Hello, week: we are here.
{a breath for being here when we get here}
Wow, this week, you guys. What a week of high contrast, for me at least. The dark bits very dark, the light flooding in. I am so grateful for this chicken space to just let it all go, where we can integrate the wisdom and say whoosh-goodbye to everything that is done.
Thank you, week!
This is the 401st week in a row we are chickening here together!
What worked this week?
Asking the right questions, like what do I know about dilemmas and what if this dilemma is not in fact a dilemma!
What else worked? Having an (imaginary) secret agent make lists for me and give me one step at a time. I get overwhelmed and have trouble prioritizing things, but she doesn’t…
Next time I might…
Ohmygod, don’t click. Why do I click on things. It is never good. Or, it so rarely good. I keep thinking of the rats in experiments who push for food pellets, except in this case 90% of the time it’s poison, so pushing is not advised.
Naming the days.
This week was the week of finding the ease, and here were the days:
Bells know. Extreme self-treasuring. Finding the ease. Interesting adventure! Surprise joy. Relaxed and positive. Sweetness comes in.
Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…
Could Leave Bed To Acquire Food But Would Have To Leave Bed So….
8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Being in the hard pattern that is hard. A breath for how hard it is.
- My secret dance op in Seattle was frustrating and isolating and not worth the work of getting there. It was a very effective op in terms of teaching me about what not to do (don’t follow half-yeses!), and also in terms of getting me to be someone who can take better care of herself, and I hope the learning gets easier. A breath for me.
- Visiting the [Egyptian Straits], or the dark and narrow places, the downs, choose a geographical metaphor for the place that is constricted and when I am there I cannot see its beauty nor remember what is good. A breath for ease, trust, moving through, getting my passport stamped and being on my way again.
- Craving closeness, sweetness, affection, warmth. Everyone in my life is suddenly distant. It is my job to access these qualities on my own, and this is right, and at the same time, I long to be in the arms of the beautiful faraway cowboy who (monsters say) just wants to forget me. A breath for trust, again.
- Zero energy and too much pain and no motivation to get out of bed. A breath for acknowledgment, permission, and remembering that Now Is Not Then: needing a Bed Day or three is a perfectly reasonable reaction to [life stuff], and not a diagnosis.
- I am so endlessly fascinated by the Rigged Game, how it is so powerful in convincing us that it is not rigged. For example, I have been alive for four decades, so it’s kind of weird that I am still surprised EVERY SINGLE TIME
something takes significantly longer than I think it should, even though this happens so many times a day that it is the only normal I know. Also I have officially reached the limit of my ability to live out of suitcases stacked in a tiny packed basement storage room, I spend a disproportionate amount of my time desperately searching for things I need and not finding them, and it is the worst. A breath for spaciousness, in a variety of forms. - So many dilemmas! A breath for sweet, simple, surprise solutions.
- 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.
- Secret Agent Cheerio Worth stepped in, with good cheer, of course, and made everything better. Well, Agent Cheerio Worth and the Bed Day Fairy! Which sounds like a children’s book that I want to read. The point is that even in the dark places, the self-fluency training of the past decade is strong enough that my creative playful spark is still there, even in the dark, and I am able to find ways to access presence and play and wise guidance. A breath of joy for this.
- A long talk with Agent Spalding (who is real, by the way) led me to the most marvelous epiphany! Which is so funny, because I had just asked for Ease and Es. And then received exactly that in the form of epiphanies that deliver ease. How beautiful is that? The epiphany, which is hard to explain, as any good epiphany is, because it sounds so obvious, is that I am not in fact an irresponsible fuck-up. And, moreover, the story about how I am an irresponsible fuck-up is not even my story, it’s a story my mother would tell about me when she was worried about me, and it isn’t true. And she probably only told it because she thought saying the fear might prevent it from happening. Guess what! I don’t need to carry this story which is not mine and is not true. I am shedding stories in the story shed, and this is big work, and maybe that’s what required so much bed rest. A breath of appreciation for the magical thing that is perspective, and how it leads to easing and releasing.
