other beautiful tables in my life, this is not the last beautiful table.
- So many projects. So many moving parts. How am I busy all the time? A breath for taking care of myself.
- I had been so looking forward to Waltz Brunch, my favorite thing about Portland. It only happens once a month, and I’ve been on the road for six months this year and also I had a knee injury, so finally I am here and I can waltz, yay, except then I discovered that my dress doesn’t fit anymore, and neither does my back-up dress. Also I didn’t want to go out and take buses in hundred degree weather. But oh the monsters about my dresses not zipping up. A breath for remembering that all these new, strong, powerful back muscles that get in the way of zippers are just contributing to my general LUSCIOUSNESS, and that any dress that doesn’t look amazing on me is the wrong dress, and that all sizes of Havi are good, and also that waltz will happen when it happens, and it will be just right.
- 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.
- I am the bravest person in the entire world! I signed up for TRAPEZE! And stayed for the whole class even though I couldn’t do it! I went to Jazz Dance! And stayed for the whole class even though it was hard! I went to burlesque and had to give up on the routine because I couldn’t be on my knees, but I went and tried! I did things this week that I have been dreaming and wishing about for years, and this was the week that I felt courageous enough to try them! A breath for this, and for many thousands of sparklepoints.
- Oh the FIERCE GRATITUDE (thank you, Carrie Ann Moss, for this perfect term) that I feel about my knee being able to move again, and the relief from chronic pelvic pain, and for having a strong, healthy, curious body that wants to move and learn and try things. Thank you, body! Thank you, bones and muscles and ligaments and tendons! Thank you, life and aliveness! Thank you, desire! A breath for joy, play, courage, wonder.
- So much sweetness and intensity and spilling-over-of-joy with my lover. A breath for this full and happy heart of sweetness.
- I took BIG SCARY WONDERFUL STEPS towards a variety of dreams and wishes this week. Giant progress on so many ops! A breath for magic, especially the magic of fractal flowers. And a breath for feeling ready.
- I did lovely Shmita things like skipping stones, walking in the park, taking long delicious naps, eating cheese, not worrying. A breath for how fun it is in those moments when you do actually just trust the process.
- One of my favorite dance teachers, who is not exactly lavish with praise, said “hey, good work today!” to me, on the day I finally nailed both turns. I feel incredibly excited about this, about the part where I perceive that my skills are visibly improving, about the part where someone else can see it too, about relinquishing the need for external legitimacy and still delighting in being appreciated. A breath for forward movement.
- This was just a beautiful week for me. I felt light, bubbly, joyful, hopeful, full of life and aliveness. A breath for THANK YOU.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. Second breakfast. Third breakfast. My brother is the best. Flowers from the garden. The Secret Sword Society is amazing. 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 emptied the basement, got everything ready for the sale of YARD, and did I mention that I am the bravest person in the world and went to a trapeze class, even though I was afraid I’d be terrible at it?! Yes! Calling that a successful mission, and I now award myself a hundred billion sparklepoints. Wham Boom.
Superpowers I had this week…
Last week I asked for the superpower of Wildly Appreciating Myself, and I had that!
I also had the superpowers of Being Comfortable Around People Who Are Feeling Temporarily Uncomfortable Being Around Me, and Following My Instincts.
Powers I want.
I want the superpower of Releasing In Love Because I Do Everything From Love.
The Salve of Endless Sparklepoints.
Sparklepoints are a thing I made up because they are better than regular points. They glow. And they have a wonderful cascading effect — delivering all the visual joy of fireworks without the terrifying war zone sounds.
When I put this salve on my skin, I begin to give myself credit for all I do.
Instead of thinking (monsters!) that I have to finish something or accomplish something or be “good” at it, whatever that means, in order for it to be meaningful, suddenly I am able to believe deep in my body that it’s okay to celebrate all the steps in between.
This salve dissolves beautifully, and before you know it, you’re feeling joyful and appreciative about having wanted to do something, thrilled that you’re even considering taking an initial step towards something that might bring you delight.
In addition to being a very playful salve, this is also a secret sovereignty salve, and it restores all lost crowns.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is called Some Good Compasses. Their latest album is Resting Towards The Horizon. They play fiddle music, but without a fiddle, and it’s 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 life.
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!
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Endless sparklepoints!!!!!!
