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.
Visions #226: when wanting is hard
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
Each week I write these Visions of Possibility and Anticipation to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.
I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!
Wanting is such a funny thing, isn’t it.
Such a funny, complex, highly-charged thing.
I have been doing this ritual every week for four and a half years now, and I keep re-discovering just how loaded it is to want something.
Sometimes the wishes that seem incredibly simple can be the most fraught.
Desire is about identity and change. All kinds of Stuff hiding out in there.
Anyway, this week I thought my wish was a straightforward one — it has to do with a gym bag that has particular characteristics.
A gym bag. What’s the big deal, right? An obtainable and relatively inexpensive item that could make a number aspects of my daily life both easier and more congruent.
I made some notes about the bag, and then ran smack into an ambush of what seemed like hundreds of different monsters, including some familiar faces like You Are A Spoiled Brat and Why Can’t You Just Make Do.
And a very quiet one, more like a wall, who believes that Wanting Is Dangerous, and that this one in particular should be kept under wraps.
So I was sitting patiently with the wall, getting to know it, because the wall is not the impediment to the destination, and stuff got a little weird, as it sometimes does.
I kept with it, because I believe hard in the transformative power of rabbit holes. Especially when the monsters start jumping up and down and yelling, “Distraction! Procrastination!”.
Yup. That’s definitely a sign I’m onto something important.
I discovered some deep identity stuff that had to do with PLACE. Or: with being at home in my life, in the context of living in a particular place.
It started with one of my time gremlins saying if I had a car, I wouldn’t need this bag to fill so many functions. And if I had a car, I wouldn’t need to live in Portal Land, because one of the reasons for Portal Land is that it is a great place to be someone who doesn’t want a car.
Not that I’m leaving Portal Land any time in the near future that I know of. I have a ten year lease on the imaginary chocolate shop, and I own a house, and my friends are here, and I love the bridges and the rivers and Rally. Mostly I love Rally. But I was seriously asking myself if living here is what I want, and I got there from the gym bag.
Do you see? Wanting is a big, complex thing. No wonder I avoid peeking at my wishes. They hold so much.
So let’s play. What do I want.
Starting with the qualities.
The reason this wish about the bag is so complicated is that the bag has become an accidental proxy for Big Questions About Identity And Purpose And Belonging.
Which is apparently what I need to be processing right now, and if it weren’t the bag, something else would be bringing this up for me.
So if it’s not about the bag (but it also is very much about the bag), what are the qualities I want in the bag?
Because I think it’s a safe bet that the qualities I want the bag to have will show me what I want in my life in general.
I want:
Ease. Spaciousness. Freedom. Options. Play. Pleasure. Delight. Glowing.
And…since desire is legitimate, what if it is okay for me to want these things, in a variety of different forms?
And then maybe a name for it.
Gym bag is kind of funny, since I don’t actually go to a gym.
I take a lot of dance classes. And I like to get down on the floor to have/be yoga, and I also like to dress like Bond Girl, so I require a couple of different clothing options at all times.
Plus I don’t have any positive associations with gym bags.
If I metaphor mouse this, my associations with [gym bag] include things like +sweaty, +gross, +heavy, +weighed down, +bulky, +inelegant.
The thing I want is not like that. The thing I want is sleek, sexy, easy to use, saves me time and doesn’t hurt my shoulder. It is its own kind of costume. And it is a home for things that need homes.
What does this make me think of? Well, spies need to be prepared. Mission-ready. This bag is about being mission-ready. And feeling comfortable and confident while embarking on whatever adventures are in store.
This bag is an ally for me. It is packed by Barrington. It exists to help me, and I want to meet it.
It might not have a name yet, but it will.
Details about the Bag That Does Not Yet Have A Name.
It does a variety of things.
It has to have a separate compartment to hold my dance shoes. Ideally two separate compartments, one for dance shoes and one for socks and sports bras. Yes, plural.
It needs outside pockets, so I have easy access to pen and paper if I need.
It needs to close, and it needs to be waterproof, because I live in Portal Land.
