A breath for these tough times

Sending out extra wishes of Safety & Sanctuary for everyone in the path of the hard things, what a scary time we are in, inhaling and exhaling, for compassion, strength, courage, swift and steady miracles.

Announcement / last chance for Emergency Calming Down Techniques

I’ve been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and it’s been helping.

I am giving away a copy of these (ebook + audio recordings) to anyone who gives any sum of money to the appreciation funds / discretionary fund in the hopes that we can all keep practicing together, for each other and for the collective, and also for ourselves in these scary times. ❤️

Thank you for the dance, and the terrible zen

I think a lot about goodbyes

I think a lot about goodbyes, and what makes a good goodbye. If there is such a thing, as a good goodbye.

This makes me think about something a favorite yoga teacher used to say.

He would have us bring a lot of movement and play into downward dog, and then gradually slow it down or narrow the movements, until eventually you would come to the state of a still dog. Arriving at being a still dog.

A Still Dog!

If such a thing exists, he would always add, with a laugh.

You have to laugh

You have to laugh.

Because of course any living dog is in motion even when it is still. Still!

It is still in motion in the sense of there is ongoing motion within the stillness, and also still in the sense of still being a dog, because it has not stopped being a dog and there is the rippling and twitching of dog.

Our dog friend is not ever motionless even when it holds itself in one luxuriously stretched position, or even when asleep…

So the still dog is not a still dog, because it’s still a dog. Breathing, pulsing, innately in motion.

Similarly

Similarly, I think we can say that even the elusive good goodbye (if it exists) is still at the same time quite often hard and painful by virtue of the fact that it is still a goodbye, and endings are intense.

Whatever makes the good goodbye good, it is still, after all, the end.

Endings are intense. The never-again of it all. The non-still-ness of it all.

Sometimes even when an ending is dearly needed, or an ending is a liberation, or an ending is what is indicated, there can also be sadness in the finality.

What makes a good goodbye

It’s hard to know, I have had so few of them.

I know much more about what makes a bad goodbye bad.

Whether by virtue of the fact that it doesn’t happen, the non-suchness of it all.

Or when it is cold and bitter even though it could be sweet and loving in nature, despite the ending of the sweet and loving times.

Or the agonizing not-knowing surrounding an unclear disappearance or a vague non-explanation.

Or the bafflement of being around a person you knew so intimately who once seemed to embody certain qualities, and now is seemingly an entirely different person with a new and unfamiliar personality.

Do-overs

This week I was given the gift of do-overs for a goodbye from over ten years ago.

Or, I had the chance to partake in the goodbye the way I wished we had been able to say goodbye then.

They showed up at the agreed-upon place, we melted into each others arms and danced for ninety minutes without pause, except of course there is lots of pausing in dance in the same way that there is motion in stillness, but we did not pause our embrace.

And then the moment came when it had to end and we walked in our separate directions.

I understood what was said even though it wasn’t said

Not a single word was exchanged, but what I understood from the dance was that this person has forgiven me for what they were angry about ten years ago, that we still love each other, that we both know there is no possible way we could ever be involved again, and that this was our beautiful goodbye.

Our chance to hold each other and not-say the things that should have been said then but to feel them and to express them and to adore each other, and be amazed that we found each other for that period of time that was, and that we got to do it one last time.

It was transcendent.

We smiled at each other and breathed each other in and filled up on joy and longing and more joy, and danced our way to goodbye.

What can be learned from a good goodbye

A good goodbye can still hurt like hell. It is not a get out of jail free card from the heart pain.

I can fully confirm that this hurts a lot, and also say without doubt that it is the best goodbye I have ever had, and also it was maybe one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

A good goodbye is clarifying.

We both said everything we needed to say, we just didn’t use words, because we were in a mind-meld of mellifluous motion.

We were a still dog.

In the slowest of slow motion, playing in a state of quiet.

Regrets? Wishes? Dreamy dreaminess?

Do I wish the music had continued for another twelve hours? Yes.

Do I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye? Probably also yes.

But I got a good goodbye, and I needed it.