Hard stuff: As my weekly rhythm transitions into being a busier rhythm, monsters are rumbling with remembrances of Then, of all the Thens when I felt busybusybusy notimenotime, and I will not live that way anymore. Now is not then, so now need not be *like* then. Oh, and hello old pattern from then, honestly it isn’t even in your own best interest to exercise yourself in this way anymore. We’ve outgrown this, and it doesn’t *work*. We need new ways to give you what you want, and we will find them.
Good stuff: Ahhhh, the amazing and glorious promise of new opportunities and new clients and new music! I cooked two delicious dinners this week. A dear friend said some lovely things about me that made me feel known and cherished. Oh, and I have a beach trip coming up in just a little over a week, and the anticipation is delectable!
I now invoke the superpower of Believing In My Deepest, Richest Self… <3
The Hard:
– Too tired to drag myself into wakefulness before 11, then usually collapsed for a nap of several hours at 1 or 2, and then I got maybe 4 or 5 hours of exhausted day from 4pm to 9pm, and then more sleeping. I am bored and lonely and tired and my whole body aches from not moving.
– Got a bug bite (or something – I remember the moment it happened, and it was quite mysterious) and now my whole leg itches.
– (Trigger warning for bad things happening to children): we found out the tumor removed from my cousin’s two year old daughter is not the kind with the 86% chance of survival that can be treated in the state they live in. Rather it’s the one with the 43% chance of (6 year) survival that requires higher levels of chemo only available in Seattle, and which has a much higher relapse rate, even decades after the fact. There just aren’t enough tears. Also her parents are likely losing their jobs and house and savings, as they’re staying in Washington to be with her.
– Money and what to do about it.
– I did get to leave the house for a few afternoons, and on one of them I saw a beautiful woman doing her makeup in a fancy car. And everything about this – that she is beautiful, that she knows how to apply makeup, that she has enough money for this car implying a job where she is paid above the poverty line where I eek out my living, that she feels in conflicted enough about both makeup and the fancy (gas-guzzling) car to be seen in public involved with both … I’m sure her life is not as golden as it seemed in that moment and certainly my life includes many things, including material riches that are more than most people in this world can imagine. But just the idea that I could never do it – never did and never will live up to my culture’s idea of womanhood or even personhood… I spent the next several hours sobbing. Which was a nice clearing, but all this grief itself is kind of hard.
– Similarly I listened to a podcast I normally really like where they interviewed a guy who said things like “it’s never too late, you’re never too old or sick, just get up every day and walk farther than you did the day before. If you have the willpower you can.” And then I screamed many nasty things about how some of us can’t even walk to the bathroom without passing out and then that’s all the energy we have for the day and fuck you, Mr. Third chakra cultural ideal who has three jobs, all very demanding, and is 35 and male and upper class and in good health and walks more now than he did before. I mean, yay for walking, but also fuck you! It’s all a goddamn lie. “Just work hard and everything will be okay, and if it doesn’t work that way for you then hate yourself and if it doesn’t work that way for other people, pretend they don’t exist.” Anyways, eventually I decided to change my citizenship, but before I got there I was pretty pissed. And sad, both. Sad I’m leaving this (metaphorical) country, even if I hate it, and angry about all the ways living here doesn’t work for me.
The Good:
– It was mostly not so ungodly hot this week. At one point I was even cold! I very much appreciate this.
– (More trigger warning for bad things happening to children): my cousin’s daughter with cancer does *not* have any in the brain scan or the bone scan! Not only is this good, but it’s basically the only good news we’ve had so far. It’s nice to have something to celebrate. No brain cancer and no bone cancer!
– I discovered that I’ve been the (metaphorically) half-unwilling citizen of a nation whose policies, citizens, and culture I do not believe in. This week I’ve decided that I am no longer a citizen of that nation (the nation of the bad news post office). I am packing my things and joining the star house nation instead! Normally just reminding myself over and over again “oops, we’ve slipped into an old pattern,” while at least moderately effective, is frustratingly slow. But every time I realize I’m worrying/getting mad/feeling victimized about/at/by this nation I’m no longer a citizen of, it not only helps me start to unravel thought-loops, but it’s a little burst of joy. The star house nation! No one can stop me from just joining the star house nation!
– I got an A in statistics, which is data for the monsters that working only as hard as I’m told to internally does not result in doom and failure. Sample size is still small (n=2), but I’ll keep experimenting.