It needs to be able to hold a water bottle, notebook, change of clothes, and possibly a few other things.
I have bags that do these things, and the one I was using this morning fits this description. But walking with it for twenty minutes to the bus stop hurts my back.
It can’t be a purse or even a cross-body bag, because sometimes I’m carrying a lot of things, and I can feel my shoulders reacting to the weight. It really needs to be a backpack or something super comfortable to wear.
But also be attractive and sexy. Oh hi there, You Are Never Satisfied With Anything monsters.
Anything else I know about this?
I often think that what I want (whatever it happens to be) is impossible, and that I am the only person who has a need for it.
I want to remind myself that someone has already invented this. It exists. It is obtainable. And it probably isn’t a big deal, it only feels like it is because so much is tied up in the wanting.
So there it is. What I am really wanting (the want behind the want) is permission to want seemingly disparate things. I want to believe, always, that many things are possible. I want to remember that there are options and perfect simple solutions. And that it is okay for me to wish for them.
What might help?
Throwing it all into the pot. Wearing a costume. Interviewing the me who has solved this.
Treating it like another element of going on missions.
Asking you guys for recommendations and links to look at.
What I want.
Some of these are secret agent code or silent retreat. Some are qualities and some are dreams. Some are re-asks and some are pre-wishes: tiny seeds for future processing.
- Progress on the ops!
- Miracles everywhere.
- Regular gigs at the ballroom, which is also the Spiegelsaal.
- 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 is money for this.
- I can see why this moment is good.
- Trust and steadiness.
- Hawaii.
This week’s ops?
This week might be about finishing up the dossier of The life of a Chocolatier, and it might be about the Book of Salves. It is definitely still about borders/boundaries, and about dancing.
I’m playing with…
Dance. Nap. Bath. Tea. Compass. Spirals. Taking care of myself.
Requests and announcements!
This year’s 26 Rallies are mostly full, but there are eight Rallies that have openings. Take a look at the new page…
I would also like support for our magical Red Rose Ballroom — likes on Facebook is great, as is spreading the word to anyone you know who might want to have an event, program, party, anything at all in Portland…

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka I want to write…
I wrote at Rally. Not any of the writing I thought I’d do, but other writing. Different writing. I skipped a lot of stones, and that was amazing.
And I learned some incredibly useful things about Eve Wild, who is Rocker Me, who is the me that Honey the Bounty Hunter was searching for.
Thank you, writing. Thank you, me who asked.
Playing. Shelter for the comments.
What’s welcome: Your own wishes, gwishes, visions and personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like. Things sparked for your own process.
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
We ask for what we need, and we give each other space and spaciousness for the process.
This is a place of safety for creative play and exploration, with a very non-dogmatic approach. We don’t tell each other how to ask for things and we don’t give unsolicited advice. We play.
That’s it. Let’s throw a bunch of things in the pot!
As always, amnesty applies. Leave a wish here any time you want.
xox
Friday Chicken #275: hello there, November!
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday}
What worked?
Flowers.
Flowers make everything better.
I know this, and then I forget it.
Also if you have a bouquet of flowers, you can split it up into a dozen or so tiny jars and vases all around the house, and then you have flowers everywhere, making everything better not just in general but in all the places at once.
This week I got Flowers From Floopers (my favorite thing!) and I-love-you-flowers that did double-duty as apology-flowers.
Flowers were a clew.
Dressing up.
This week was Rally (Rally!), and it was Rally C and I was there as Honey the Bounty Hunter.
I kind of assumed Honey the Bounty Hunter would dress like Rocker Me. But it turns out that she likes to wear fitted dresses and Bond Girl boots. Honey the Bounty Hunter is a grown up — a super sexy one, and ridiculously confident. Costumes are everything, again.
She got to be in charge of my Rally projects, and she knew exactly what to do with them. Laissez les bon temps roulez!
Next time I might…
Pause for eight breaths.
