Hello, week: we are here.
{a breath for being here when we get here}
Thank you, week!
This is the 396th week in a row we are chickening here together….
What worked this week?
Changing the metaphor in order to ease my painful anxiety about entering a dance competition. I’m in Monaco on a wild caper to recover the jewels, and when in Monaco, one might as well gamble at the fabulous casino…
It’s just part of the gig, it doesn’t actually matter if I win or lose, only that I act like I belong there. Whatever the results of my evening of gambling, it all supports my mission. The comp is not the point, it’s just part of my cover story.
This is the best!
Today, for example, I bribed Lady Ellerton’s secretary to put me on the guest list at the party at the Ellerton mansion (translation: I paid the entry fee to a dance convention), then explored the casino in Monaco (the hotel where the competitions are taking place), and even attended a three hour seminar on how to maintain a good poker face (or what judges look for in comps, which is actually kind of the same thing).
I also acquired my chips (registered for my first two competitions!), so this weekend I shall be gambling (competing) in a glamorous casino (not a casino), looking smashing, not giving a fig about how I do, because I’m there to enjoy myself!
And now I’m suddenly and miraculously not stressed out about competing. Play is healing, and changing the metaphor is so liberating and I am a genius, the end!
Next time I might…
Remember that the national Day of Uncontrollable Sobbing — which I celebrated correctly — very often coincides with four days before moon time.
Naming the days.
This week was the week of true currency, and here were the days:
Outrageous self-love. Beautiful day. Wild and serene. Sanctuary is mine. A day for me and my yes. All smiles. Gambling in Monaco.
Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…
We’re Over Here Now, Turn The Page.
8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- More mystery injuries and mystery scratches. A breath for this.
- Got followed on the street by a catcaller, for two blocks. I’m a woman, so it’s not like this is the first time some creep has followed me, but this was different because it was on my street. It was only 7pm but pitch dark, and I was so discombobulated that I panicked and disassociated and ended up running to a neighbor’s house, after which I somehow made it to a nearby shop where I texted my former housemate to come get me and drive me the few blocks home. A breath for safety first, and for grounding. And for the quiet revolution.
- Knowing that this person knows where I live (he saw me exit my house) freaked me out to no end, and for several days I was on edge and not able to fall asleep for ages. A breath for these…. what should we call this, side effects of misogyny and patriarchy? For these terror symptoms and for what they point to. And a breath for healing.
- So as you know, I am leaving my home, and what’s next is a mystery. I had two good possible plans for where I might spend March, neither was 120% yes or even close, but both were perfectly acceptable, and then both fell through on the same day, within hours of each other. Wise quiet me knows that this is all for the best and these are the right doors to be closing so that I can see the ones that need opening. But me who has had the rug pulled out from under her so many times was, while not remotely surprised, reminded of old pain. A breath for trust, clear seeing, true yes, All Is Well and Now Is Not Then.
- Two people dear to my heart misunderstood me this week in such profound ways, and both had been carrying around a false story about me for weeks without bringing it up, so that it became embedded as truth in their minds, with no way for me to offer another side. This was very painful, and also whoa entirely new layers of my stuff about being misread, and the ensuing IMPENDING DOOM that my monsters are convinced is imminent. A breath for me from then, a breath for me from now, a breath for truth, a breath for my light and my steadfast loving heart, may they be seen and appreciated.
- Perhaps not entirely unrelated to the above but 94% related to an obscenely painful bout of PMS, this week featured two days of overwhelming rage at everything, followed up by two days of intense grief and crying my eyes out. And I don’t mean just tears. I mean Desperate Sobbing and everyone at the diner looking awkwardly at the ceiling because my grief was so all-consuming and messy and uncomfortable. Among the many, many things that had me sobbing include: the bar kokhba rebellion, yes, even though it was two thousand years ago, I’m still upset about it. Also that if Hillary Clinton were a man, everyone would be say, “okay sure, he’s a thousand times more qualified, more presidential, more talented, more capable, more everything than anyone else, so this thing is over”, but instead I have to listen to otherwise intelligent people saying they won’t vote at all if she gets the nomination. I’m going to stop here, because it was a long list, let’s just say everything made me cry. A breath for permission to grieve whatever my body needs to grieve.