– Instead of statistics, I’m now in Medical Anthropology! It’s soooo interesting and fun and it’s online so I no longer have to spend two hours getting to and from school every day. (Just the days with the class I hate.)
– Today it is before 11am (it’s before 9am, even), and I can think and reason. I may not have ventured to sit up yet, but dare I say? I’m awake. This is very good news.
– My child is obsessed with classical music and cooking. Yesterday she had a full-on, hour long tantrum about how a) she wanted to stir the stew more but only with the red stirrer and only if she could go “adagio,” and b) I was not finding and playing the correct music on iTunes. Tantrums aren’t maybe the most fun, but passion sure is. It was awesome.
– Also in “two-and-a-half is the best age ever,” she spent 15 minutes telling me to tell her she couldn’t go outside so she could practice feeling angry and/or sad about it. The tears would eventually get real enough I’d break character and assure her she absolutely could go outside, then she’d turn off the tears immediately and tell me “mom, say no!” I feel like I’m starting to see the Scorpio sun, Pisces moon thing.
Scarlet is amazing. What a gift to be able to parent such a smart and passionate child.
I’m so sorry about your cousin’s child and about what they face as they stay with her. The suffering of children is the worst.
Congratulations on the statistics course. More congratulations on leaving *that* nation and joining star house nation.
♥
My working memory is extremely limited so i’ll comment first, then read the rest of the post.
I can’t learn how to do physical things when they are demonstrated to me, verbally, in front of a bunch of other people. Especially if those other people are good at the thing. My brain completely shuts down.
See: my gifted-athlete sister showing me “how easy” water skiing is. I almost drowned several times. I never managed to stand up for more than 2 seconds w/o plowing nose-first into very cold water. Beyond humiliating because every other person in my family is a gifted athlete.
Wowwwwww it’s been a while since I’ve chickened!
The last few weeks’ programming has featured:
+Operation Q: QFest 2015
+Flight of the Pterodactyl
+The Great Green Dodge
+PickUpStix
+-//-commercial break-//- from Op: Enterprise
+-//-summer reruns-//- of MaxJAW
+Operation Eleanor Rigby: the new spinoff series from Operation Dear Prudence
Breathing for the tangles, the mysteries, the question blocks that turn into blockades:
+Breathing for the mystery of Levels 2-5. Breathing gratitude for this measuring stick that speaks to my condition. Breathing sadness about how far away the top of it seems. Breathing as I remember times I’ve overcome insurmountable obstacles in the past; breathing for the mes who knew I never would; breathing for the times that they were right and I didn’t. Breathing wholeness just as I am, right where I am.
+Breathing for the Agent Auctoria Retirement Fund. Breathing for the Mischief Butterflies (new fake band?) who have taken residence in the HR department.
+Breathing for the fingertip I chopped off with a mandoline (OW!??!) Breathing gratitude that it’s mostly healed up now. Breathing for the mysteries about this. Breathing for the monsters who are seething with rage about it. Breathing for the intel I obtained about how my body responds to that level of physical pain (OW!!?!). Breathing safety into a strong force field surrounding my entire physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, and energetic body/ies.
+Breathing for the Great Milk Carton Mystery. Breathing empathy for me and for the Cartographers. Breathing into the space that solving this mystery will fill.
+Breathing for the Green Dodge. Breathing for what I know about what the intel from that is. Breathing for a smooth, simple resolution that leaves me feeling safe, strengthened, and empowered.
+Breathing for the Earth Claws. Breathing for the frustration, for the inaction, for the rage, for the ripping-open. Breathing for the What Do We Do Now?
+Breathing for the Ongoing Saga of Banana Peel. LE SIGHHHHHH.
+Breathing for the Ongoing Memorial Saga of Agent Shipjumper. Boo hiss.
Breathing for donuts, sweetness, delight!
+Breathing for the Adventures in Qontinued Qheart! Breathing for the places this connects me. Breathing for the MMM that I want from this. Yes.
+Breathing for the Magical Miracle Supply Shoppes that have beem Magical Miracle Supplying me just ‘cuz. Thank you! Breathing gratitude and delight and appreciation and love!
+Breathing for the Adventures of Magic Bus! Breathing for the Epic Y3DoK!
+Breathing for all the books. ALL THE BOOKS!!!!
+Breathing for Operation Pterodactyl. AWWWW YESSSSSS. SO HARD SO GOOD!!!!
