It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday}
I would like to note that we are TEN CHICKENS away from three hundred weeks of Chicken. That is so many chickens, you guys! And if you want to support this work (and get treasure and help me give away more treasure), please here are the details, time sensitive. Password: fredastaire
What worked?
Going with it.
Housemate’s coffee maker exploded? Great, now we have a really thoroughly cleaned kitchen. Including the ceiling.
I wasn’t able to get out of bed for fourteen days because of a virus? Great, I’m practicing sabbatical.
Lost my west coast swing partner? I’ve been meaning to learn to waltz anyway.
Just like that. Going with it.
Conducting!
As soon as I got to Rally, everything got better.
And that’s because at Rally I conduct (resting on the floor, with some added things, but mainly resting on the floor) a lot.
For ten, twenty, even thirty minutes at a time.
Whenever I need it and even when I don’t.
Conducting helps me soften, it puts me back in my body, it gives me my boundaries back, it reveals things I didn’t know that I knew, it facilitates mini-epiphanies.
And a great mystery of life is why I don’t do it more outside of Rally. But this week was Rally, and I conducted my way back into peacefulness and right relationship.
Next time I might…
Trust. My. Instincts.
In the small ways and in the big ways.
Feel the pull and follow it. Wait, now I can’t feel the pull. Nothing is wrong. Phone and internet need to disappear, they are breaking my pull. I need to get down on the floor and breathe until I can feel it again.
No reflexively saying yes. Is this what I want? Is this still what I want? Am I walking towards what I want or away from it? Am I trying to please or placate someone, or am I connected to what I truly need in that moment?
Remember that endings are hard, they just are. Permission. Legitimacy.
Tomorrow is the end of the Floop, my online community now finishing its fifth year, and my favorite place of safety and miracles.
The dry dock period is important and has to happen, I know that. And at the same time I don’t want this year of Floop to end, to the point that I actually extended the Floop by two whole weeks. And now it really does have to end.
Anyway, Everything Ends. There is nothing wrong with endings, there is nothing wrong with how much stuff they bring up: it’s just coming up so it can clear out. There is nothing wrong with endings being hard.
The hard is to be expected, and sometimes remembering that helps. I want to remember.
Lots of endings this week. The spy who loves/loved me. Elbee. Floop. Undecided things that are now decided. Many different forms of X.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- The spy who loves me is now the spy who loved me. Or, maybe it is better to say that he is embarking on a new mission that does not involve being with me. Also, what girl doesn’t like having her heart broken the day before Valentine’s day aka the worst day in the world. Endings. They hurt so much. A breath for moving through deep pain and sadness. All my breaths for that.
- Impossibly slow recovery from being ill. A breath for having to be patient.
- Richard hurt his hand and is having trouble doing all the many things that require two hands. A breath for healing.
- Sexism. Homophobia. Bigotry. This stuff drives me up the wall. I mean, this is true all the time. This week though I was confronted with alarming amounts of ignorant thinking in the west coast swing dance community, and did not like it. A breath for change.
- AAAAAAAARGH. Huge frustration! Why do things need to be all or nothing? THEY DON’T. Why can we not invent creative compromises? Much fighting, and endless frustration, both internally and with someone I love. A breath for feeling all the hard feelings.
- Tuesday night I couldn’t sleep until forever, and then woke up late, which apparently happened to everyone else at Rally, so no one was there to open up and turn on the lights, except for the one person who had never been to Rally and didn’t have the key. A breath for wanting to take care of everyone and have things go smoothly, the usual Stuff.
- A teary goodbye to Elbee, the bravest and saddest mouse, may his memory be for a blessing. A breath for unexpected sorrow.
- Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- The four snow days were such a breather for me. I didn’t have to test my recovering body, because there was nowhere to go and nothing to do. I didn’t have to choose between MISSING OUT ON ALL THE FUN or going back to bed, because back to bed is the only real option when the entire city is shut down. A breath for remarkable right timing.
- Appreciating the absence of things. A breath for being able to do this.
- Slowly, slowly back to dance. Two sweet classes that weren’t taxing. I can’t do anything high-impact yet, and that’s okay. I am dancing and it feels wonderful. A breath for recovery and return.