Be the compass.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Someone who loves me very much said a thing that was so incredibly cruel (or perceived that way by me) that I actually went into shock, and for about twenty minutes nothing in the world made sense. It reminded me of the time my beloved mentor suddenly turned on me. Like the floor had suddenly disappeared. A breath for pain.
- All week I kept filtering experiences through this person’s words, suddenly viewing a variety of my day-to-day choices and delights through the eyes of someone who could (possibly, sometimes) see me that way, and it hurt. A breath for releasing this untruth, and for whatever needs to happen to heal this.
- Sometimes it seems like there are not enough hours in the day to skip all the stones I want to skip. A breath for desiring more time to process and explore.
- In a dance class: answering yes when the answer was no. A breath for the perception of not being able to explain myself.
- My quiet daily yoga ritual disappeared this week due to [factors]. A breath for missing the thing that helps.
- Cultural stuff. A breath for outsider complex. Whoosh! Elevator shaft!
- I uncovered an entire storage closet of shame. A breath for all the things that want to be released.
- Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- The person who loves me and said the very hurtful thing knew the exact right way to apologize. A breath for feeling heard and treasured.
- Five hour Whiskey River Jitterbug workshop!!! A breath for Dancer Me getting to play.
- House full of flowers. A breath for beauty.
- Knowing what I want. A breath for forward movement.
- RALLY RALLY RALLY OHMYGOD RALLY. Rally C! I worked on things that have been stuck for months, and all of a sudden they were easy. A breath for magic.
- Improved communication with someone I love. A breath for gifts.
- My wonderfully supportive housemate packed me a delicious lunch each day for Rally, with a homemade pickle too. A breath for feeling deeply cared for.
- My dance partner is just the right dance partner. A breath for feeling safe, playful, and feeling like a gazelle even when I have no idea what I’m doing.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
Operation Emu-
Operation Dru Yearly Mission: Sneakoween aka Invisiween aka HunkerdownoweenUndercover: Flushing OutOperation Salve/Salve IOperation By The Count
WHAM! BOOM!
Superpowers!
A superpower I had this week…
The superpower of being okay with being seen!
(!!!!!)
Yes.
And I also had the Billy Zoom superpowers I asked for last week. Nice!
And a superpower I want next week.
The twin superpowers of graciously letting go and graciously receiving.
Salve.
The salve of letting go.
This salve dissolves internal rules and restrictions so that suddenly you become aware that you already have let go of all kinds of things you didn’t even realize were weighing you down. Whoosh! There they go.
This salve knows that spaciousness and safety are not mutually exclusive. It gives you both at the same time.
If you are not a salve person (today or in general), you can have this in tea form or in pill form or as a shower or whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.
Hello, November!
I was feeling a little sad about exiting October, the month of MUCHNESS, with its cheery calendar image featuring a badonkadonk of buttmonsters, and the superpower of finding comfort unexpectedly.
But I turned the page and guess what, I found even more comfort unexpectedly, because November is all about experimentation, which is exactly what I need. Delight!

This month’s quality: CURIOSITY.
November comes in with the superpower of All Experiments Are Useful And Valid, which is pretty much exactly what I need right now.
Hello, November. I’m glad we’re here. Thank you, October, for being lovely.

Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band:
Go Lint Yourself
They seem to have a lot of accordions. Which is weird, because I’m pretty sure it’s just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. ANNOUNCEMENT.
You guys you guys you guys!
I am going to once again loudly (for me) recommend the Monster Manual & Coloring Book., which helped me empty out the shame closets without having to actually go inside of them.
AND. If you know people in Portland and you can help spread the word about our Red Rose Ballroom or help do that on facebook, that would be hugely appreciated!
Come play if you like…
Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us check in with a hi or a ♡, 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.
That’s good enough for me.
C is for the golden compass.
C is for courage.
C is for crown. C is for costumes.
And it’s good enough for me.
By which I mean:
“C is for cookie, that’s good enough for me.”
And also: that it is good. It is good enough. It is good enough for me. It is good enough and it is for me. It works for me.
These are the things that I see when I see C.

