Hello, week: we are here.
{a breath for being here when we get here}
Thank you, week!
This is the 388th week in a row we are chickening here together….
What worked this week?
Trusting my instincts.
This requires getting quiet enough to hear what I know and want.
Naming the days.
I have been naming everything lately, and this helped.
These were the days of my week this week:
The Namer Names. Honey Sanctuary. Panther Powers. New Treasure. Welcome Miracles. Abundant Clarity. Here And Ready.
It is amazing what a difference a name makes.
Next time I might…
Look at the calendar.
Where’s the moon? Where am I in relation to the moon? And also to my cycle?
Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…
Shiva the Destroyer: Knocking Down Walls Is One Way To Make Doors.
8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- The person who is far away is distant not only in kilometers. I am trying to stay present and not invent stories about this, or make the mistake of thinking that now is then just because now is reminding me of then. Now is not then. That was twenty years ago. Now is now. Let’s stay with now. A breath for heartache and those new year blues.
- Bitter cold. Too cold. 27 degrees Fahrenheit? NEGATIVE THREE in Celsius. I hate it, I hate everything about it, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to spend another month here, but I can’t leave before then because there’s too much work to do emptying my house. Also my heart breaks thinking about everyone here who doesn’t have a home and is on the street. A breath for safe passage.
- Tamir Rice. There is nothing surprising about [There Is No Justice] here, and definitely no justice for black children and apparently no way to keep them from being murdered by the people whose job it is in theory to support safety, and zero accountability and the system doesn’t work, and we already knew all of this, and still it hurts so much and fills us with fury. A breath for this broken country, the deep commitment people have to maintaining blindness, systemic wrongs, the infinitely rigged game.
- The quiet drive to say the last goodbye to the ballroom felt like being en route to a funeral, not wanting to go but just this grim determination to not run the other direction. A breath for courage, and exit as you wish to continue.
- Mysterious gross fly infestation, what is even happening. A breath for banishment.
- Noticing how I am craving “faster” results from my wax-on wax-off montage practice, even though that’s not actually how that works, the point of practice and process is practice and process. And also, when I’m not listening to my monsters, I’m able to see remarkable change. A breath for being with what is, and not feeding what I don’t want to grow.
- A thing I wanted to be met with great celebration didn’t really make a ripple. A breath for my sweet hopeful heart, releasing expectation, and for channeling my own celebratory parade. Imaginary red balloons of releasing, red balloons in the parade.
- Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. May peacefulness prevail. 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.
- Deciding to do new year’s eve my way and not go as planned to a favorite dance with friends. Instead I had a quiet evening with Incoming Me. We prepared a beautiful meal and wrote wishes and thank-yous, early to bed. It was just what I needed, and I am glad to have side-stepped the energy of expectations and frantic thresholding. A breath for sweet intentional entry.
- Way less triggered than usual, this is weird and good. Didn’t freak out during the new year’s fireworks. I mean, did not enjoy the explosion sounds, but it didn’t fill my body with terror. And there was an incident on the street downtown, a guy approaching me on the sidewalk suddenly slammed into a wall and bounced off of it directly towards me. I immediately sidestepped and was ready for fight/flight, which was unnecessary, and he apologized and moved on. He was either super high or terrible at parkour, or possibly both, but the point is that I was able to understand this, and recognize that I wasn’t being attacked. Usually if something like this happens, PTSD-me takes over, and it can take days to come down from that. This time, I thought how lucky he is that I didn’t pepper-spray him, and how glad I am that my physical training has given me agility and speed of reaction. And then I shook it off with TRE when I got home, and that was it. That’s a pretty radical change in my life. A breath for commitment to what I want, combined with warm loving presence and the willingness to change it up as needed.
- Dance dance dance dance dance dance dance. Everything about this is good. A breath for this.
- Training hard and able to implement much of what I’m working on, again, despite the monsters saying there’s no improvement. They’re wrong. I have skills and consistency today that didn’t exist two weeks ago, and this is a big deal. A breath for pleasure.
- Fun secret ops. A breath of big big joy.
- Knowing what I want. A breath for how great this is.