- I’m not an irresponsible fuck-up! I’m someone who has interesting adventures! These are not the same thing! And interesting adventures naturally lead to recovering in bed, and recovering in bed is a healthy form of self-treasuring and of integrating the work of the interesting adventure! Anyway, to quote the arborist on an entirely different topic, “either I’m a fool or brilliant, who knows and who cares”. A breath of boundless joy for all of this.
- Lots of good dance stuff this week. Two absolutely mind-blowing workshops with Benji Schwimmer (can we all take a few minutes and watch him back in 2002!). A fantastic night of blues dancing to an amazing live band, who did a seven minute version of TEMPTATION, while I was lucky enough to be paired with one of my very favorite dance partners. We just destroyed that song. And the west coast swing dance night which is pretty hit or miss (mostly miss) was surprise big magic. A breath for wild panther prowess.
- Got rhyme put in my handbag while at the blues dance. Except I didn’t learn that excellent turn of phrase until the next morning, so I wasn’t able to describe it as well, but basically yes, someone wrote a poem about me and left it in my (open) dance bag. I don’t feel particularly piqued about having a secret admirer but it is charming to be someone who has rhyme written about them, and given all the monster stories this week of Everyone Is Over You, that was a good reminder that no, in fact, people write poetry for me, so there. A breath for being seen.
- Being in the hard pattern that is hard means I am gathering so much intel about how it works, and how to change it! This is good. Really really good. A breath for changing the video game while I am in it.
- So far this week all of my dilemmas have been solved by realizing there is in fact no dilemma. A breath of relief and gratitude!
- Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of all big smiles, coming up with a new plan and a place to live, being wonderfully wrong about things, cheese. 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!
Hey so Operation Bell View Switch was not a total disaster, and now I never need to do it again!
Small but vital steps on the Studio Op and The Fountaining. Thinking hard about operation Wild Wild Nest. Operations Jubilation and Wild Montage still ongoing. No news on The Wild Convening but I trust things are moving underground. Thank you, fractal flowers.
I hereby bestow 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 taking exquisite care of myself, more than I think I need, and doing this first. And I got exactly that, which is kind of miraculous, and also might be why I just let myself catch up on a few years of sleep this week.
I also had the surprise power of Nothing To Solve, because my dilemmas turned out not to be dilemmas at all, which was so good, more of that please.
Powers I want.
I want all the powers of deep abiding trust. I want to trust my instincts, trust the earth, trust change, trust in All Is Well.
And, related, I want to send my worries on a two week vacation to a tropical island. They are welcome to stay longer of course, but let’s start with that. And no popping back in on the pretext of having forgotten a parasol!
The Salve of Nothing To Solve
This salve smells delicious, like springtime and hopefulness, excitement and newness. It is wonderfully soothing. It frees up so much energy that was previously tied up in problem-solving and agonizing over pros and cons that you have to go frolic!
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band comes to us by way of Agent Spalding:
Dirty Commie Claptrap
It’s a ska band, their latest album is Reincarnated Mermaids, and this band is just one guy.
TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS!
We are doing some reconfiguring and Congruencing, and the shop will disappear VERY SOON, so if there was something you wanted to buy, go ahead and do that before it’s gone. More explanations about [reasons] to come, but it’s all good stuff, and if something is speaking to you, this is a good time. And if you’re not on the list, get on the list because I might tell them first…
And last chance to acquire a pack of stone skipping cards because I’m moving out and won’t have anywhere to store them or the shipping materials, so get them this week! And while you’re at it, sign up for the not-exactly-a-course where we embark on establishing a loving playful practice of self-inquiry, to access previously-hidden gems of internal wisdom and whatever else we might need. Dates coming soon!
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!
It is Friday and I am going on holiday!
The hard:
– always takes longer to recover than I think it should. I think I’m still recovering from the middle of March which in itself was a sign that I needed to recover from the end of February
– (mostly not feeling that I am awful, but very low in energy)
The good:
– fabulous new dress with pattern of ginkgo leaves in magenta and purple
– sudden expansion of spring in all directions
– sweet pea shoots
What worked:
– tracking
– setting things up for myself/giving myself things to look forward to/making plans for years ahead
– re-reading old, old blog posts from friends
Hello, Friday! Thank you, week.
