What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Riding the El
Riding the El was my recent proxy mission.
The El stood for Love. L is for love.
And other things.
And I was riding it, in the sense that I was learning about it.
It was at Rally (Rally!), of course, and it was Rally L which is why I was riding the El.
My name was even L. Well, it was Elle.
Even better: I was named twice, because I believe in the power of saying everything twice, and so my secret agent code name was Elle Elle Bean, and I thought this was hilarious.
L is for Love, among other things.
Love is the best feeling, and there are so many things (and people) it is possible to love and so many ways it is possible to love them.
What I especially love is words.
I love words so much (can you tell?), and sometimes when there is an especially rich letter like this one, I start to feel overwhelmed.
As if I couldn’t possibly even begin to collect all the L words that I love. That idea is ludicrous, another L-word that I love, because it reminds me of Jane. She always says, “Ludicrous! Preposterous! Impossible! Absolutely not!” and then laughs her Jane-laugh that I love.
So in order to ride the El without riding all the Ls, I am making a compass of L to hold eight beautiful L-words that I love.
And then maybe we’ll sneak some more in too. There is room.
A compass of L for riding the L.
North is for Letting.
Letting in.
Letting out.
Letting go.
Letting as in allowing. Letting: saying yes to what might be. Letting things be, as they are, in this moment, and letting that be okay.
Letting as in permission, amnesty, presence.
Letting life in. Letting love in. Letting everything that needs to go find its way (gently, safely) out.
Letting is the most beautiful hello, and the most ease-filled goodbye.
Northeast is for Less.
Because sometimes it really is more.
Heeding the whisper. Less and lessening. Less is more. That is what the whisper says right now. Do less. Think less. Make things less complicated. Less what-if and more thank-you.
Less is not necessarily about giving up, and it is certainly not about less receiving. It is about taking less on. Respecting capacity. Trusting that I don’t have to take care of everyone.
East is Luminosity.
Glowing.
Letting the light in. Shimmering. Boundaries that are translucent, so that you can glow light softly outward too.
I trust this word. I feel the truth of it. There are moments that are luminous. Getting quiet, for me, is a way of accessing luminosity.
Southeast is Laughter.
Laughing makes everything better.
It could also be the El in riding the El.
Laughing is about waves and it is about delight. It is about remembering that everything is funny: this beautiful, exquisite, sad, hard, complicated-and-simple life, the way we make things harder than they need to be, the way we cling to things that are not for us….
Sometimes, when the light is just right or the timing is just right, you can glimpse how funny it is, and you laugh a laugh that starts out a little bit bitter and dissolves into hilarity and eventually gratitude.
I was able to laugh while all the barns burned, a little, at moments, and it saved me. It lightened things.
If you have never tried laughter yoga, I recommend it. I first learned it with the old turkish ladies, and sometimes we do it at Rally. Laughter is freeing, laughter is remembering.
South is Love.
I like the southern point of the compass to be the most grounded and stable.
Words I often put at south in a compass of qualities: Ground, Anchor, Steadiness, Source.
I think it makes sense for Love to be here.
I’m talking about big love right now, capital-L love, the kind that is not dependent on other people, the kind that comes from being connected to yourself and life and aliveness.
Not that loving other people and being loved by them is not a marvelous human experience, because it is. Just that it is only an echo, a rippling out, of the kind of love that I am talking about.
Bathing in love as pure quality, filling up on on it until you are all love, and then you love the trees and the you love the wooden stairs and you love the blue bike rack, and it’s all shared molecules of love.
Sometimes I forget what this is like, and I have to go back to breath and tears, legitimacy and permission, allowing time to remember, when I can.
Anyway, it’s there whether or not I remember it, it is there whether or not I breathe it in. Welcoming it helps, but I can’t lose it. I can only think that I have lost it.
Southwest is Listening.
Listening is an astoundingly, glowingly beautiful quality, and it also might be the most advanced practice I know of.
I mean, I don’t speak at all, ever, and I still have trouble listening.