These are the things that I see when I see C.
C is also for the chocolate in my imaginary chocolate shop.
And C is for carousel. With a buttmonster riding a C!
C is for Congruence, and up until last week being a chocolatier felt like the most incongruent thing possible, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. I think I might be wrong.
C is for course, of course. And for changing course.
So many gorgeous things that come with C.
Spy-words, for one thing….
Like Code. I have a blog and it is written in code! Cryptograph. Contact. Cooperation. Counter-intelligence! Cipher.
Mmmmm, I love this one so much…are you ready for this? Casting. In all sense of the word.
Casting like roles. Casting like iron. Casting like spells. Casting like throwing away and releasing. Let us cast things. Let us cast things off and cast things away.
Oh, and another thing I love. Conviviality, a marvelous word — and superpower — that I will forever associate with Max!
She brought it to Rally (Rally!) a couple years ago, and I can still picture the way she said it with a gigantic smile, as if the very existence of the word was filling her with delight.
C is colors, all the colors! Including cerulean and crimson. C is for coloring in monsters.
Calling in begins with C.
Let’s call in some of the qualities that start with C.
Creativity. Calling. Counsel. Cadence. Calm. Courage. Clasping. Collaboration. Companionship. Community. Conductivity. Connection. Compassion. Communication. Counter-point. Canopy. Competence. Confidence. Courtship. Court! Containers. Containment. Contentment. Cradling. Comfort. Continuity. Commitment. Closeness. Cohesion. Catalyst.
C is cycles and crossing. Coasts and coasting. Caring and being cared for. Celebrating and being celebrated. Charms and feeling charmed.
C is change. C is Choice. C is Clarity. C is being cheered up. And cheering, in general.
C is the superpower of COMPLETION: every thing gets to the point it needs to get to so that I can move on to the next piece.
And another kind of C.
Right now, for me, C is for option C. The Third Way. The thing that is not A-or-B.
So possibly C is for Compromise? Or maybe the third way is something better than compromise.
For me this not-A-and-not-B is about possibility.
The C is a new and delightful way that I haven’t been able to see. It is a seeing — that I can’t C, or maybe a C I can’t see. But it is there. It is the hidden pathway.
And since there may be infinity-pathways, let C stand for:
Any pathway that is both desirable and available to me, but as yet unseen by me.
I want to believe in C! This is my wish.
And I want my C to seem accessible, not far-away or tooth-fairy-like. Not some distant wished-for miracle. An actual viable possibility. Not a ship that might come in some day. Something that is here.
C means: I can step onto the new pathway once I know it exists. Or, I can at least make a path from where I am towards C.
But the most important thing about C is that it exists.
Just because I haven’t thought of it it yet or found it yet does not mean that it is not there. It is there, waiting for me to remember it.
It is on the tip of my tongue. It is just around the corner. It is incoming. It is the other door opening when one closes. There is a world of C that wants me to open my eyes and my heart to it.
It is my sea. My C and my see and my sea!
It is already happening, I think.
Last week was Rally B, the second of this year’s Alphabet Rallies and the 27th ever Rally, I think.
I spent a lot of time with words that start with B, and I was on a reality show that wasn’t real, and I resolved my existential crisis, which was awesome.
And one of the things I learned was that Forgiveness has a silent B. That is, it has a silent BE.
The week of B turned out to be the week of BE.
I am convinced that everything at this week’s Rally — Rally C — will have a silent SEE. And possibly a silent SEA. It will be the week of seeing things I have not seen before.
I can’t wait to find out what that is like.

May it be so! And come play with me.
We can say words that start with C. We can sing C IS FOR COOKIE.
(That’s good enough for me).
If you want to whisper words or sound effects that appeal to you, go for it. If you want to share in any of qualities, you can. They work like the salves in the Friday Chicken: just take some, there is always more.
If you want to throw some superpowers into the pot for Rally, that is welcome.
Waving from the Playground! Whispering loving spells that begin with C, for myself, and for anyone who wants…
Visions #225: I want to write
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
Each week I write these Visions of Possibility and Anticipation to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.