+Breathing for my body’s incredible ability to heal itself, even with all I put it through. Holy fucking wow.
+Breathing for Operation Zoom In. FFZZZHHHOOOOM!!
+Breathing for Operation Firefly Bee! OHMYGOD THIS IS SO GOOD.
I am accepting with GLADNESS and GRATITUDE this Salve of Endless Sparklepoints. I am sprinkling it all over my body. I am spooning it into my noodles. I am bathing in it and soaking it in through my pores. ENDLESS SPARKLEPOINTS HOORAYYYYY!!!
For this coming week, the Week of QheartQsponge, I invoke the following Superpowers:
Superpower of Ocean Listenings
Superpower of I Create All Sorts of Magical Things
Superpower of Pterodactyl Power
Superpower of Open Heart Open Sponge
Superpower of I Am The Okayest!
Superpower of Awesome.
And my Fake Band of the week is…the Cubist Boobs!
This week’s description of Sparkle points resonates all the way down to my quivering toes!
I am going to apply for a technical job that (my monsters insist) I am only 30% qualified for. I probably won’t get it. I just want to see if I can get interviewed. (I haven’t worked since 2009; last technical job, I left in 2007.)
Just letting myself want something scary-hard is ~ as enjoyable as actually doing it.
Your classes this week reminded me of Controlled Burn training, a week long class, in 1999. I was terrified of using the drip torch, but it was part of the final exam – which, if I didn’t pass, i’d have to give up my internship. So, I did it (practically having an out of body experience from stress). And I passed! Later, the 2 controlled burns I participated in were peak experiences.
Anyway, Havi, your week sounds amazing!!!
<3 <3 <3 and also *thank you*
Alll the sparklepoints! * × ? × *
“Oh, man. This whole loving yourself as you are stuff is not for the faint of heart.”
So true..
I never harbored any hopes of running away with the circus, I’ve been the most anti-athletic person ever since I was little. (I managed to fall in such a way that I haven’t even scratched my head, but my shoulder had swollen up to the size of a mellon. I looked like I had two heads. Actually, that might have been a good opportunity to get a job at the circus.)
The hard from the week:
– Mosquitoes. Seriously. I can’t sleep properly or sit in my garden anymore.
– The room at my parents’ house is unbearably hot even at night, and what was supposed to be a weekend of relaxation and rest ended up as an exhausting experience. I don’t know how we’ll endure our vacation there.
– This rising early has started to wear me down and apparently I’m forgetting stuff I agreed to. A totally unnecessary argument about a stupid misunderstanding and I missed out on the sea that day because I go to sleep at granny o’clock.
– Sitting for almost 2 hours in an office as the kind, but not very computer savvy lawyer is preparing a document by typing with two fingers.
– Working ungodly hours on the days when I don’t go to the beach. Like today… From 7.30 to 8pm, minus breaks for meals.
A breath for knowing it’s not going to be like this forever.
The good:
+ Went to the beach 3 days this week! The morning swim was especially pleasant.
+ Remembering to go back to the drawing board (literally) when I’m stuck. Sketching things out makes everything better.
+ Published the post I wanted to share for so long. I was afraid for a bit, but so far I got nothing but thank you notes and encouragement. So many people who struggle alone. Let us find each other and hold our hands in the tough times.
+ Waking up before the alarm bell and excitedly getting up before dawn – I couldn’t imagine this would even be possible. The joy that is working on a project that is fulfilling and inspiring. More of this, please!
+ Third breakfast! 😀 including a banana + frozen berries smoothie.
I wish everyone a lovely weekend!
I just had to pop down here to the comments to tell you guys that my brother actually did join the circus on a kind of impulse. He couldn’t do trapeze or any of those things so he became the guy who feeds and waters the elephants. True story!
Maybe the circus *can* be a back-up plan, as long as they need people to water the elephants and also to cook for the performers and the crew.
That said, my backup plan for the last 20 years has been to move to Mexico and teach English. Or, alternatively, to teach Spanish to people who live in a place where Spanish is pretty necessary.
I love this. I am totally a water-carrier and a cook. And the sawdust-spreader and the scrub-the-flies-out-of-the-spotlight-lens
An irony: the most glamorous shots of me on the web were taken at a pole dancing studio. I took the class but lacked the arm strength to get even an inch off the ground.
