It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday}
What worked this week?
Two minutes on the floor.
My favorite thing in the world (and also the thing I resist doing the most) is getting down on the floor and closing my eyes for ten minutes. It makes everything better.
However, when I am stressed out and overwhelmed, the monster crew won’t listen to all the evidence collected by my internal scientists on the efficacy of Ten Minutes On The Floor.
Luckily it turns out that they have considerably less resistance to two minutes, which still has a remarkably calming and grounding effect. At the end of the two minutes I might decide to take a few more, or I might go back to what I was doing. Either way, my head got quieter and my body relaxed.
Next time I might…
Remember that it is impossible to Do All The Things.
I did a lot of blaming this week about all the things that weren’t getting done.
Since there is absolutely no way to do them all — if I were a football (soccer) player I couldn’t score fifty goals in a match, that’s a completely absurd expectation — I want to remember this. And I want to run around in a circle waving my arms and smiling my face off when I make one goal, because I just did a thing that was challenging as hell, and I did it relatively gracefully, so I am going to take pleasure in that.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- I didn’t dance for a whole week. A combination of giant identity crisis combined with my favorite dance shoes being at the cobbler combined with tired. Mostly identity stuff though. It’s that thing where you care about something so much that you can’t bear to do it. A breath for trusting the process.
- Scary altercation on the bus triggered PTSD and took me out of commission for a day. And then work stuff meant not as much sitting in the sun as I was hoping for. A breath for readjusting.
- Timing. It is what it is, etc etc. A breath for comfort.
- Same as last week, with a new flavor: Missing, missing, missing. A breath for being with the void.
- Operation Bell View is so much work. A million tiny details. A breath for releasing worry.
- Day 2 of Rally is always just so completely Day 2. There is something about The Middle that begs for falling apart. Combine Day 2 with extreme pms, and add a gigantic scary project. Total meltdown. A breath for trust.
- Big identity stuff, not just about dance. Taking down the castle is even harder than I was afraid of. Plus: how can one person have so many projects? And I still haven’t cleaned for passover. And I cut my finger! A breath for patience and moving through the hard.
- Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- I solved a dance challenge! All by myself! As in, I was able to correctly identify what wasn’t working in a particular move, and what I could do to fix this. This is a really big deal. A breath for a door opening and for my delight at crossing through.
- After taking a week off from dancing, I was feeling a little apprehensive about returning Wednesday night. It was the most delight-filled night of dancing ever. A breath for pleasure, and for pleasantly surprised.
- The theme of “an unexpected reprieve”, in many forms. Including an extra dance, and then an extra dance. A breath for joy.
- As we always say: Everything that happens at Rally is part of Rally. (Rally!) Big insights, big decisions, all the right things emerging from the tumult. And my meltdown yielded a very good idea. A breath for possibility.
- Nothing is wrong. A breath for remembering this.
- Realizing that all these things falling apart IS taking down the castle, which is what I want. A breath for finding the good.
- Skipping stones in the park. A breath for useful intel.
- The blue dress fits perfectly. The cobbler did magic to two pairs of my shoes. Playing a game of Three Words and Four Words with T.J. Lunch with E.J. Yes, there is an E.J. and a T.J. (actually two different T.J.s) in my life, it is confusing. A walk in Director’s Park. Agent Rosie. Distance-nidra with the Spy. Support. Love. Warmth. Things are good. A breath for deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
I made ridiculous progress on Operation Bell View. Operation KLM is in prep mode. Operation Sea Sky Dance Play is kind of scary, but I think it can happen. And some more progress on the Mission of Xs and Ys. WHAM BOOM.
This week I will transition from preparing Operation Bell View to being on it and in it.
Superpowers!
Powers I had this week…
I had the superpower of finding lots of ways to take down a castle, which is also the superpower of being aware of more options.
Superpowers I want.
I am going to keep asking for extreme sexy fearlessness. And I would like the power of This Door Opens For Me.
Salve. The Salve of More Options.
My father says that if you think you are stuck between two options, you are wrong. There is always another one.
It’s kind of like the video game. Sometimes you have to make an opening, but a lot of times it’s just a matter of seeing the opening.
When you use this salve, your whole skin breathes it in. In fact, you can feel the process of your skin breathing, almost as if you have gills. Like you can take in sustenance more easily because all of you can take in sustenance.
The door that wasn’t visible before suddenly is right there in front of you. The third way shows up.
This salve smells very faintly of sandalwood and it feels like talking to the ocean.
New possibilities come to light, and they are beautiful.
If salve does not appeal, you can have this in tea form, as a bath, cocktail, 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 T.J. and it is called It’s Like The French Foreign Legion. Their latest album is called Untoward Suggestions. They are direct and brassy (in all senses of that word), and actually it is just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I am deep in an undercover mission to get better at receiving in all forms, or as I’m calling it: Glowing Receptivity and Being Receptive to Glow. Including the skill of gracefully accepting thanks.
It is related to my mission of Coming Out Of All The Closets and sharing about my personal experiences with not-sharing-how-hard-things-are.
If you would like to take a part in this and support me on my mission by sharing sweetness and appreciation for any aspect of my work, I would love that. You can do it with the magic of words, through the comments, or add something to Barrington’s Discretionary fund. (Explanation!)
And if the way you are glowing appreciation is quietly in your heart, I like that too. ♡
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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Thank you for the salve. It’s perfect. I continue to be amazed at how exactly-right these salves are.
Hard: Health issues. Money issues. Monsters. Shoes. Changed plans. Fears.
Good: Love and support, there for me when I ask. Steady steps forward. Small pleasures, reminding me that I am richer than the monsters realize.