I hear much more than other people do, and I still have trouble listening.
There is always more to listen to.
Listening has to do with allowing, kindness, presence, and it also has to do with sovereignty: setting clear, loving boundaries about what you are able to listen to and when.
People ask what the hardest part of not speaking is, and there aren’t really any hard parts, except that you have to get used to hearing your thoughts.
It becomes really clear really fast that you think a lot of things that you are not interested in thinking. It is a little distressing. It takes a while to realize that you get to choose, that you get to move the radio dial to the stations you like.
Always more listening, more ways to get quieter, to go deeper inside, trusting that inside of listening is everything you could possibly need.
West is Lusciousness.
I didn’t agree to let Lusciousness in for a very long time.
I closed myself off to it, fearing how it might change me, refusing to remember the times when we were friends, and maybe even lovers.
A few years ago, it became clear that without making room for Lusciousness, I was saying no to wholeness.
I had to work through (and with) what seemed like thousands of walls and monster conversations.
I had to practice: long baths with vetiver oil and salts, soft fabrics, slow kisses.
And then I laughed, because Lusciousness is such a gorgeous part of life and aliveness that how could I have ever tried to keep it out.
I was afraid it would subvert me, distract me, destroy me, and instead it brought me back to myself.
Lusciousness: come in, come in.
Northwest is Light.
Light in both senses.
The kind that glows, and also the kind that is a lightening, a releasing.
Everything is becoming lighter. Less heavy. More filled with light.
Light is a wonderful way to close a compass. Riding the El is about bringing light into the corners, that is why I ride….
Other luscious L words that I love….
Lascivious. Luxuriate. Lollipop. Lips.
Letters (both the kind that make up words and the kind that use words to say things). Language. Liminal. Lovely.
Limestone. Legitimacy. Learning. Leaping. Lift. Ladle. Loyalty.
Things that are long, slow and deep. Lessons. Licking ice cream. Linking. Lists. Loops. Loosening. Lilacs. Lustrous.
May it be so! And come play with me.
Thank you, letter L.
If you want to whisper words or sound effects that start with L, go for it.
If you want to share in any of the qualities and magical words I named here, you can.
They work like the salves in the Friday Chicken: just take some, there is always more.
Whispering loving spells that begin with L, for myself, and for anyone who wants…
Wish #252: Provisioning
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
What do I want?
So I just came back from Part One of Operation Crown Bridge, which I now suspect has many more parts than two.
It was in Corvallis and it was horrible (except for the dancing, which I loved, obviously), and I hated being there, and this turned out to be the treasure, or it brought me to the treasure.
I learned, among other things, that when I choose to do something and that choice does not emerge from the internal home-base starting-point of “what happens when I treasure myself, how can I treasure myself”, then it is probably not going to lead to [what I want/need].
And then I came home, which turned into a SIX AND A HALF HOUR voyage (Corvallis, just so you know, is 45 minutes away from Portland, where I live), yet another example of the thing that I learned, and I was so happy to have learned it that I didn’t care, and just enjoyed all six and a half ridiculous hours of it, because yay going home and I never have to go through this again because now I know it.
Anyway. I know what I want. To treasure myself and to provide for myself.
What do I know so far?
I’m not sure, but I have an example of what this is like…
The day after my return, I was still a mess. There was this moment when suddenly I noticed how badly I wanted a bath, and I gave to myself as treasure, as self-treasuring. And then when I emerged from the bath (with a lovely epiphany), I wanted to sleep and I gave this to myself too, as a gift.
Not in the usual way of, “Well, maybe this bath will get me back into the headspace of wanting to do all the things.” Not saying, “Oh fine, okay, we have a million things to do, but I can tell that if we don’t sleep now, nothing is going to work.”
As a gift.
A bath is the thing that is showing itself to be the most perfect way I could treasure myself right now, and therefore it is the right move. My sweet tired body and my sweet worn-out-self desire rest, and so I delight in being able to usher them into bed.