The two versions of “Anyone Can Whistle” in the musical of the same name resonate deeply with me. They’re sung by a woman who cannot whistle.
A lovely thing about having reached middle age: I do not have to stay in any class or agree to any outing that requires hand-eye coordination or tumbling backwards or other feats my body has never demonstrated the ability to perform. I have stamina. I have poise. I have enthusiasm. There is so much I have yet and forever to learn about swimming, dancing, SUP, and even “mere” walking and stretching that I am not missing out on All Those Other Things.
Dear Past Me Who Burst Into Tears In Bloody Gym Class: it truly gets much, much better.
Yay for stamina, poise, and enthusiasm! One of the good things about no longer being young: I know my own mind, I know my own strengths, I know what interests me and what doesn’t, and I don’t have to do things that I don’t want to do or that are beyond my capabilities.
What worked:
Not going out of town.
The Good:
Reading a book that pains one in a beautiful way, even causing a tiny yelp when the knife goes in a little deeper.
Finally being ready to let go, and letting go.
Remembering that all timing is right timing.
Hearts & pebbles for this week.
Invoking Amnesty because wow, it’;s Monday. How did that happen?
I found myself very resistant to all journaling all last week, but I’m ready chicken
What worked last week: all the Good 50 Fairy gifts like Everythign is Fine, This Doesn’t require my input, and don’t click the link. Using my calendar and to-do lists and day pllaner to good effect.
the sucks:
-the worst suck was getting triggered as hell in an online forum I thought was safe-space, and then getting cyber-bullied and chased out when I called out the content as being assaultive and in poor taste. I’ve never been so threatened in an online forum, and good heavens it really was the Lewis law: ‘all coments about feminism prove feminism.” a breath for triggers, fear and disappointment
-worried about [silent retreat]
-Havi, so much in your post resonates for me. I just spent a weekend at burlesque fest, which was great, but it was a lot of comparison stew and at times green eyes: about my friend who started burlesque after I did and is now on her way to national titles, over the fact that her work and her husband allows her spend 10 hours per week inb class of many kids (including ballet and aerial silks), and I’m angry because it’s true I haven’t put the time in that she has I also didn’t have the time availkable to put in, and my kids are coming home and my time will evaporate further
-and really a;l she is required to do in her life is please herself and work on 5 clients pr week, and the rest is all fun and play and a husband to pay bills and a boyfriend to take her out.
-wastefulness
-everything I failed to do in my kid’s absence
-my butt
-my hurt feelins
-,my lack of White Flowers. I managed one White Flower day last week and it was amzing and helpful, and now I feel pretty down on myself for not following thru
-money panic last week
but the sparkle!:
-my husband did PTSD triage with mebeautifully. usually he’s not much help, but Thursday nite he was perfect, and my friend Leah strode into battle on my behalf, like Brienne of Tarth. support!
-garden limping along
-I put in a few hours of sweat equity into a friend’s garden/ ritual space.
-money panic was temporary, all is well. trend towards imoprovement here
-Wizard classes are fun
-I didn’t finish congruencing, but some congruencing has happened
-creative work, altar work, all happening
-success on my blog
-incoming-me’s showing me cool stuff. Progress on Operation Natasha
-Next Steps are being revelaed, and a bunch of leveling up is on the way.
-my kids come back tomorrow! happy to be seeing them.
Tuesday chicken! Why not?
The hard:
– other people having used my rucksack and setting the straps all wrong.
– consistently having to walk two miles further than I really wanted to. More, on the rainy day, when in another universe I’d have stopped at lunchtime.
– relatedly, ow, my calves, ow, my thighs.
– stupid generator outside my window at the Premier Inn on the third night. Lenny Henry lied to me!
The good:
– a proper long-distance all-at-once walk like I’ve been wanting to do ever since I got back from Santiago eight years ago.
– Giorgia, who made me dinner and washed my clothes and was generally amazing.
– birthday party!
– two buses! a band! dancing! the way everybody helped to clear the hall and we got back by eleven rather than still being frantically sweeping at midnight! the way I did absolutely nothing (monster estimate! but fairly near the mark!) until the actual day of the party and it still worked amazingly!
– seriously, I have such brilliant people in my life, and they travel so far to see me and celebrate me; I am awed and humbled.
Next time I might:
– write my own route that suits my own walking style
Happy birthday, Kathleen!