- The exit from the ballroom was truly mesmerizing, beautiful, and wonderfully healing. I played a favorite song. I touched the walls. I let hallelujiah be the word. Found my thank yous — there has been a lot of pain in this experience but definitely the treasure I am taking away is the treasure of being Abundantly Clear about what I don’t want to do with my life. I stood on the stage and danced the dance of spirals, the dance that was, the dance of shiva taking everything apart. I closed my eyes and the ballroom talked to me, really talked to me, and finally answered the question I have been asking all these years. Usually I ask, and the ballroom is like, shrug, all is well. This time it told me everything, and it was sweet and powerful, and I cried, because we understood each other and loved each other. And then I said goodbye, and everything about this was right. And I am also glad to have brought the right friend to witness the ending, someone who understands magic and does not require caretaking or to be entertained in any way. A breath of thank you.
- Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of warm things, like the best hot water bottle, mushroom soup, and the arborist lending me a giant ridiculously warm sweater that he made. 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 am really liking all my projects right now: Operation Remove Static. Project MONTAGE and the Mission of 999. The Namer Names. The Studio Op. Sweet Honey and the Fountaining are still on the back burner, and that works for me. Thank you, fractal flowers.
I am bestowing vast quantities of sparklepoints upon myself like a fairground stripper, and you are welcome to do the same for you.
Superpowers I had this week…
Last week I asked for the powers of standing tall and feeling powerful, fierce, graceful and beautifully embodied, panther-like. And I am delighted to report that I had many moments of this, and would like more.
Powers I want.
The power of asking for what I want, the power of taking care of myself first, the power of not hiding.
The Salve of Intentional Thresholding.
It is a known thing that we forget things at the threshold, it is the doors that do the erasing, this is known as the boundary effect, doors are a boundary event, and this is so very interesting.
But doorways also offer us the opportunity to really pause and think about what we want to take with us and leave behind, how we want to passage. Enter as you wish to be in it. Exit as you wish to continue.
When I walk through a door, I like to think DOOR!
And this salve holds all the beautiful qualities and superpowers of doors.
Potential. Newness. Passage. Clearing. Regenerating. Transforming. Glowing. Undoing.
And of course all the superpowers of opening and closing.
This salve dissolves all the usual new year’s bullshit that you might encounter online or out in the world, and shifts the focus to self-treasuring, what do you want from this door, this moment, how do you want to be as you pass through it, how do you want to meet yourself on the other side.
This salve is good for unanswered questions, and for delivering good surprises.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is:
If You Own A Pub
Their latest album is Mayhem Invited, and it turns out this band is just one guy.
ANNOUNCEMENT!
Last chance for the extremely magical 2016 calendars are ready — The Year Of Doors! You can try to get one 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.
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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It’s a surprise Chicken because yesterday did not feel like Friday. Which means today was the perfect day for it to arrive. A hand on heart sigh for the Hards, and sparkle points for the goods. Those are some good goods!
The Hard:
Trying okcupid again. So much energy towards something that is uncomfortable. But also something that is taking action that is in integrity with what I value and want in my life. I need a metaphor for this. Or an anagram. Assistance welcome.
The Good:
Playing a game with friends that had us doubled over in laughter. Then remembering the game as I was falling asleep and laughing again.
Deciding not to join friends out when they were at a place I didn’t like. And had been drinking for 6 hours. A breath for boundaries and being ok home alone.
Yoga videos that push me past where I push myself. Sore legs and ribs.
Taking a day off from yoga.
My yoga teacher closed her studio. I hadn’t been in a long time and so the closing gave me the chance to go for a nice long visit, and to buy blocks and a blanket and a bolster that are infused with the energy of so many yogis (even after everything go washed in hot water), and a clothes hamper that has changed the entire dynamic of my laundry system. And she is just moving her practice down the street. A breath for connection and reconnection.
And my wish for the week since I didn’t make one yet: that the connections I reach for and build are ones that will build a strong bridge, not paper ones that dissolve and fade.