What do I want?
When I woke up, three hours later, I felt amazing. And also: I knew how to treasure myself. It didn’t last long, maybe for an hour or two, but I felt what it was like, how it was different.
Pausing to drink a glass of water, not because I just figured out I’m dehydrated or because I remember that I should or that I haven’t. Being pulled to water because it is what I want, and honoring the pull instead of saying, “Well, let me just finish this one thing first.”
Putting on clothes to go downstairs and make dinner for myself, suddenly aware that I wanted to wear a particular soft top in a rich, beautiful color. Normally I wouldn’t pick up on that intel or I’d ignore it: why does it matter what I wear when I’m home alone, save it for going out!
It felt extraordinary. I know exactly how to take care of myself. And the more I take care of myself, the more information I get. Also, taking care of myself supports all of my goals in life, it doesn’t keep me from moving towards them, that is a distortion.
I was able to take care of myself, to practice self-treasuring, to provide for my needs.
What I want: more of this.
What else do I know about this?
The word Provisioning means a couple of different things to me.
It is secret agent code for “Packing”, which is something I am doing a lot of, and do not like. The word reminds me that I am lovingly providing for Incoming me.
And in a larger sense, Provisioning is shorthand for all the ways I am setting things up to be kind to slightly-future me, as well as all the things I do for me-right-now so that the transition will be softer and easier.
Mechanisms for ease. That was the theme of last week and it is also the theme of this week.
For example: Planting hidden surprises for later, and presents for future me, and meeting the pain of the moments when I realize I haven’t taken care of myself.
What do I want?
I cannot even tell you how outrageously DELIGHTED I was to come back from my exhausting mission in Corvallis and discover that the quality of this month is Delight.
With the glorious superpower of “Or Maybe Something Even Better Will Happen.
I would like to delight in taking care of myself. I would like to delight in Provisioning, all the forms of kindness for me-right-now and me-who-is-coming. I would like to delight in this experiment of what happens if/when I treasure myself?
What else do I know about my wish?
It is something I wouldn’t have been able to do five years ago, or even two years ago. It is something I have been working up to.
This will lead to other forms of internal treasure that I don’t even know about yet.
Anything else? Starting points?
Keep connecting to Incoming me. Skip stones as often as possible. Writing and Righting. Xs and Ys. Dance. Red lipstick. Eight breaths. My body gets the deciding vote. Thank you in advance.
My compass for these wishes:
Love. Safety. Spaciousness. Sustenance. Freedom. Trust. Delight. Treasure.
What else do I want?
- Everything is easier than I thought, and look, miracles everywhere.
- I go out dancing at the ballroom.
- This doesn’t require my input!
- Ha, it’s so perfect that it turned out like this. Past me is a GENIUS
- I have what I need, and I appreciate it. There are resources to do this.
- Trust and steadiness. I can see why this moment is good.
- Hawaii. What if Hawaii is not in Hawaii.
- I am fearless and confident. I do the brave things and it is not even a big deal, and I still get sparklepoints, yay.
- This week’s ops: Going In. And: More recovery.
Clues?
“When you’re a rock climber, you go where the rock is.”
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka exits and strategies…
It’s funny, I didn’t think much this week about all the upcoming big endings, but they don’t bother me as much. I feel peaceful about them, like I don’t even need a strategy, I’m just going to let them happen as they happen. That wasn’t what I expected at all, but it feels good.
Ha, and I just noticed that I wrote last week that what I really wanted was LIGHTNESS, so apparently it’s here.
I also got a lot of writing done for the Book of Xs and Ys, and created some endings of my own.
And I am delighted (yes) about this month’s calendar and the quality of DELIGHT, which I’d completely forgotten about, and is exactly what I need. That’s another form of Provisioning right there. I am cared for, right now, by me of however many months ago, who made the just-right choice for me-now.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I wish to whisper a whisper about the Monster Manual! It comes paired with the world’s best coloring book, which does so much monster-dissolving magic that even if you wait to try the techniques, you’ll still feel better about everything.