- So many times I can’t even hear my yes because too many monsters, and then I just make monster-fueled decisions, and here’s an example of how this turns out: I won’t pay $25 for a cab ride, when I can just take public transit, and what would have been a fifteen minute ride turns into a two hour debacle, during which AT ANY POINT I would have paid $25 to just get out of that situation. For example while stranded on a non-moving train with twenty screechy cheerleaders and their moms, all with matching side ponytails. Or while waiting in the pouring rain for a bus that was twenty five minutes late and still fourteen minutes away. Not only would I have paid the $25, I would have paid to buy an actual car, drive home, and then later drive it off a cliff because to hell with cars. In the moment it seemed like a reasonable plan. The point is, this all happened because instead of getting quiet and tuning in to my yes, I let my monstering determine my course of action. A breath for hey maybe this time I will learn this lesson well enough to not repeat it, and a breath for compassion, because rewriting the rigging is hard work.
- 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.
- Playing the “find eight good things” game at the afterparty all week. Appreciation-breath.
- Metaphor magic! I have gone from TERRIFIED of competing (just yesterday) to actively excited and looking forward to it because I’m going to destroy it out there at the blackjack table by having the time of my life, and it is going to be awesome, whether that is acknowledged by the outside world or not. A breath for speedy transformation, and for the beautiful healing that comes from play, and acknowledging the power of words.
- We finally got the house ready to show and posted the ad for the house! May we find the most wonderful renters in the world, amen. A breath of thankfulness.
- And miraculously, I am not falling apart even though I still have zero idea where I’m going to live or any details about anything, and I’m not worrying, which is the superpower — the superpower of I Have Forgotten How To Worry — that I’ve been asking for all these weeks. A breath for things can change faster than you think, and for being receptive to perfect simple solutions.
- Dancing up a storm. Last weekend I danced nine and a half hours in one day and I can’t remember how many the next. Tango workshops, zouk workshops, nightclub two step, blues, ballroom. DELIGHT. Ankle is fine. I feel good. A breath for this big joy.
- The thing I was most worried might be happening over the past few weeks is not actually happening, and there was a good explanation for why I thought it could be happening, this is a relief and a good reminder to breathe and trust in All Is Well. A breath for clarity.
- I got back to my lost yeses. A breath of gratitude.
- Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of sweet words and good clues. 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!
More progress this week on the Studio Op, Wild Montage, and The Fountaining. Set off to Monaco to retrieve the jewels! Percolating on the Wild Wild Nest and Operation Jubilation. 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 I Have Completely Forgotten How To Worry, To The Point That I Can’t Even Remember What It Is Like, and the powers of I Think I Am Completely Utterly Wildly Amazing.
And yes, I had these for moments and glimpses, and once for an entire day, and it was incredible. More please!
Powers I want.
I still want new dance friends to go dancing with: All The Right People To Play With Show Up, or the superpower of Just Right Companionship.
And mainly I want the superpower of Oh This Is Great News, and I want it about everything.
The Salve of Playful Rewriting.
This salve is made of:
Play. Possibility. Presence. Pleasure. Chocolate.
Put some on at night and release everything that is done while you sleep, and smile in your dreams.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is my favorite:
Retrospectively Pugilistic
Their latest album is Kitsch N Karaoke, and it turns out this band is just one guy.
TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS!
We are doing some reconfiguring and Congruencing, and the shop will disappear 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 this is the last chance to acquire a pack of stone skipping cards — PASSWORD: sweetdoors — because I’m moving out and won’t have anywhere to store them or the shipping materials, so get them this week, they’re amazing! 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!
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“Also that if Hillary Clinton were a man, everyone would be say, “okay sure, he’s a thousand times more qualified, more presidential, more talented, more capable, more everything than anyone else, so this thing is over”, but instead I have to listen to otherwise intelligent people saying they won’t vote at all if she gets the nomination”
Deeply with you on this, I can’t stop ranting. The bizarre good news is that my relatives who are evangelical Republican women completely agree on this too, keep saying “she’s THE STATESMAN,” despise Trump, and already know they’re voting for her.