Ohh@connections “will build a strong bridge, not paper ones that dissolve and fade” — powerfully said! Vika and Linda have a song called “Hard Love”, where Vika sings how she doesn’t want an “ice cream love” this time; she wants a Hard Love! Your words remind me of this, as well as resonate deeply in concept. Thankyou; your naming it just made it okay for me to be wrestling with this very Thing.
*that will build…
There has seemed to be a great deal happening beneath the surface this week, for me.
What worked? Entry, and re-entry. It’s good to remember that I can always re-enter.
Next time I might allow myself more down time in this season of the year. Declaring rest and *thinking* rest is all well and good, and it’s valuable to practice resting in motion, and at the same time, there is a cranky inner monster who seems to think that I have been selling myself a bill of goods, and doesn’t like it.
Hard: I somehow got blindsided by a whole mess of sticky new year’s energy. It left me shaky. I also got some uncomfortable news that reminded me of changes down the road, changes that make me feel sad and scared, not least because of great unknowns and potential grief. Let me try to remember that grieving for things that haven’t happened yet is probably a lot like worry — very little return on investment there.
Good: Remembering self-care, remembering to ask for what I need, remembering that I have more power to shift my own reality than I sometimes think I do. Clarity. Oh, clarity, you are *such* a good friend.
I now invoke the superpower of Feeling At Ease and At Home With My Tribe.
Clarity really is the best friend, I think that every day! <3
Likewise Havi, your posts help me with my process. Heartfelt thanks.
The Hard
~ physical pain, which morphs into emotional pain (and sometimes the other way ’round)
~ isolation
~ thinking I can do more than I actually can (gotta love the girl’s spirit and optimism *wry grin*) and paying heavily for it
~ software programs deciding to take ownership of ALL. MY. PHOTOS. Especially when I’m So. Thing. about Privacy (sorry, Safety and Security Monster, I know this pushes your buttons)
The Deliciously Magical
~ making wonderfully delicious choices that are very Me and make me sing inside (!), even though they’d not be understood by many (any?)
~ caretaking of my sweet body soooo lovingly and knowing she feels it–Gratitude both ways
~ just playing and experimenting with lots of Me-oriented things…and loving it!
~ crazy wild luscious fluent self spaces that inspire my process!
I don’t know whether this Hard or Magical, however it feels like Both. I ran into someone today whom I haven’t seen for a few years and who was a sort of mentor to me all those moons ago. He was impressed and told me I was “obviously in a good place”, even though I’d told him I had some (invisible) health challenges. (He’s in a fabulous place, so perhaps tis projection?!!) I like that I’m exuding this delicious energy–I can feel it and I know it glows outwards–yet what about All The Suffering that sees no light, has no shoulder, no ear, no Understanding?
(*breathes and pats the Shame Monster* I know, I know. It’s okay… even if they DO think I’m exhibiting Victim Mentality by naming All The Suffering, we shalt still live, right? *smiles reassuringly*)
My Dear-Sweet-Shame-Monster-that-seeketh-to-Protect-me and I send our warmest wishes to those in the Northern Hemisphere and share our Sunshine with you! Havi, I’d be a tiny blue thing on someone’s doorstep in that kind of insane weather! I think it’s too cold here half the time!
Oh, thank you for the Warm Wishes, Magic – my Thyroid Monster in a cold apartment deeply appreciates them!
Dimanche shalom! Toda raba, week.
What worked: wearing the roses to the library.
Next time: pack snacks.
Grrrs:
1. Feeling like I should have challenged the surly parking attendant who overcharged me, even though moving on with my life was probably the wiser thing to do.
2. GI distress.
3. Shoulder twangs.
4. Oh, Israel.
5. The sandwich from the formerly great cafe was terrible. Even the dog couldn’t finish it.
6. Project [c] still an iguanaphant.
7. I thought I was done with holiday tipping, but I just spotted a card from the recycling guys.
8. Letting things go dormant — lilies, projects, itineraries — is nerve-wracking.
Yays:
1. As hoped, attending the Richard II readaloud drew my attention to lines I hadn’t really noticed or understood before. (Even though it turns out I read through the same entire damn play seven years ago.)
2. Debugging lesson plans = raising my Word game.
3. Writing a thank-you note on a postcard I purchased 30-40 years ago. A breath for small things providing so much pleasure.