Self-fluency is hard enough, we need ways to to interact with the thoughts-fear-worry-criticism that shuts down creative exploring. And when people get the manual, I am able to me spend more time writing here. So if you don’t need help with monsters, get one for a friend. Or plant a wish that someone gets it for you! And bring people you like to hang out here. The more of us working on our stuff, the better for all of us. ♡
Keep me company?
Consider this an open invitation to deposit wishes, gwishes, personal ads. In any size/form you like, there’s no right way. Updates on past experiments are welcome too, as is anything sparked for you.
Commenting culture: This is safe space for creative exploration. We are on permanent vacation from care-taking and advice-giving. We are here to play.
Let’s throw things in the pot! And: Amnesty. Leave a wish any time you want.
xox
Friday Chicken #301: Rip Van Winkled
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday}
What worked this week?
When I assume there is an easier way….
Each time I caught myself agreeing to make things complicated (okay, first I need to find out what A’s schedule is, then when B has time, then coordinate between them, possibly involving agreement from C), I paused.
I reminded myself that I don’t have to solve everything for everyone, and that there is an easier way. And then I found it.
A lot of times the easier way involves trusting that if I say what works for me, other people will either work with that or give me more intel about what they need.
Next time I might…
Say thank you to everything.
Tiny thank yous. It is always a good response.
And more asking before I need help. Something that came up this week was noticing how many deeply ingrained rules I have against this, so I would like to give that some loving attention.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Neighbors feuding, loudly. A breath for ease and speedy resolution.
- Low energy. Tired. A breath for trusting that this is okay.
- Knowing that the Spy is going to be unreachable and out of touch in all forms for three and a half years. He’s going all Rip Van Winkle. It’s a winkle in time. Sorry. Anyway. I want to keep my focus on how special it is to have him in my life right now, not on how much I will miss him, but that’s where my mind is: how much it will hurt. A breath for letting go.
- Too much work. The Ballroom and the Fluent Self and personal stuff and writing stuff and home stuff and problem-solving. A breath for spaciousness, and for trust.
- Allergies. A breath for comfort and more letting go.
- Lots of anxious feelings about upcoming travel. Going into my stuff. Forgetting that Now Is Not Then. Unearthing uncomfortable memories about times when I needed support and it wasn’t there. A breath for steadiness and anchoring.
- Much too much time with people. Not enough time going where the rock is, as Sam would say. A breath for quiet.
- Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- The Guns N Rollers 80s prom at the Ballroom was awesome. And I got to dress up. A breath for play.
- Many wonderful conversations this week, about dance and about quiet and about many interesting things. A breath for friendship.
- Dance workshops all weekend! Nightclub two step fusion: mixing in patterns from east coast swing. 20s Charleston. It was a good time. A breath for the pure pleasure of throwing myself into learning.
- It’s finally warm enough to have yoga in the backyard. A breath for my favorite ritual, and twigs in my hair.
- Getting better at dancing, I can feel it. A breath for pleasure.
- Taking Tuesday off and spending the entire day in bed. A breath for how wonderful this felt.
- Despite all the panicking and overwhelm, huge progress is being made on a number of different ops. A breath for remembering this.
- So much appreciation and thankfulness. This amazing community here. The east coast swing crowd who have been so warm and welcoming to me even though they know I’m only there when I’m cheating on west coast. Flowers in the garden. Apologetic firemen. Friends. Long Slow Deep. Richard. Avoiding the 6. Things are good. A breath for deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
Wham Boom! Operation Three Times Thank You. I also did a bunch of things I have been avoiding forever, and they were easier than I thought. Now two thirds of the way through Operation KLM, and making some changes to Operation Sea Sky Dance Play. Big, big, wonderful progress on the Mission of Xs and Ys.
Superpowers!
Powers I had this week…
I had the superpower of knowing when to ask for a hug, and the superpower of renaming things. Packing is now Provisioning, as in setting up provision/s for incoming-me.