I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!
I have to give you a glorrrrrrious update!
Generally at the end of these, I like to peek at what I asked for the the week before to get a sense of how things are developing.
At the very least, I usually notice an interesting pattern or two, or I learn something about the hidden emotional content of my desires.
Quite often — and to my continued astonishment — I discover that I ended up getting some especially lovely aspect of the thing I wanted. Something that I did not expect (or even know existed!) when I was asking.
Last week is especially interesting because I did not ask directly about the thing I wanted.
What I wanted was a resolution for the Boring Existential Crisis that I’ve been in for the past four months, centered around [situation] with the Chocolaterie, but also impacting everything else in my life.
I didn’t think that was possible, so I asked for POPPING. And popping UP and things that POP. And then I made a quiet commitment to work on Operation B.E.C.K.O.N. — Boring Existential Crisis in the Key of N — at Rally B.
Well, things popped. Many, many things.
And one of the things that popped (in the sense of exploded) was my existential crisis, which ended up getting COMPLETELY RESOLVED while I was at Rally!
So I just want to pause, and take a breath of appreciation for that.

What do I want this week and moving forward…
I want to write.
I want to write stones.
I want to process and discover and reveal.
I want to write about Roxy. About Roxy, with Roxy, for Roxy. Roxy is Assertive Me. Roxy is a lot of things.
I want to interview Eve Wild, who is also Roxy. Roxy might even be Eve Wild’s middle name, if that makes sense. I’m not sure if it does.
I want to seed wishes that have to do with [habits] and [boundaries]: skin, flowers, ritual, hegedim — I can’t translate, but it is somewhere between aspirations and affirmations.
I want to find out why. I want to ask WHY about so many different things. And not an angry why. Not a why with an agenda. An open loving curious why. If there are two kinds of why, more like ten times why and less like wheel-grinding why.
And specifically, why I choose not to do things that are obviously good for me, and why I choose to do things that are obviously bad for me.
Again, not a critical why. Not a guilt-driven why. Just genuine curiosity: How come like this? What’s up with that. What do I know about this.
I want to write from the voice who knows how to ask with lots of love and zero expectations. Simple, present and adoring. Who is the me who knows how to do that?
I want to tell stories using the treasure box of tiny stones.
I want time for this writing. To make time for this writing. To remember that it is okay to drop everything and write, even though this is scary.
What will help?
Early to bed.
Something to block out the noise.
Packing lunch.
Cafe dates.
Wearing a costume.
And this week is Rally (Rally!). This is the first time in over three years of holding Rally that we’re doing two-in-a-row. I can’t wait to find out what that’s like. Given that the first week dissolved my crisis, I imagine that whatever is INCOMING is going to be pretty outrageous.
These are all things in the hard. What will help in the soft?
Planting it here. Wishing. Symbols. Secret agent code.
What else do I know about this?
Writer me is dancer me, and dancer me is writer me.
Being a follow is being present. Being a writer is being present.
This is the ultimate spy mission, isn’t it.
The qualities inside of the wants:
Let’s see.
Flow. Presence. Ease. Delight. Shelter. Access. Creativity. Wildness.
And the superpower of It Is Already Happening And All I Had To Do Was Notice.
What else do I want….
Some of these are secret agent code or silent retreat. Some are qualities and some are dreams. Some are re-asks and some are pre-wishes: tiny seeds for future processing.
- Progress on the ops!
- Miracles everywhere.
- Regular gigs at the ballroom, which is also the Spiegelsaal.
- 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 is money for this.
- I can see why this moment is good.
- Trust and steadiness.
- Hawaii.
This week’s ops?
This week is about finishing up the dossier of The life of a Chocolatier, possibly about MAGIC EIGHT BALL REASONS, and about borders/boundaries. Also about dancing.
I’m playing with…
Dancing. Costumes. Emergency calming techniques. That page is many years old and needs rewriting. Maybe that’s one of this week’s asks too!