What worked? Choosing sleep.
Next time I might acknowledge the limits sooner.
Hard, frustrating, etc.
* Catching fibs — and having to let them go for the greater good.
* Missing out on friends performing to honor other obligations.
* I know what [x] should sound like, and my voice won’t be there by the performance date.
* I like to think I put up a good front, but it adds tiresome to the tired when people then think I didn’t do [y] because I don’t care.
* Encountering yet again the assumption that because I’m married, my husband can or will take care of [z]. Our society has such a long way to go, and the icebergs may win out before we get there.
* I wish I felt more confidence in the subcontractors.
* When the lamb special contains like a 5:1 ratio of onions to lamb.
* Got up early. Still was late.
Good, delightful, etc.
* Bagful of lemons. Replenishing the brine.
* New frying pan.
* Waiting out gridlock with magazines and cookbooks.
* Tax prep DONE.
* Inspection DONE.
* Fit in some textbook time. Over fried calamari, no less.
* Blooming pepper plants.
* Sharing bottles of wine with the husband.
Warm wishes to all y’all.
My eye skimmed over the title of your post and my brain made it into: running out of brave before breakfast. Wait, I said to myself, did that say Brave or did it say Brains? Running out of brains before breakfast? Oh, dear.
I’m really glad to look back and find that it was neither.
The Hard:
Too much going out. And then my friend that I love starts to bug me.
Thinking I was meeting 2 friends out and winding up at a table for 11 like some kind of Thanksgiving Dinner with strangers when really you just wanted to stand by the jukebox and play your favorite songs.
The Good:
A Person that I hadn’t seen in a while reappeared and my self centered belief of “I am the reason he stopped coming around and he will never talk to me again” turned out to not be true.
My friends conspiring to let the two of us have time and space to talk in the midst of the crowd. A breath for people who love me and want me to be happy.
No traveling for a while. Home. Bed. My stuff.
Juke boxes.
Wonderful clients.
Chicken for this sunny day!
The hard:
– Long line of iguanas
– Most iguanas, when confronted, morph into a single liberated iguana happily bouncing away, and one or more grumpy iguana seesters still remaining and taking up space in the line
– Iguana skills in appearing larger and scarier than they are, especially the totally ridiculous ones faking large and scary by wearing their official lanyards with their official Rigged Game Agent IDs
– Actual Large and Scary Iguanas
The good:
– This week’s salve
– This week’s happily bouncing defused iguanas
– Fuzzball Monsters are/were willing to consult about iguana liberation
– Realizing again the huge value of sufficient white space in motivation towards iguana liberation efforts. I shall elevate the importance of, and therefore interest in, any iguana liberation action that simultaneously helps free up white space.
so much good iguana intel! and way to recognize the Rigged Game Agent IDs!! <3
O happy Friday! Thank you for the salve; it’s lovely.
Hard stuff:
–Suddenly my blog *and* Twitter are behaving very oddly on my smartphone, and I haven’t yet figured out why.
–Stubborn pattern! I was able to play with it and shift things a little bit, and I award myself many sparklepoints for that.
Good stuff:
–An event that I had been anticipating with anxiety turned out to be a case of Nothing to Solve, complete with Pleasant Surprises!
–I am appreciated, and I *feel* appreciated.
–Finally put some fresh henna in my hair, and I love it.
What worked? Reaching for the pen instead of the phone. Next time? More of the same, please. Let’s see where this goes.
<3
Bye week!
Sucky:
Bye week!
Sucky:
Messiness at workplace. Leaving, and it is the right thing, and also
that job has been a home to me and it hurts.
All round feeling missunderstood, let down and screwed over.
Asking other people for what I needed (reassurance, attention, to take over my cash register for 10 minutes so I can go pee…) and not getting it.