- I realized what I needed in [situation/relationship], and asked for it, both from myself and from the other person. Actually, I made it a requirement, this is not something I have ever done for myself. I was able to notice a lot of patterns without getting sucked into them, and I didn’t avoid the hard conversation like I usually would. A breath for perspective, and for standing up for presence.
- Comfort from friends. A breath for knowing that I am held.
- I’m writing and writing and writing. A breath for being ready, and for all the vitally important not-writing I had to do to get here.
- Deep play at the Floop and Rally. A breath for safe space and true community.
- I’m going to be okay, through all of this, even this new sadness. A breath for being filled with appreciation.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
My op this week was going to be next steps on Operation Sassafras, and deeper into Deep Cover. It ended up being about writing and Tying Up Loose Ends.
My op for next week is to ask the same question, over and over again. It is a question that is a stone.
WHAM! BOOM!
Superpowers!
Powers I had this week…
The powers of Alertness, Improvisation and This Is Right Even Though I Don’t Know How.
Superpowers I want.
The powers of Extreme Bond Girl Confidence.
Salve.
I’m not sure how to name this salve, so I have to explain it. This week was Rally (Rally!), and it is amazing, and two nights ago we were naming words that start with I, since this is Rally I.
I’ve probably already told you how much I love having Brits at Rally, I just do. Anyway, something about hearing the word INDULGENCE in a London accent just set off all the sparks.
So this salve is not so much about Indulgence as it is about the feeling of the word in that tone…
It is a salve of SULTRY PLEASURE and DELIGHTING IN PLENTY and SLIGHTLY DIRTY and DELICIOUSLY OVER THE TOP.
I didn’t think the word indulgence spoke to me, but it did when she said it.
This salve is buttery smooth, a bit wicked, and it reminds you the pleasure is pleasurable, and that there is healing power in pleasure. Putting it on your skin is not only a sensual delight, it heals all the parts of you that think you don’t get to have that in your life.
As soon as you apply it, you remember: Pleasure is a spiritual quality that is its own reason for existing. There is nothing wrong with feeling it.
If last week was the salve of wells, this is the salve of well-pleasured. With a dash of permission.
If you are not a salve person (today or in general), you can have this in tea form, pill form, as a bath, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is from the breakup and my hurting heart. They’re called:
Imagine The Island
They play what I guess you could call Caribbean house party music. Though as it turns out, it is just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
You guys!
Help us meet our Blodgett! You get TREASURE, and then we distribute more treasure:
Here is the link for Operation Sustenance, which holds everything I will be offering in 2014. –> Password: fredastaire
And I would love help bringing more people to the site, so if you have a favorite post, please share this week. Let’s grow the base so we can do what we need to do this year, and so there are more lovely people to play with.
Also some lovely people are holding a Euro Rally! I am not involved in this project other than wishing it so much love, I know the people doing this and they are marvelous. If you are in/near Europe, go Rally with them.
Come play if you like…
Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us say hi, or maybe we’re on silent retreat. My ritual doesn’t have to be your ritual. Whatever works for you. Almost three hundred weeks of this and there still isn’t a right way.
Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We don’t give advice.
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever you like, it’s no big deal. And I am blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers. I love that you are here too.
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Mmmmm… the salve of well-pleasured with a dash of permission – exactly what I needed right now. Yay for right-timing!
What worked? Playing lots of Pascal Obispo. Frying kale with the eggs.
A clew: a colt named Quiet Force won his race at Santa Anita yesterday.
What was hard? Gunk. Clutter. Finding compassion for Past Me and people who haven’t moved on. The knotted-up-ness of acknowledging Not My Bus-ness.
What was good? Being able to giggle about my hangups even when they tangle with my sweetie’s convictions about the proper way to deal with leftovers. Some solid iguana-herding this week. Being able to hold firm on my rate and a better-match-for-me project offered to me the next day. New lockers in the locker room.
Sending sympathy for the losses and warm wishes to all.
Heartsigh, and an armful of tulips.
