Door of Restoration

The door before the door.

What is this space and what is this moment? Why are we here and why now
Visiting the door is how I like to meet the month. This time with the door is a healing which arrives through words but means more than the words, I never know what will come through (me or the door!) as I cross the threshold but it is always just right, and so here we are, admiring the door of Restoration…

Invocation.

I am asking Clarity to reveal itself and restore itself, restore how I see and perceive, restore crown memory.

Even now, in 111 degrees (43.8 degrees celsius aka too hot) in Las Vegas, my least-favorite American city, in full-blown heat-induced meltdown. Even in these places that can be so difficult and overwhelming, in all senses, aesthetic and sensory, political, internal, often all of these at once.

Even now, Clarity is already here, if I remember to invite her to show me what she sees:

Let me see me the [holy holiness] in this moment.

Yes, even in the shitty parts, metaphorically speaking though not only that — scatalogical foreshadowing? haha! maybe! — let all of it reveal the spark-glow of truth-love, the wisdom that lives in experience.

A revealing and restoring, and also re-storing.

Let Boundaries and Courage and all things restorative be restored.

Let each frightening or fiery moment reveal the next steps towards restoring what needs to be restored.

Door of Restoration, show your treasure. Reveal stars. Remind me to glow.

Let all that is mine return with love, and anything [not yes] or [not right now] can be restored to its rightful home.

The migraine that was not a migraine but a M.I.G.R.A.I.N.E.

After the Lyft ride with the driver whose grating voice, meandering stories and inability to take a hint made me want to hurl him off the nearest cliff, I made a note to carry with me at all times:

Time out! MIGRAINE!

Declaring Emergency Migraine & Immediate Time Out, my new favorite protocol, is especially important when I am already too intensely overwhelmed to be able to think up a polite way to tell someone they need to stop talking before I melt down and/or murder them.

Okay except what about Speak Truth?

Here’s how I see this. The migraine is not so much a lie as a useful translation into a phenomenon people understand, as opposed to Sensory Processing Sensitivity or I Feel All Energy, both of which require explaining and are often misunderstood anyway.

If I am on the receiving end of too much input and cannot possibly take in any more, this is exactly when a time-out is most vital, and also when I am least able to explain why I need it or to set boundaries for myself.

Though of course, this also works quite well as a preventative measure to halt the incoming migraine, the one that will show up if all this unwanted input doesn’t stop.

And, more importantly than that, this wonderfully succinct buffer phrase also contains secret magic in acronym form.

MIGRAINE = My [energy/time/headspace] Is Golden, Reducing Any Interference Now, Effortlessly!

This is how I stay true to being truthful, asking for what I need using whatever means work best in the moment, and improving on it next time.

Entry for Operation Sparks Restored.

Entry for the airport and the exit and the month of Restoration:

FIERCE & FEARLESS, POWERFUL & STRIKING, OF THE EARTH & WILD, GLOWING & ALIVE.

MY GLOW AND MY BOUNDARIES ARE PALPABLE, MAGNIFICENT AND UNDENIABLE. EVERYONE NOTICES AND MAKES SPACE. DOORS OPEN FOR ME.

I CALMLY DISAGREE TO ANYTHING THAT IS LESS THAN FULL YES. HEART OF GRATITUDE. POWERFUL PRESENCE. DEEPER BREATHS. ALL INTERACTIONS HARMONIOUS AND JOYFUL. I TAKE UP SPACE UNAPOLOGETICALLY. I AM LIT FROM WITHIN BY MAGIC.

Entry is everything.

I did so much entry for the airport, calling on/in unlikely superpowers like The TSA Respects My Queenliness and The Exact Right People to Flirt With, and got them both, which never happens.

Entry is the best. It really is. And as with all Wishing practices, whether it “works” or doesn’t seem to is not what really matters. Here’s what really matters:

The altered headspace, presence, awareness, boundaries and grace that come from:
a) getting quiet enough to feel what I want, and
b) brave enough to declare that I want it.

I bring more awareness to how I enter, how I exit, how I wish to be in it, how I wish to continue.

And I try to remember that entry can be as brief and uncomplicated as one word, one breath, one moment of returning and restoring.

What do I know about restoring and restoration?

The other day at restorative yoga, my body didn’t like any of the poses, so I just put my legs up on the wall and a blanket over my eyes, and slept for most of the ninety minute class, it was wonderfully healing.

I wonder why I don’t just stop more when stopping is so good for me.

But also I know why.

It’s scary to get quiet enough to feel what isn’t working, and to take care of myself so lovingly that I see how everything in my life which can’t reach that level of [I Am Treasured & Loved] doesn’t need to be a part of my life.

And what if this goes for people too, I mean, yes, we see why it is vulnerable to restore.

After.

After class I was so restored to the idea of restoring that I felt too woozy to drive, so I walked to my favorite park, and waited until I was rested from the resting and restored from the restoring to return to the safe house to rest-and-restore some more.

Then I realized it had suddenly become July while I was resting and restoring, and July is the month of Restoration, and laughed for a very long time.

Restoring.

Restoration like restoring a building. Very. Interior. Design.