It’s that hipster sexism that just likes to politely and quietly erase women with a diversion that sounds like good intentions and logic, but when examined shows the presence of only the former.
yes, thank you for this.
i had been questioning myself on the hillary thing, like “am i crazy or is she just that good?”
palms on the ground _M_.
what a trooper, a leader-lady-boss.
“hipster sexism” — excellent term for something that has been making my skin crawl.
I am not publicly declaring any personal viewpoint on anything political related, but I will say that my grandmother, whose 100th birthday is in July, has LITERALLY waited an entire century for the chance to vote in a woman as president and she’s pretty goddamn excited about it.
!!!!!!!!!
YES to all this and what Havi wrote above. Thank you <3
Epic Phase One Sulk. Except then I noticed it and stopped trying to stop it and allowed it to be an Epic Phase One Sulk and it magically turned into an amused Phase Two or maybe Phase One Point Five Constructive Noticing.
Hurrah for Kat, who said ‘What ze fuck…?’ in the fantastic histrionic French way that I would have loved to say it myself.
I am due at least two days staring at my own toes and not thinking very much, and I don’t get them until Monday. I think I am also due a crash, and I am hoping it will not be too horrible or last too long.
Many headaches this week, mostly caused by my not being kind to myself.
Going to bed at one and waking at six and lying awake inspecting the inside of my head.
I am at the seaside. This is very good.
I guess I’m in the Chicken of the Month club.
Good – Remembering self-care for tooth/jaw pain.
Co-starring role in two three-hour performances of Major Project: This Could Be a Blessing for Everyone – Act 1. Saturday’s matinee ran over. Very tiring, and mainly out of my area of expertise. Too many people. The Dude took me out for dinner that night, and I took myself out the night after.
Completed – Act 2 wherein we see all 3 stars and D the R take the Next Step.
Preparing for the tech rehearsal of Act 3: Red, Red Robin. And before the Curtain of the Last Act, putting the Living on Less Game away and starting The Blessing Game, a happier, more fun game.
Taking the neighbors candy in appreciation for putting up with the aggravation.
Buying lottery tickets while I am feeling amazingly lucky. Wasn’t.
Also buying myself a bento bowl with yummy wasabi after delivering the cactus. (Not a metaphor.)
What Worked – Helping Miss Edna tuck the Monsters in before she read them “The Say Yes Monkeys in Monkey Pyjamas”. I think it’s an energetic and funny story but it puts Monsters to sleep, which is what I wanted because they were Acting Up the night before my first performance.
Sparklepoint showers when necessary.
Feeling the feelings. The Dude is supportive and huggable.
Talking to and e-mailing my sister.
Keeping everyone in the loop.
Hard – Tooth/jaw pain with swelling is taking over a week to go away, but it’s mostly gone.
Maintaining boundaries. D’s irritation at C is not anything I can help with, even though it has to do with the Major Project.
Preparing the paperwork for the Big Uncles – done.
This is a Super Chicken because I think I am Completely Amazing, and the Scientists have Solid Evidence.
And I think someone applied the salve to me, because I started writing about the Major Project play before you posted about it, Havi!
Samedi shalom! Toda raba, semaine.
What worked this week? Proceeding with a task even though I correctly anticipated the confrontation doing so would precipitate. Proceeding with other tasks at my own pace, even though that is considerably slower than the monster brigade considers acceptable.
What might I try next time? I am going to rename M. Toxic as M. Training. I shall spin their attempts to make my head spin into gold-threads for splendid tapestries.
Hard, stomach-churning, self-dimming, and the like:
1. Mishegossen
2. Mold on peach pie
3. Work trumping working out
4. Lands End WTF
5. I wish I felt more confidence/trust in [a], [b], [c]…
6. Fretting about how I’m going to protect the plants.
7. Wondering if I’m wasting my time, because one of the hocks may be infected.
8. The whole UT closing ranks around Peyton Manning and the rest of its toxic culture has me yelling at the gods about slacking on their smiting duties.