Mysterious things: Fog of oblivion at a most inconvenient time; Stuckness and procrastination that was actually grief in deep cover; Falling down a cliff and hurting my shoulder (sadly, not a metaphor) and my monsters held a parade in protest of Valentine’s day.
Helpful things: Writing and more writing allowed the sadness to let go. I went on a mission to discover the source of the fog of oblivion and had some very useful epiphanies (thank you metaphor mouse!). Falling off the cliff showed me how much my body has healed, and I am so grateful that I can roll with the punches once again. Indulgence is the perfect word to describe the truce I struck with the monster parade. (Mmm, tea and chocolate.)
Okay, Friday. Where are we, exactly?
This week, I have had the superpower of self-containment, and the related superpower of monster forcefielding — keeping me safe, keeping them safe.
Mysteries: why have I received no replies from that certain email and that certain voice mail? Why did [person] have to make that choice which led to that consequence? Why have I been so irritable for so much of the time? And why am I doing so much wheel-grinding? Can I step out of that pattern now? Which path shall I take through this labyrinth?
Delights: I am baking and decorating cookies. I have been singing, writing, and playing. The several-day snowstorm has come and gone. I have been asking for things, and receiving them. I have been noticing beauty. Also, I have this wonderful salve of Indulgence, to try, and I feel sure that it will give me exactly the healing that I need right now.
Lighting my candle, and sending love…
It feels like this was a really eventful week in with not much actually happened, for me.
A breath for a snow day, and for snow shoes to go get crunchy salty snacks that I normally don’t eat, because it’s gorgeous in the snow and it was fun to trudge in deep snow up to my knees.
A breath for the snow plow coming just now, so I can maybe get my car into the garage after all. (It freaks me out when the guy with the plow slides around! Also makes me feel better that I couldn’t get up the hill in my comparatively tiny Honda.)
A breath for seeds planted this week.
And a breath for all the hurt and the tired and the uncertainty.
290 chickens!
Ouch. Sending tea and virtual hugs and roses.
Ah Havi, this post holds so much wisdom and so many clues. Gratitude and appreciation. May all the flowers bloom for you!
The hard: SO much hard. The Epic Move is proving Truly Epic and All the Stuff is appearing in All the Forms and with All the Ugliness. So many emotions, so many deep earthquakes that surface at the wrong time. But Nothing is Wrong and Endings are Hard. Excavating memories and usefulness and delight from the trash is not easy, and much less at this speed and volume.
And I want to remember: Sure, Why Not?
The good: the new flat is lovely, the weather is springtime, the city will always hold treasures, we are Wham Boom Mastodon-ing each of the ops.
The salve of Indulgence is badly needed.
May the weekend hold delight and replenishment for all!
Cheers, Chickeneers!
Sending you much love and compassion and buckets of salve for becoming the Single Spy… and wishing you much INDULGENCE in my Bucks/Somerset/Welsh British accent!
xx
Haha, may it be so! Thank you. Basically everyone just keep saying INDULGENCE in charming ways and I will be the happiest person ever.
Wow, Havi, a lot of HARD this week for you. Wishing you flowers and hugs and feeling grounded and walking toward Right Things.
I always thought the Floop was the community here at the blog, but maybe it’s something else. I hope so, because I look forward to coming here every week.
Best salve ever!
I usually take my salves in tea form. This one I think deserves a martini. Shaken of course, maybe a little dirty.
To endings and renewal
Is it possible to over-dose on salve?
What worked: trusting in the superpower of Right Timing for sadness; reminding myself what I know about transitions and endings. Rest.
What didn’t: Responding as clearly as possible to a repeat shoe-thrower. We’re both still hurting.
The hard: Losing a respected and much-loved colleague. The virus from Hell’s outskirts. Shoes thrown at me.
The good: I’ve been able to tap into calm and quiet spaces. Letting myself sleep more, lots of tea. Rest because of a virus has been good for the rest of me as well. Other friends who are beacons of love and support and reassurance.
The plan: a trip up to the bookstore with a stash of English books, a smoothie full of fruit and vitamins, and maybe a trip to the import store for more peppermint tea. Deep breaths. Continuity.