Restoring the storehouses of power.

Restoration of qualities: Sovereignty restored. Crown on. Rest restored. Courage restored.

Restoring like Righting and Returning. Rewriting and Rerighting.

Restoring like Provisions and providing for myself with stores that are restored.

Righting myself. Restoring myself through restoring my self, and my sense of self, calling all my selves back in, returning to myself through welcoming all aspects of who I am.

Glowing appreciation to a fellow star agent for talking this out with me, we were totally on the same magical calendar page!

Restorations.

Restoration is RESTFUL in how it motivates.

It restores vitality, and not from the abusive mentality of Ass In Chair Do All The Things Do Them Now Kick Your Own Ass, but from applying presence, love and Extreme Self-Care.

Waiting, listening, trusting. Tending to the fractal flowers.

Restoration is a return to congruence, a new form of doing, without striving or pushing, motivated by love.

The Restoration mindset asks for receptivity and curiosity: Is there a more harmonious way for this to happen? What if this doesn’t need my input? What if there is nothing to fix?

May everything that needs restoring be restored.

May everything that needs restoring be restored.

With care and reverence, lovingly restoring like a curator with a precious work of art.

May I remember that I am the work of art and I am also the curator!

May I apply the superpower of With Great Care And Reverence to everything I do.

And may all broken hurting connections be healed and restored, with love, clear communication and good naps.

Anything else about this?

Yes. Healing is not linear and trust takes time. And hey guess what, over time self-cherishing will come with more ease.

A cascading of a hundred billion sparklepoints for me for practicing and for noticing.

What else am I noticing?

There is a flip maneuver on the silk sling, I can successfully execute this maybe one out of twenty tries. But if I do it backwards first, then I nail it every single time.

I watch the slow motion video take, trying to discern what makes it work versus why so rarely.

Maybe it’s the superpowers of Widdershins and the magical question of what needs to happen backwards.

Maybe going backwards RESTORES the sensation of control and alignment. Maybe backwards is where the power and courage engage. Maybe we reverse to restore perspective.

The noticing invites the restoration, so let’s all be better Noticers, noticing with love and without applying guilt.

The S Word.

In motorcycle school they teach you about SIPDE: SCAN, IDENTIFY, PREDICT, DECIDE, EXECUTE.

This is something I do anyway while both driving and dancing, but I’m allergic to the acronym, which I find cold and unfeeling, something from the jargon-loving engineer-brain world of Ass In Chair, and myers-briggs types and charts divided into four sections.

My negative reaction is visceral and immediate. Why am I expected to adapt my wonder and glow-spark to this unimaginative non-magical world everyone else seems to inhabit. I refuse.

I want to be a panther. A panther intuitively lives by SIPDE, but would never ever use such robotic words if it had the glorious freedom of language.

When a panther stalks, it lives and breathes each element of this, but with so much more grace:

Sense, Intuit, Pause/Perceive, Leap, and then Adapt In Mid-Air. SIPLA!

This is the panther way. This is my way. But of course for metaphorical motorcycle school I have to pretend that I am not a panther.

Sense, Sequence, Stars, and other S words.

In real-real life though, I Sense and Stalk and Sleep and Sequence, a Sovereign Secret Agent, Soaring and Sailing, Under the Stars. Crown on, tail always adjusting. Snick. Snick. Snick.

This is how I get things done.

I restore them. I allow them to be restored.

I restore my powers, by resting into them.

Sense, intuit, (be a) panther, dive, emerge.

Look, I just restored the magic of SIPDE. What if everything else can be restored this easily too? With play and pleasure, power and presence.

Snick snick snick. Gliiiiide.

What is restorative? What is being restored?

Obvious yet mind-blowing epiphany of this week, while packing:

IF I CAN SEE WHAT I HAVE, I CAN SEE WHAT IS INCONGRUENT
INSTANTANEOUS INVENTORY
INSIDE AND OUT
NOTHIN IS EXTRANEOUS
I KNOW WHAT I NEED BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT I HAVE

(!!!!!!)

This is literally true, for example, I don’t need to order new [X] because oh hey look I have some stored in a basement, and this is true in my internal space.

If I know what is in my headspace, if I am more discerning about what enters (a clear no to anything that causes a MIGRAINE), then I know what I have and I know what I need.

We pause for a funny story about Congruence.

I called in Congruence to help me with my secret mission of PP&F (Provisioning for Pleasure and Freedom), a rewriting of the hard-for-me bits like packing, moving, all forms of logistick-ing and deciding where I will be when, tomorrow is Day 439 on the road.

Asking for Congruence is a tricky thing because she always immediately shows you what is Incongruent, and usually it is something you didn’t want to see.

I exited Agent Sloan’s safe house early in the morning, wildly proud of myself for having finally mastered the one-trip-to-the-car exit, an ongoing wish for many months.

And then something felt not-right with the cotton grocery market bag. This bag is not Congruent, I thought. And then my next thought was who cares, I don’t want to let it go because it is useful and the exact right size and rolls small and was only recently acquired, and even has a clue on it about Crown On, in the shape of a small crown.