I now invoke the superpower of All is Well and I Am Who I Want To Be. Love and sweetness to everyone here!
Hello, Friday. Erev tov!
What worked? Waiting. Preparing. Waiting. Waiting.
Next time? Accepting permission earlier.
Hard, antsy, etc.:
* Ant infestation. Augh!
* Oh, asthma, I am so tired of you.
* Jealousy, you too.
* A piece became a slog to sling out.
* This friggin’ Heartbleed mishegoss. Good grief.
Good, reassuring, etc.:
* Overhearing lovely comments about my sweetie.
* Gosh, my neighborhood is gorgeous.
* Gift card = new nightgown.
* Great meeting with my finance dude.
* All the turtles sunning themselves at the lake today!
* Oh, I love horse names. Cheering on all the Kittens and Bears tomorrow. 😀
Warm wishes and big bouquets to all y’all. Shabbat shalom.
I had to get used to being Not The Only KJ when I moved offices. That made me a little bit sad.
This week – hurrah hurrah nothing in the evenings! Except of course all of the tired leftover from last week’s full evenings, and the dread for next week’s full evenings, and beyond that the boxes. Trying to remember that it is OK to drink when I reach the oasis, and to sleep when I find a bed.
Operation Shameless Trollope is going very well all of a sudden, and I’m very pleased. If I complete Operation Trollope Up With It (correction: this particular phase of Op TUWI) before someone else buys the mermaid necklace, I am going to buy the mermaid necklace.
Passive Aggressive Gunfight at my branch of the Frolicsome Bar has been a little awkward, and has turned into one of those things where not doing a thing is doing a thing. Control. I am not in it. Except of course I am; it’s simply a matter of finding how. Guilt about throwing my stuff at other people when I didn’t even need to. Trusting that there is a box for them to hide in. Trusting that there is a box for everyone involved.
Doing everything for the last time. The last time down the escalator at Euston in Friday rush hour is a good last time. The last Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, the last Good Friday, the last Easter Vigil and Easter Morning and Easter Evensong are all coming. Sadness for passing. Love for its having been.
A Saturday Chicken:
The first day of my 43rd year. A breath for still being here.
The loveliest get together last night, which included getting to hold a baby goat and still having tiny goat-hoof bruises on my arm.
A wonderful day ahead of me for all the things I want to do.
Apps on my phone to keep me in close touch with all things money. This is such a good thing, and is so far from when it would all make me pukey.
The Curious:
Shopping a lot lately. On one hand, I need clothes to make me look professional and I’m making good choices. On the other hand, I am feeling lumpy in everything and I still don’t have the right shoes which makes everything seem all wrong and I was running out of hangers. Also wondering if the shopping is trying to cure something else. (Money I spend shopping is money that can’t be used to get to Bolivia…)
Lonely lately. And feeling lumpy doesn’t help with this.
That vaguely unsettled feeling that will probably dissipate as I answer emails that need answering, and practice the things that need practicing and go outside.
happy birthday, a breath for you!
So interesting that “things falling part is taking down the castle.” This made a lot of sense, together with the magic word “identity.” I am going to really breathe in that wonderful salve. As Kathleen says: it’s eerie how fitting they are.
The hard: Resistance and All the Monsters every day. Still Sad Sad Knee and the Case of the Shrinking Numbers. And ouf, identity crises. Yes, plural. Shadow comforts.
The good: Operation Second Draft completed, ahead of schedule. Finding Solace. Steady Movement. Spring is Really Here.
Wondrous weekends to all!
This week! Hello goodbye week it’s chicken. Let’s doo eet….
Hards….
– taking it personally (ow)
– numbing! omg so much crappy candy crush …. (yawn and ewww compulsive)
– only dishing up second rate parenting (sadness and guilt)
– seeing the loop is not the same as being able to opt out of the loop in that moment (frustration!)
– the hangover to the hangover (when will I be back in balance)
– that thing where you give people a script that you are receptive to and tell them ‘in these circumstances say [this]’ and then despite being in said circumstances they refuse to use the script…………….. ????!!!!???!!! Are you even aware that I exist in this experience AT ALL????? (Gah!!)
– Cassandra complex
– I can see another boundary reset is coming and WHY don’t you just STOP TAKING???
Goods…..
+ wow I’m surprised I could actually recall so much hard stuff because right at this moment I feel fanflippingtastic!
+ retreeeeeeeeat!! I took myself on a spontaneous chrysalis to a cliff side tiny cabin in the mountains and it was omgthebestthingever. I am going to do it four times a year! It’s going in the budget! Trees! Solitude! Napping! Snacks! Journal! Mountain! Hippy dippy oracle cards! The best!
+ Intel. Lumen. Let’s make the ‘growth impetus’ a conscious process then, shall we? Seventeen evolutions, I’ve been told. We’re in for some fun and interesting times!
+ I trust myself. I back myself. Shit is not about me. This Truth has bedded down.
+ love leads
+ Cassandra has been at least invited to *speak*. It’s better than being ignored entirely. We’ll see how receptive they actually are.
+ either way, their response or receptivity is Not My Job. This Truth has bedded down.
+ I am on point and on track. Keep going. Backed up by oracle cards 😉
+ diminishing circles of screwed upness down the generations. I think we’re seeing it in my family.
<3 <3 <3
Cluck. Xxxx
Re the script-giving, what I actually said (twice) (to two people) is ‘in these circumstances the most helpful thing you can say is [this]’. Helpful!!?? Do you not wish to be helpful? I do not understand this at all……… I mean, obvs you are so entirely wrapped up in your response to this situation I could do a bloody tap dance in a banana dress and you wouldn’t really notice so Ido understand but it’s still very annoying. Yes.