Healing inward, outward and through

I need this good goodbye, this beautiful glowing goodbye made of nothing but love and presence.

And mainly I need this good goodbye to be a healing not only for that relationship from then, and all the What Could Have Been, but for all the relationships that did not get their good goodbyes, or just goodbyes or any goodbyes…

I need this goodbye to be a healing for every time a beloved and I could have held each other all night and hugged it out and cried, and said YES WE LOVE EACH OTHER AND NO THIS IS NOT GOING TO WORK, and just let ourselves feel sad. But instead we were cold.

And I need this good goodbye to hold the essence of a good goodbye for all the awful times that I didn’t get a last conversation or a last hug or a last glance or a last something…

A terrible zen

A wonderful friend and I were talking the other evening about how sometimes you are forced to embody A Terrible Zen, when there is a hurricane in your life, for example…

Or sometimes the hurricane takes the form of a person you love and their mental illness or addiction or the combination of these.

There is simply nothing to be done, but keep on keeping on. You batten the hatches, take it minute by minute, survey the wreckage, keep moving some way some how.

Then there is all the post hurricane recovery, and The Terrible Zen of knowing there is nothing you could have done to make things different, there is nothing you can do now to prevent it from happening again, and there is nothing to be done generally.

The hurricane just is/was/exists as potential.

A funny coincidence

Right before the ninety minute dance that I wished would never end that I also knew was my one Good Goodbye, I mysteriously got locked out of my phone.

And then for three entire days I didn’t have a working phone, until that could be solved.

It was like going back to the 1990s. When I had a two hour drive to my uncle’s place, I had to look up what exit to take and then memorize the number. There were stops to ask a kind stranger for directions.

Analog time

I said my good goodbye that was also a heart-wrenching goodbye that was also one of the most beautiful and transcendent experiences of my life.

And then I was without technology for three days, so I couldn’t call anyone to talk about what had happened, or send texts that I shouldn’t, or turn to any of the usual distraction places to distract myself.

Instead I had to do analog activities like walk in the forest, do slow yoga in a narrow hallway, make tea, drink it slowly, daydream, cry, say come on baby girl snap out of it, watch the mesmerizing back and forth of my uncle and his friend playing ping pong.

And so on. I was a still dog, which is to say, always moving, but slowly and sometimes imperceptibly. The beautiful and terrible zen of that too.

Here’s to…

Keeping on keeping on. And some good analog time.

Saying thank you for the dance (and for The Dance).

Recognizing that there is space for these transcendent moments, and that just because not everyone can have that kind of goodbye with me doesn’t mean I can’t have these kind of goodbyes in my heart. Do-overs forever!

I can apply the sustenance and magic of a beautiful good goodbye to all the shitty goodbyes, the non-goodbyes, the hurtful endings.

Just knowing that this is possible feels very hopeful, even if it is also a form of the Terrible Zen.

Thank you for the dance

Thank you for the dance is also thank you for the terrible zen, and thank you for the terrible zen is also a form of dance, of motion within stillness.

Here’s to more delicious motion, and more delicious pauses, and something even better, and to love, and which sometimes co-exists with hurricanes.

It is brave to keep trying, and to keep movement alive, to add some sway to the stillness and some stillness within the sway, some presence and breath.

A hand-on-heart sigh for all of this. I hope you can feel some hopefulness with me, draw some hopefulness from the well…

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

Leave a pebble (o) to say you were here, so I know I’m not doing this alone.

Also it feels good to pick up a pebble and place it somewhere, I have noticed.

You are invited to share any related situations or musings of your own if you like, or name any wishes that are in process.

And of course you are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped, clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

This will pop up a new page on Follow.It that lets you subscribe via email, newsletter, or RSS reader. They say “expect 50 stories a week”, and that’s a very imaginary number, once a week is the dream.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

Anyone who gives to the Discretionary this week (more info below) will get my Emergency Calming Techniques package by email as a pdf. I am only checking email twice a week because I no longer have wifi at my place, long story, so be patient with me but if it doesn’t show up within the week then let me know!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to the Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️