Superpowers I want.
Same as last week: Welcome confidence. Both in the sense that I welcome confidence, and that I feel welcome and confident, and that these are related. And more Extreme Sexy Fearlessness please.
I would also like, while I’m asking, the superpower of remembering that however it turns out, it is going to be okay.
Salve. The Salve of Requirement.
In the world Harry Potter there was a Room of Requirement at Hogwarts: a hidden room that was only there when you needed it most and held for you exactly what you needed in that moment.
This is a salve that works like that room, but with qualities.
When you rub this salve into your skin, the qualities you need the most in that moment dissolve into you in the exact right amount and the exact right way.
You don’t need to know what you need, it will just be there: Trust. Strength. Forgiveness. Delight. Surrender. Agility. Pleasure. Presence. It is a salve of Sustenance and it is whatever you need it to be. Enjoy.
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 by way of autocorrect! They’re loud and angry, they mostly play in basements and they’re called Rip Can Pinkle. And as it turns out, they are 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.
Something I have forgotten to say.
For five years now I have been writing wishes and sharing them here every week.
I’ve done a lot of thinking, here and on my own, about how scary and fraught it can be to reveal wishes, even to myself, never mind TO THE INTERNET. How wishing itself is intensely vulnerable. Not an easy practice.
I’ve also done a lot of thinking about sneaking around the hard, writing in code.
It occurred to me this week that I have not given nearly as much head-and-heart time to acknowledging the beautiful and sometimes miraculous things that have resulted from this practice.
I’ve forgotten to pause and look back at the winding path. I’ve been looking at where I might want to go and how I might have an easier time getting there. Not enough pause-and-picnic.
Thank you, winding path that brought me here.
For sure I think about the lovely thing we have going here, the community, the ritual, the space for it. And that’s usually kind of as far as it goes.
And of course I say thank you in advance, and in a way that is also saying thank you to past me for the past wishes, thank-you forwards-and-back, in all directions.
It’s just, sometimes I forget. So many lovely and amazing things seeded by past-me that might never have come into form if I hadn’t processed those desires (and the fear around desiring them).
I don’t really have a mechanism for acknowledging the delights of all the gifts I have received from past wishes and the process of wishing.
And here’s the thing, these gifts are amazing, and sometimes even include the thing I was wishing for, but often that is the least interesting part of the treasure. The even-better treasure comes from the wishes themselves.
And two hundred and fifty one weeks of wishing have generated all kinds of beautiful things that I forget to notice and appreciate.
For example!
For example, this week I posted a picture of me from the Guns N Rollers 80s prom on Saturday, wearing a zebra-print mini-dress and five inch heels.
The next morning I suddenly remembered, this was a Wish from nearly two years ago: to feel comfortable having pictures taken, and sharing them.
That wish seemed like The Most Unimaginably Impossible Far-Away thing, and now it’s no big deal and I forget to say: THANK YOU. Thank you, past-me. Thank you, past wishes. Thank you for all the gifts in my life that I forget to notice.
For example. Once I thought the scariest thing to wish for was feeling glamourous, and now I insist upon it. I never would have learned about the secret holiness of glamour if it hadn’t been for that original wish, I think it was a Bond Girl wish.
For example. I had a wish about being a calm activist, standing up to things without being filled with anger, and now I can do that.
For example: So many qualities that seemed distant and unattainable (Harmony, Congruence, Sovereignty, Spaciousness) are now old friends. And yes, it is funny that they seem distant and yet that is still the perception.
Remembering.
And there are many more examples of wishes I made that changed how I am in the world, or things I received from doing the work to investigate my wishes.
I don’t need to remember every example, but I do want to remember every time I make a wish that I will receive so much from wishing:
Everything that comes from writing out this wish is a gift for incoming-me. And maybe she will laugh about how I ever thought this particular thing was hard and complicated.