Also the “omg I so am standing in class privilege of course the other fast food employees hate my multilingual, vegan, 10-syllable-words-spewing
guts“ monstertrack)
Good:
It is all lessons in clarity and I see that and say thank you
Biking.
“Agent Cheerio Worth and the Bed Day Fairy” is a children’s book title I absolutely want to read! While driving to Cannon Beach last week passed a sign indicating the road to Brownsmead. Great name for my jaunty, posh traveling alter-ego: Brownsmeade Cynwrig-Davies, Brownie to her friends. She is organizing a trip to New Zealand where she’ll spend 4 days canoeing down the Whanganui.
The Road to Brownsmead would make a great book title too. Maybe the story of how Agent Brownsmead Cynwrig-Davies discovered her seekrit identity and her seekrit mission. Or maybe Brownsmead is a place down the road from Hogsmead…
<3 <3
So good! That road has the best clue-signs! <3
Hard: me still needing to rant and also that the cause of the rant even existed.
My husband almost died of medical neglect even though he sees 14 specialists; they kept referring and deferring to one another and not listening to me. We’ve been married for 40+ years and I know things about him that they don’t teach in medical school.
The same thing almost happened to my mother-in-law and the only reason it didn’t is because I intervened.
The weird: I made a change in my husband’s treatment plan and then told the nurse practitioner about it and how it was working; later got a call from her office saying that she wanted him on exactly that new plan. CYA?
The good: Significant improvement over a short period of time. Access to knowledge and information via the internet and other resources so I could figure out what was wrong, and courage to let the medical people know what needed to happen.
More bookshelves!
Spring!
Trips planned. Something to look forward to!
Cluck cluck!
Yes for the Nothing To Solve salve!
I’ll just pour it into a tub and bathe in it, if you don’t mind.
The hard of this week:
– A difficult client that first went MIA for almost 2 weeks, and then didn’t even read my last report (that I put a lot of effort into, because it’s important). Sigh.
– My conference talk was accepted as a backup, and now I need to decide if I even want to go there, with all the days off, transportation money, lodging money and food money that I need to spend for a tiny possibility that I will end up on stage. It’s not a 100% yes, and I’m still not sure if I feel like I deserve to accept only the things that are 100% yes.
– {silent retreat}
– {more silent retreat}
– I don’t feel like I’m good enough of a teacher to my students. I know it’s my first time in an environment like this, but still, not good enoughness is strong.
– Someone promised to send some info this week, and didn’t.
– Next week was supposed to be my sabbatical week, but it’s just not happening because clients (see above) are dragging their feet, and I don’t know how to manage that.
The good of this week:
+ A client that’s a dream to work with accepted my proposed plan of action, and we’re starting soon, yay!
+ Met up with a woman I’ve been chatting with online for a while and we’ve had a great conversation. More people like this in my life, please!
+ Walks in the woods make everything better.
+ Decluttering and throwing stuff away (physical and digital), oh what joy.
+ Lots and lots of alone time.
+ While technically, yes, I did work on a Saturday, I tackled all the pesky Iguanas that were waiting for months and it was never the right time, and while the pile has not yet vanished, it’s a lot smaller.
+ Went out for a beer in our local pub, and were surprised with a concert that was actually really good.
Superpowers I want this week: Every Day Is A Sabbatical.
I’d like ways of bringing Sabbatical qualities into my everyday life, and doing things I’ve planned to do on my Sabbatical even though I also have other work to do. And no, I’d like to not get sick and lie in bed all week.
All of March I thought about the superpower of “knowing pleasure is healing” and all the different ways it might manifest. One thought I had was maybe I was going about this whole exchange-time-for-money thing wrong, that what I was looking for was fine but maybe I would believe in myself more if I went for something I found pleasurable. So I slightly shifted focus to that more pleasurable thing and was moving faster. On the 30th, I went to a book club discussing the more pleasurable thing. I hadn’t read the book, but was familiar enough with the topic to participate, and someone who had said there were four points to the author’s argument, the fourth of which was “pleasure.” !!! Going home and feeling all the synapses connect, I was high.