Good, reviving, and the like:
1. It is close enough to Pesach to plant radishes.
2. The weather today is perfect for yardwork and noodling around the hood.
3. Says You bringing the giggles to my lunch. Little Women quips…
4. Lunch with honorary mama earlier this week, and champagne with her children tomorrow.
5. My first Sunday dance went well.
6. The timing of a gig is going to work out so that I can take a bus tour that’s been on my wishlist.
7. Spotting rogue tulips in the back yard.
8. I don’t have to rush to anywhere today!
Sending wishes for safety and solace to all y’all.
Play is healing — oh, yes!
Hard: there is so much about the current political climate that disturbs me. Also I got some news that made me anxious. And there are a number of of ongoing things that trouble my tranquility.
Good: I voted today, and it felt good. Love, beauty, and pleasure are always within reach, and that *does* make a difference.
Yay for Changing the Metaphor, because wow do I need that for the thing causing me mucho anxiety right now! I’ve been halfheartedly trying to rename it and then forgetting the name over and over (does this ever happen to you?) and then I read this today and realized, OH I actually need to give the whole thing some major symbolic surgery. With lots of laughing gas… XD
In other words, you are a metaphor genius and thank you.
Also I have developed a habit of doing my chickens in my notebook, then coming here and reading yours, and always leave with insights and some nice salve. So lovely and appreciated!
I’m pretty fed up with the medical establishment; even when they know what works medically, they ignore things like being supportive and allowing for individual differences. The only exception is Dr S.
When there aren’t any signs or directions and you go the wrong way and then get penalized…. yeah, that. Ignorance is expensive.
I’m pretty down about some other stuff too. Dammit.
On the other hand…
Bro put up 60feet of shelving in the downstairs bedroom this evening.
We bought more lumber for more shelves and also so he can repair the stairs.
There’s a sale that, if we take advantage of it, will be the first step towards a thing I’ve fantasized about.
MrB has been in remarkably good spirits and good health all week, taking an interest and wanting to be involved. Suddenly he’s fun to be around again.
We saw some Star Wars shower heads: R2D2 squirting water is actually in character but the Darth Vader mask makes me laugh and shiver, both.
Ahh, it’s been a while since I did this..
The challenging:
– Frustrated by this project I’m working on that has already taken up way more time than I charged for, and we’re not even halfway through. I’m considering not working for agencies again because they can’t keep their clients in check, and the money’s just not worth it anymore.
– Rain all week, I’m missing long walks in the forest a lot.
– My teaching engagement was supposed to start next week, and is postponed because they haven’t enrolled enough students. At the same time, I’m going to miss out on so much fun stuff (like, PJ Harvey and Florence) because they coincide with my class.
The good:
+ This Friday I was a writing fiend! I typed a post on my phone at 3am, and then wrote two more posts during the day. This is after 2 months of not much writing, and it’s so good to be back.
+ Old clients who refer me to new people, yay!
+ Date night at the pub we don’t usually go to, to break the routine.
+ Doodling like it’s my job. In a way, it is.
Superpower I’d like this week: Choosing Presence Over Distraction
Ooooh, Monaco! How very glamorous and exciting and wonderful! I am just filled with delight for you! <3 <3 <3 !!!
Sometimes the chickens arrive on Sunday.
The Difficult:
Arranging things so that I do stuff by myself and then feeling lonely when I do things by myself.
Money stuff. Monsters wondering why we can’t get this one right.
The Better:
Always finding someone to talk to when I do go to the things by myself. And my friends are always there when I get back.
Every day, every minute is a chance for me to do things differently.
So much sleep, finally.
Getting better at the things I am learning.
Metaphors —> HOORAY!!! Lots of appreciation.
What worked? Cleaning joyfully! Fantastic company! Sitting with my anger until it made sense. Keepin’ on tryin’.
Next time I might… Try to remember Sweet Rest.
Hard things…
-Not remembering Sweet Rest was/is very uncomfortable and difficult and frustrating and disappointing
-Seeming inability to express what I mean! And extreme knack for accidentally conveying what I DON’T mean! And ensuing super painful misunderstandings! WTF?? AAAARGH. Whew. Deep breaths for this… May I trust my own good intentions. May I forgive myself. May I tenaciously continue noticing/changing patterns. May I trust the rabbit holes. May I have COURAGE in finding what I may not wish to find. May I remember love.