The essence of this wish — all of its qualities — will be in her life in exactly the right form, and it will be no big deal, and she will glow a happy thank-you back to me of right now.
If I close my eyes and pause and breathe, I can feel it.
Come play.
If you want to say thank you to past-you for past-wishes, or to plant some love for incoming-you, those are both welcome.
You can also share appreciation for the practice, sparks sparked for you, or seed some extra wishes, or whisper magic words.
As always, this is hard stuff. Of course it is. It’s about desire, and whenever we interact with desire there is pain about all the times we didn’t have what we need, and about the vulnerability of wanting.
So: we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We interact with our stuff and with each other with kindness, curiosity and patience to the best of our abilities.
I have endless appreciation for everyone who reads: knowing that you are here helps me write a wish every week. So really it is you I have to thank.
Wish #251: Exits and Strategies.
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
What do I want?
It has to do with exits and strategies, mostly with exits, and possibly also with Exit Strategies, which might need a new name.
It has to do with craving a sense of safety (which does not come from strategies, it comes from me remembering that I am safe).
And it has to do with goodbyes that are doors, and creating beautiful containers for the experiences of endings/beginnings.
That way these endings don’t have to be the sad, aching, everything-is-falling-apart endings of the past few years. They can be conscious, safe, sweet, intentional, infused with love, made from spaciousness, filled with Amnesty. Sometimes closing a door can be peaceful, even joyful…
Okay, the monster crew just gave a big NO to the notion of joyful exits, so we will just leave that as a theoretical concept to revisit later when it feels less scary. And I will conjure up the memory of some exits that I have enjoyed, exits that felt like FREEDOM.
What do I know so far?
A lot of endings on the horizon. Or really, a lot of changes that involve exits, in various forms.
Sometimes I am the one doing the exiting, in some cases it is a person or a practice or an experience exiting, in other cases it’s just endings.
And: everything ends. I know that.
The Spy is going away for a long time, a little under three and half years, during which time there will be no way to have contact. The exiting isn’t for a while, but the strategizing is now.
There are other people exiting.
And the lease on the chocolate shop is up in a couple of years and I need to decide if I am staying in the chocolate business.
Or possibly changing the chocolate business: it made no sense that I had a (metaphorical) chocolate shop until my recent nut obsession. So maybe I could fill my shop with nut-based treats and eventually turn it into a nut emporium that happens to have chocolate sometimes?
Or maybe I just want out. Maybe I want to say no instead of not-yes. Maybe I want to find a new yes.
Maybe I still have too much pain over the loss of my big dream, and all the things that happened when all the barns burned. Maybe I don’t want any shop at all, and I just want to be here, in this lovely online space with you.
What do I want?
When I say “strategies”, I think I really mean: Ease.
Mechanisms for ease.
For example, if I know these things are ending, I can prepare for certain aspects. Maybe not for how I will feel necessarily, because how do I know? But I can make things easier on myself.
I can ask Slightly Future And Wiser me what she knows and what might help.
I can come up with practices that might help with the missing and with the transition.
What do I know about this?
Huh. Most of the time when I think about loss and my relationship with loss — and I don’t believe endings have to be about loss necessarily, just that this is how I have perceived these particular past endings….
I am used to endings being sudden.
Or if gradual, unseen and unexpected. Endings for me have typically been of the [holy shit I never thought that would happen] variety.
Sudden endings: One of my best friends taking his life. Taking, taking it where? Ending it. Or my beloved mentor turning on me out of the blue and attacking with stories, assumptions, misunderstandings, lawyers. Rena dying. No warning.
Gradual endings: Relationships unraveling. The person who used to say “you are glowing in my mind, goodnight-goodnight my beautiful lover” becoming the person who says “thanks for your words, I’ll probably talk to you later”. Realizing that the center I’d been dreaming of for years and had finally built was never going to be able to sustain itself, and saying goodbye to all the time, money and energy that had gone into making it just right, and letting it turn into a chocolate shop that I didn’t want because that was the only option I could see.