Request!
Can you help support our magical Red Rose Ballroom by liking it on Facebook? And spreading the word about the Red Rose Ballroom to anyone you know who might want to run events or programs or parties in Portland?
Announcement!
Last chance to get on the STANDBY list for Rally (Rally!)
Only a few rallies have openings, and we will be announcing them soon….

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka popping up everywhere…
I wanted pop-up shops for the Ballroom, and we might do one with Mary. But mainly I learned that it doesn’t matter what happens in the ballroom. What matters is that I follow and don’t try to lead, and that I do things that make me feel joyful.
I wanted other forms of popping, and everything popped. Rally was full of POP and delight. Also we popped many, many bubbles together while giggling and tossing teddy bears at the ceiling. I talked to Hopeless Me. I found passion about things. It was a pretty great week. Hard. Full of hard. I ran into ALL MY STUFF, especially my stuff about Shame. But then that popped too.
Yay for things that pop.
Big love to me-of-last-week, as always, for knowing what to ask.
Playing. Shelter for the comments.
What’s welcome: Your own wishes, gwishes, visions and personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like. Things sparked for your own process.
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
We ask for what we need, and we give each other space and spaciousness for the process.
This is a place of safety for creative play and exploration, with a very non-dogmatic approach. We don’t tell each other how to ask for things and we don’t give unsolicited advice. We play.
That’s it. Let’s throw a bunch of things in the pot!
As always, amnesty applies. Leave a wish here any time you want.
xox
Chicken #274: a thousand points coming through!
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday}
What worked?
Asking what the next move is.
Over and over again.
What’s the next move, chicken?
And then I just acted on that. Sometimes I really needed to know two moves, or otherwise I wouldn’t feel motivated to make the first one. Or because I felt scared that I wouldn’t move at all once I did the first one.
But basically, all I did was ask. What’s the next move, chicken? And sometimes: What’s the move immediately after that?
If I did things that weren’t the next move, then they became the next move because Nothing Is Wrong and This Is Right. And that worked too.
What’s next, chicken? Spill tea all over yourself! DONE! Sparklepoints!
What’s next, chicken? Ask the same thing again.
Being Billie.
This week was Rally (Rally!), and it was Rally B and I decided my name should begin with B this week, and then that took over everything and being Billie became my Rally project, and also a proxy within a proxy, and it was wonderful.
Laissez les bon temps roulez!
Yup.
Next time I might…
Remember that not-doing is part of doing.
It’s not a distraction. It’s not procrastination.
It’s allowing things to percolate, and it’s a vital part of the creative process.
A thousand points for not-doing! And trust. The not-doing is helping things move along, not getting in the way.
And everything else I do that is [not the thing] helps too, because: fractal flowers.
This is an INCREDIBLY subversive concept, especially in our protestant work ethic culture, and I am only able to work with this because Rally has demonstrated, over and over and over again, that it is true. But even remembering this is going against everything I have ever been taught in life.
A thousand billion points for the bravery of even entertaining this as an idea.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Hahahaha! 4am is the worst time to be woken up by an incredibly painfully loud smoke detector announcing its battery issues. If there had been an actual fire, the damages suffered would have not have been from fire but severe hearing loss and noise trauma. A breath for waking in terror.
- Not wanting to work on the thing I thought I wanted to work on. A breath for trust.
- I want to dance all day every day, and I don’t know how to do that while being in charge of an online business and twenty six rallies and a ballroom that is also a chocolate shop. Actually, I do know how to do that, but I am worried about it. A breath for how scary it is to know what you want.
- The day (more like three days) where everything was, as Max puts it, eight degrees off. A breath for feeling off balance and tumbling.
- A surprise visit from Loneliness, and the false perception that no one wants to play with me. A breath for how sometimes Ludicrous Fear Popcorn feels so completely real.
- A dance class where it felt like I was not only not making progress, but actively getting worse. And an uncomfortable feeling with a partner. A breath for everything about this. Whoosh! Elevator shaft!