-Giant changes… when it rains, it pours.
Happy things…
-Living a heart-wrenching cliffhanger, just now in a pivotal plot twist. Watching someone I love realize he is not alone and realize what made him. Listening. Insane horrible things make sense now and vanish. Shit is real.
-Remembering patience.
-Clean kitchen!
-Enormous gratitude.
Monday chicken is still tasty!
what worked last week: hitting the showers. the most important piece of self-care lately is just saying Fuquet! and going to bed. did that svereal times, was lovely each time
the sucks:
-the ex and his bullshit
-unrelenting, unending No’s, in the way of my Yes
-having trouble zeroing in on Yes because of all the noise
-living in Bolivia is a pain in the ass. last week included anxiety, worry, anger, impatience regret re: the llamas. Also, llamas could be more self-reliant at this age.
-not exceling at anything
-working on Fire, being present with all my failures of will. uncomfrtable
but so much yes:
-ever since Pcon and the new moon, i’ve been dedicated to achieving at least one thing per day in pursuit of the year’s goals. i jhave managed this
-i have given myself a word count for the Gold Star Op, and done mpjo around it. lots of yes here, and success
-Hogwarts continues to be awesome
-so many opportunities to learn and practice. gratitude for new friends and teachers
-nice weather. winter’s not gone yet, but it’s a nice break
-much sweetness with the husband
-praxis and its rewards
-Yes revealing itself. new Yeses on the horizon
CHICKEN
CHICKEN
BOW CHICKEN BOW WOW
What’s working?
+Today I am Leaping, and it is working.
+making sure there’s always breakfast. ALWAYS GOOD!
+Rock Steady
I might like to try:
+remembering Change The Music, Change Your Luck
+Flipping the Switch, without picking at the wiring quite so much
+just letting my heart do its thing
Breathing for Mysteries.
+Breathing for the Mystery of My Foot Still Hurts Ow Ow Why. Breathing for the Why Me?!? of it all. Breathing for the stories about what this means and what I should do about it. Breathing for the me who just wants to whine until it’s over. Breathing for the me who wants to give stern glances to Whining Me.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Everything Is More Interesting Than Sleeping, Of Course. Deep hand-on-heart sigh!
+Breathing for the Mystery of I Came, I Saw, I Did Not Conquer [optq]. Why didn’t it work? Breathing for how completely out of my control that was. Breathing for the delight of getting to photograph puddles anyway.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Tetris Tree: The Evolution. Whoa.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Why Did I [ride to] That [Camel Dragon Spacebar]? I don’t think I want it. But here it is. Oops. Next Time, I will know.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Sneaky Pterodactyl Ghost. Yes, you are still bumping around, a little. It’s okay. You are welcome to do this.
+Breathing for the Mystery of [Knocking Over The Sand Castle]. Breathing for the me who defenestrated instantaneously. Breathing for the me who stayed in the room. Breathing for anyone else who might have been hurt. Breathing for the me who badly wants to say something. Breathing for the me who really, really doesn’t.
+Breathing for the Mystery of Butterfly Club. The first rule of Butterfly Club is WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT BUTTERFLY CLUB. {{radio silence}}
Breathing for Delights!
+Breathing for Rock Steady. FUCK YEAH!
+Breathing for BCBW, which I am definitely going to [listen to] about 13123012312093131231 times now.
+Breathing for So Close To [spaaaaaace!!!!!!!!!!] I Can Almost Touch It.
+Breathing for Operation Cat Boots 😀
+Breathing for Ben & Jerry’s non-dairy Chunky Monkey; OHMYGODDDDD. <3
+Breathing for Badass Survivor Me. HELLO.
+Breathing for Operation Pegasus Blue, which is back on track and moving along quite nicely, I’d say.
+Breathing for [Top Secret University]. YES YES YES.
And, without further ado, let’s welcome to the stage our Fake Band of the Week: The Soggy Nachos! Whose are they? NOT YO’S!