4. I like that my scanner lets me save a trace of these things for myself while letting the actual cards go to whom they belong to next. As well as copies of letters that used to require a stash of dimes and a trip to the library and endless dithering-angst about whether the copy was worth retaining.
5. Good gel pens.
6. Such tender shoots from the indoor rosemary. Picking and chopping them for last night’s lemon-olive chicken dish.
7. I am fortunate to living in a city where, among other things, the garbage and recycling get collected regularly.
8. It is a sunny day, and I have ink, rice, and water.
Warm wishes to all y’all.
iguanaphants! <3
Much love to you and to the ballroom and to everything that has been and that will be.
The hard:
– really could not cope with the pub on New Year’s Eve, and it wasn’t even horrible
– feeling chased
– suddenly being terrified by all my plans for 2016
The good:
– rally!
– clearing up a misunderstanding
– immense support from all sorts of people
– discovering things about love and peace
– a long, long bath
– a long, long nap
– catching up with friends
Thank you, Havi, for this:
“Usually if something like this happens, PTSD-me takes over, and it can take days to come down from that.”
You put right this right out where people can see it and you make me see that I’m not alone. I need that right now.
Blessings on you for your courage.
Mm, chicken on monday
WHOOSH GOODBYE week!
WHOOSH HELLO week!
SO MUCH GOOD
I have been in a very happy place at home, for the most part, BP and I doing the dishes together in the evening, and it’s so luxuuuuurious to see the clean kitchen in the morning!
Superb conversations with BP, C and D, B and SR. feeling like communication is flowing and feeling like my Right People are with me in this Right Place at this Right Time. Few feelings better than this.
Masking tape on top of the fridge, and Duct tape on the tool shelf –> Adulting is Awesome
AARG, I WANT TO IGNORE THE HARD STUFF TO KEEP ENJOYING THESE GOOD THINGS BUT I ALSO WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH THE HARD STUFF AND RELEASE IT SO IT DOESN’T [BLARGH] LATER
OK self, deep breath, we can do this
I’ve chosen a lot away from some things I Need to be doing (ie. where the $$ comes from) and lots of GUILT and lots of NOT BELIEVING I”M CAPABLE and lots and lots and lots of imposter syndrome, and not being sure what to do with all these feelings, and at the same time feeling anxious and squeezed because of $$, so not feeling like there’s room to breathe or self care or deal with my shit because i need to GO GO GO and MAKE $$ and SUPPPORT THE FAMILY, and so much guilt about the self care time, but it hides and doesn’t show itself until unexpected moments, and then kicks me when i’m down. WUSIT?! Unsovereign Shit, I SEE YOU and I SEE YOU SQUIRMING AWAY, and we are just going to sit here together until you stop squirming. Yes I did just raise my voice, I am NOT kidding around kiddo.
But cancel that, I actually don’t want to name a part of myself Unsovereign Shit. Because this part of me is not the shit, it is created by the shit, it exists and persists by feeding on the shit, but the shit is not a part of me, and shit is not about me. Part of me, I am sorry. I love you. Here, I want to feed you something that is not shit. Please try this chicken.
Also hard: 18 hours of driving in 36 hours, 3 of which were the most horrendous traffic jam I have ever seen. Once again, WUSIT?!?!?!
Leaving breaths and pebbles and flowers.
What superpower do I want this afternoon? Mmm… how about This Moment Is My Truth. Also, I Am A Brave Adventurer Training For Captaincy Of This Hearty Vessel. Heave, HO!
Also, I Have Time, and I Have Enough, and I Am Enough.
– o –
my new Ahhhhh:
~ yesterday, I Remembered to “Live in the Now”. Will try that again today.
~ looking back, however briefly, I see just How Far I’ve come in the past year!
today’s Hard:
~ Roomie’s Bestie/NBA came over before 9 am and occupied all kinds of emotional space where *I* most certainly didn’t welcome her. WUSIT?
OTOH (Ahhhh) – I just wanted to scream, but I didn’t, until after she’d left.