Small. Crown. Trains of thought.

I was thinking about this bag and crowns, and the mysteries of SIPDE, and then, completely failing to SIPDE, I placed the small crown bag on the ground without looking, and loaded the rest of the car.

Only when I put it in the trunk did I see it was covered in dog shit, and of course there is no way to clean it and no time, already en route to breakfast and then the airport, so goodbye slightly-incongruent bag that is now very-incongruent.

At breakfast I discovered my lapse of SIPDE-ing had greater consequences than I’d realized, at some point before noticing my crown bag was coated in poop (how’s that for a clue about current sovereignty levels), I must have slung it across my shoulder, leaving a large smear on the front of my thigh, and that, my friends, is how I ended up in my underthings in the cafe bathroom, washing my travel clothes in the sink, holding them under the hand-dryer and inventing new meanings for SIPDE.

Rewriting and restoring. Committing to being a different kind of noticer.

And hey now that is the second story here about animal excrement and listening (or not listening) to intuition.

Let us tell and retell, restoring what needs to be restored.

And let’s find the treasure and the holy holiness in all of it.

Also hello, sadness, yes, okay, we have some tears to spill when we consider this theme of recognizing that maybe things which are Not Yes aren’t worth keeping, this is painful.

Let’s ask to be comforted as we restore our stores of treasure, our stores of superpowers. Crown restored. No more small crown. No more kinda-sorta. No more time and energy on experiences that don’t glow love towards me.

Restored and Re-Stored.

Late at night craving kisses from someone far away, but there were none to be had.

Drifting to sleep planting kiss-wishes. Come in, come in, lost kisses.

Suddenly awake at four in the morning, reaching for the phone, certain my missing kisses had arrived and were now waiting for me to receive them and more, maybe I dreamed them, I felt so sure of them, but there was nothing.

I put the device into AIR(plane) mode, aka the plane of Access Internal Resonance, through shutting off the world. Going Dark. Turning Inward.

Retreating to a place where I can’t look for kisses.

Except then I couldn’t bring myself to turn the phone back on and risk feeling that feeling again.

Maybe this sojourn in AIR mode will restore something, hahaha here is the monster crew snickering now, yeah, they say, like maybe your dignity. Yes, okay, very funny, guys, but maybe it will restore other things, peaceful borders to my kingdom, or a sense of grounding, even as I live in the AIR. Maybe it will restore love.

A reigniting or a new form of ignited, a sky full of sparks.

Into the water / I am my own Power Source

I entered the float tank with a wish that was mysterious to me: My power center is restored! My powers are restored! I am the Star Queen! I am the Wildest Cat!

Ninety minutes later, all the mysteries had been solved, knowing and remembering, total Clarity:

I am the power center, the channel for and deliverer of my own powers. I can fill up on love all on my own: get quiet, immerse and receive it directly from source because I am a reflection of source — I can breathe-and-hum love, and never run out.

I Am My Own Power Source. I Am My Own Love Source. I Restore My Own Stores through connecting to the love that just is, not the love that is dependent on other people to deliver it.

Is there anything I want to call in for this month of Restoring & Restoration?

Yes, more superpowers!

Let’s call in all superpowers of Wild Me of the Wilds of South Dakota, Fiery Bad Girl of the Badlands, and Witchiest Witch.

Tough Fearless Motorcycle-Loving Wild, Panther of Prowess, a new Wonder Woman who trains five times harder than the most powerful Amazon warrior, and naps five times more deeply than the most content and happy sloth.

Passionate Troublemaker, Wild Wanderer, Secret Aerialist, Interior Designer on the move.

Champion of Luscious Minimalism, Still The Best Shot, A Star Among The Stars, A Bell Among Bells, Fierce & Fearless, Powerful & Striking, Grounded & Wild, Glowing & Alive, Undeniably Sexy, The Star Queen Who is Of The Ground And Lives In The Air, Unconditional Self-Treasuring, The Seas Part For Her Magnificence!

What will help us dive deep (and soar high) into Restoring The Crown, Restoring the Powers, and experiencing some Star Level Congruence and Star Level Sparks? Ah, yes, of course, the superpower of this month’s door: Deep Healing & Sweetness.

It’s right there in the doorway.

May it be so!

NEXT STEP / AND A PRESALE!

Everything I write is a healing and a channeling, a magic that works in all directions, internal and external, through the labyrinth-compass, and all the wisdom here comes from the work (and play! mostly play!) of Self Fluency.

Buying something from the Gift Shop is a great way to dive deeper into practicing/living this on your own, and it helps me continue to share the work here.

During the month of Restoration I am offering something I’ve never done before: a collection of seventeen of my very favorite pieces out of everything I’ve posted here over the past twelve years. It is only available this month.

I haven’t set up the official page yet, so this is a PRESALE SALE! You can order it here, and you’ll get an email with the download link before the end of the month, though probably sooner!

Invitation: Communal wish space! Come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

You can also share how things have been going, check in, or deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, possibly in code.

Safe space for creative exploration asks us to let go of care-taking and advice-giving.

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.

Wishes and checking-in are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!

The Fluent Self