Those endings were like waking up and taking forever to realize that everything in the dream was a dream, shaking off cobwebs, slowly piecing together the new reality.
Suddenly, now, there are all these endings approaching, and I can see them and I even know the dates of their arrival, this is new.
What do I want?
The quality of this month is effervescence, and I think that is important:
What if these endings can happen with lightness.
What if these endings don’t have to be crumpled-on-the-floor-in-tears, watching the barns burn, moving through the shock in waves.
What if these endings have to do with choice. What if I meet them with bubbling effervescent aliveness
Like I said last week in my wish:
More lightness. More light.
The same thing that happens when I view the bells / when I am a bell.
What if I can ring in these endings, these new doors….
What else do I know about my wish?
It is going to be okay, whether I come up with strategies or not.
I can handle these exits, I know about doors.
All I need to do for now is seed the qualities I want, breathe them, practice living with them, get to know them, plant them in my compass. Eight breaths in eight directions, so that I put myself to bed inside of a compass and I walk down the street inside of a compass and I meet the new whatever-will-be inside of my compass.
What will help me with my wish?
Writing some goodbyes.
Inventing some rituals to play with, some for me and some will allow me and the to practice at the same time even though we won’t be connected in other ways.
Finding out what I need, what will help this feel safe and supported. Crying as much as I need to cry. All forms of release are valid. Permission and legitimacy to the emotions stirred up by endings.
Remembering that Now Is Not Then. These endings are new endings.
Anything else? Starting points?
Interviewing Incoming me. Skipping as many stones as possible. Writing and Righting. Xs and Ys. Beautiful dances. To be wonderfully surprised. Red lipstick. Eight breaths. My body gets the deciding vote. Thank you in advance.
My compass for these wishes:
Sustenance. Trust. Presence. Release. Anchoring. Shelter. Glowing. Receiving.
What else do I want?
- Everything is easier than I thought, and look, miracles everywhere.
- I go out dancing at the ballroom.
- This doesn’t require my input!
- Ha, it’s so perfect that it turned out like this. Past me is a GENIUS
- I have what I need, and I appreciate it. There are resources to do this.
- Trust and steadiness. I can see why this moment is good.
- Hawaii. What if Hawaii is not in Hawaii.
- I am fearless and confident. I do the brave things and it is not even a big deal, and I still get sparklepoints, yay.
- This week’s ops: Recovery Recovery Recovery.
Clues?
“I am intimately familiar with the music of not-no. I play that music. All echoes and reverb.”
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka bells and wishes…
I am so happy about last week’s wishes, and also the week before. Also, did I tell you guys that I got a ride to Bellevue? Thank you, dear Tree, and everyone who wanted to help.
In short, I had an absolutely incredible time during Operation Bell View, and an amazing experience exiting it (see, I know how to exit gracefully now, I just forget that I know this), and was able to take exquisite care of myself, which is what I wanted most.
The superpowers of bubbles and bubbling are still with me, amazingly. And I was even able to Trust In Pleasure, which is one of the things I find hardest.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I wish to whisper a whisper about the Monster Manual! It comes paired with the world’s best coloring book, which does so much monster-dissolving magic that even if you wait to try the techniques, you’ll still feel better about everything.
Self-fluency is hard enough, we need ways to to interact with the thoughts-fear-worry-criticism that shuts down creative exploring. And when people get the manual, I am able to me spend more time writing here. So if you don’t need help with monsters, get one for a friend. Or plant a wish that someone gets it for you! And bring people you like to hang out here. The more of us working on our stuff, the better for all of us. ♡
Keep me company?
Consider this an open invitation to deposit wishes, gwishes, personal ads. In any size/form you like, there’s no right way. Updates on past experiments are welcome too, as is anything sparked for you.
Commenting culture: This is safe space for creative exploration. We are on permanent vacation from care-taking and advice-giving. We are here to play.
Let’s throw things in the pot! And: Amnesty. Leave a wish any time you want.
xox