~ My Cold Monsters are having a field day – “high of 17F today” and hours of route driving to do.
~ Blessings to all, and especially Me.
HELLO FRIDAY!
HELLO CHICKEN!
HELLO NEW YEAR!
[—]
What’s been working?
+Rainbow Maps! I have realized/released! the Map of Unicorn Sparkle and tacked up the U-Map of Riot Cane. Yeah! Yeah! Fuck YEAH!
+Following the Cabin Schedule. If nothing else, there is this!
+Letting my body do what it’s going to do instead of freaking out when it doesn’t do what I think it should (how about that?!)
+Flipping the Switch (so far, so good!)
+Writing a “fuck you” shark draft* before writing the “excuse me, did you mean to throw that shoe?” version 😀
(*“shark draft”: coined by an anonymous 9 year old; refers to a draft that you write where you can say anything you want because a shark is going to come along and eat it before anyone ever sees it)
Next time I might…
+Keep that switch flipped off!
+D-Book!
+Not freak out when I can’t sleep (remember! freaking out is way more exhausting than not sleeping.)
Breathing for the tangles, the unsolved mysteries, the enigmas.
+Breathing for the Past Me who hadn’t found the Switch. Breathing for the Future Me who knows what happens if we use it for a long time, or any amount of time. Breathing for the Me Right Now who knows, and says YES to it.
+Breathing for the Clothesline of Slothery. It is what it is. But why? Because it is.
+Breathing for the Mysterious Disappearance of Agent Goodbar. What the fucking fuckery fucknoodles? Breathing.
+Breathing into the Mystery of Pegasus Blue. Breathing compassion for the me for whom this has become a Mystery. Breathing into the Toolbox. Breathing into the Hammock. Breathing into the Safe Room. Yes.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Banana Tar. Breathing for the Walrus who acquired the Potions and hasn’t used them yet. Breathing for the Piles of Peels. Breathing hope, breathing compassion, breathing love, breathing healing.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Checkerboards. Breathing for the me who needs this. Breathing Big Fat Permission Slips. Breathing.
+Breathing for the Me Who Was Sick, and the Me Who Was Recovering, and the Me Who Is Still Recovering. Breathing for the disrupted sleep cycles.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Shabbasaurus, the Omnivorous Dinosaur of the Diaspora. Breathing for every fucking Christmas song which Shabbasaurus patiently masticated. Breathing for every fucking time someone told me how I should feel about being wished a “Merry Christmas”, and breathing appreciation for Shabbasaurus quietly chomping their faces off so I didn’t have to do it 🙂
Breathing for the donuts, the delights, the rainbows all around me.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Nose Boner (solved!) YES! Breathing for the solution to this mystery being the biggest fractal flower EVER. Oh. Fuck. Yes.
+Breathing for the Arrival of Zir Royal Majesty Whose Name Is Known Only to Me. 😀
+Breathing for the Past Me who gave Present and Future Me the magical gift of the Bee Light. BIG HUGE HUGS for this Past Me! Yeah! Yay!
+Breathing for the Reactivation of DJ Bananarchy! Breathing for Agent Planet making that happen! Breathing for the songs, the songs, the songs!
+Breathing for the giant plate of cookies I baked for myself last night just because I fucking CAN.
+Breathing for Operation OAA. OHMYGOD I’m so excited about this!!!!!
+Breathing for all the great books that I will read this year! YAY BOOKS!
+Breathing for how honestly, truly, genuinely excited I am about 2016. YEAH!!!!
Showering myself with sparklepoints. MAKE IT RAIN.
I am so fucking proud of myself right now I can’t even contain it in [containers]. Giant paintbrush strokes of every sparkling color smearing sparklepaint all over the fucking place. FUCK YES.
SUPERPOWERS! Channelling all the Original Superpowers for this year. Anchoring myself in them. Flipping the Discovery Switch, too. Rocking the fuck out.
Soaking in a hot tub infused with Potion de Je Suis Parfait. FUCK YEAH.
And the fake band of the week is… Sentient Spaghetti Hands! They’ve just released their new album, The Lord’s Spaghetti, which you can purchase at the merch table to the left of the entrance.