- Worried about so many things. A breath for all the things.
- Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- Saying thank you about all the good things. Playing Eleven Times Yay (exactly what it sounds like) with Oliver Danni! A breath for appreciation and delight.
- Accidentally lucked into a private WCS dance lesson with a fantastic teacher. A breath for getting the just-right thing handed to you on a platter.
- Marisa and Anna and I had a bad-mood picnic in the sun and then we went on an outing. A breath for friends.
- I did a wonderful-wackadoodle session with Max that involved Tarzan and Billy Zoom. My wish was to get something actionable, but I got something even better which is the realization that I truly am not worried about what I choose. A breath for suspicions confirmed, and playmates.
- RALLY RALLY RALLY OHMYGOD RALLY. Rally B! A breath for everything that is Rally. Also: best ever compelling spirals practice. With HIPS. We did a cha-cha’d version of a Ke$ha song. A breath for hilarity and playfulness.
- At the last Rally (Rally A), I worked on Assertiveness, which starts with an A, and dealt with a bully in the building and made all kinds of Assertive Requests. Guess what! Two of them were approved this week! A breath for the superpower of Assertiveness and the wonderful gifts it holds.
- Playing sparklepoints-for-things-undone at the Frolicsome bar! A breath for playfulness and company.
- Coming through! My whole weekend is filled with dancing. Ballroom tonight, Thrill The World tomorrow, jitterbug workshop on Sunday. I am so excited about this. I told my dance partner, “It’s like all my dreams are coming true!”. Except I wrote COMING THROUGH instead of coming true. I was right. All my dreams are coming through. Watch out, we’re coming through! A breath for pure undiluted joy.
Also! On the day where everything was eight degrees off, there was much tripping. Literally and figuratively. At one point, traipsing down some steps, I completely missed a step and tumbled. While wearing three inch heels. But then nothing happened. My body just rebalanced itself mid-tumbling, and I was fine. I am still not sure how this happened. It seems like at the very least I should have twisted an ankle and/or fallen on my face.
An extra breath of thank you for core strength and balance from fifteen years of yoga, and for inexplicable miracles. I guess all miracles are inexplicable. Or maybe they’re very explicable. But it was an amazing moment.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
This week was all about my Boring Existential Crisis, which is no longer boring, existential or a crisis, so I’m going to say: WHAM BOOM to that!
Superpowers!
A superpower I had this week…
The superpower of trusting that things that seemed like rabbit holes were actually doors to where I wanted to go! And they were.
And the superpower of Forgiveness with a Silent B. Also the superpower of realizing that a silent B is also a silent be.
Forgiveness has a silent BE.
This is truth.
And a superpower I want next week.
The superpowers of Billy Zoom. Serene, capable, smiling confidence.
Salve.
The salve of Forgiveness with a Silent B.
This salve works like a deep exhale that runs through your whole history, releasing everything that is done.
It finds all the hidden scabs that are filled with shame, and dissolves the shame in such a way that the edges heal beautifully.
This is not the kind of forgiveness that comes from a person, it’s not about that. It is heart-forgiveness, internally and externally directed, and it feels like love. Because it is. That’s the secret of the Silent Be.
You don’t need to do anything. You just are.
The best thing about this salve is you don’t even have to rub it in. I mean, you can if you want to. But this cool thing happens where you just dip your finger into the jar and then it’s almost like you are the salve.

Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band:
YOMBA.
They’re from Amboy, Washington, and they are an anagram, and yes, it’s just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. ANNOUNCEMENT.
You guys you guys you guys!
I wand to once again loudly (for me) recommend the monster manual and coloring book, which solved many problems for me this week.
I had so many monsters this week, so much shame, so much fear, so many internal accusations. These are the techniques and concepts that helped. Plus coloring makes everything better. It just does.
Get the Monster Manual & Coloring Book.
AND. If you know people in Portland and you can help spread the word about our Red Rose Ballroom or help do that on facebook, that would be hugely appreciated!
Come play if you like…
Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us check in with a hi or a ♡, 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.
