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.
A two-sentence conversation about praise and time.
I shared a love story the other day about red lights. And about loving them.
Red lights as a form of pause and pleasure. As a door into presence. Presence that comes from deliberate, intentional stopping, and an adoring commitment to sweet slowness.
Slow and more slowness.
Watching a cup of water fill, slowly, over time.
It is funny that this was already on my mind because this morning I found myself at Fressen, which is a (German, obviously) bakery/cafe here in Portal Land.
It is a place that combines German food, German thoroughness, German social-awkwardness and the wonderful thing that is German hospitality with a calm slowness that is unbelievably slow.
It is not a slowness I associate with Germany, with the exception of my many happy memories of delightfully lazy five hour breakfasts that were the hallmark of underemployed artist culture in Berlin when I lived there.
It is a slowness I associate more with say, New Mexico.
Eight and a half minutes from the moment of ordering at the counter to the moment when the interaction finally turned to the part where I got to pay for my order.
The water dispenser there drips so slowly that it takes a full three minutes to get a glass of water. Nothing to do but surrender and breathe.
That water dispenser is like a yoga pose. Or the longest, sexiest red light.
You let the glass fill with water. And you breathe.
I watched myself wanting to do anything but wait for the water.
Wanting to pick up a newspaper, check my phone, take a photo, anything really.
And at the same time, the superpower I’m currently working with is “resting into miracles”. So I thought: what if I rest into this filling of the water glass?
A tiny meditation in letting things fill up again. Emptying and replenishing, the theme of my year.
What if this unthinkably slow water dispenser (seriously, dispense is not even the correct verb here) is a gift of ALL THE SLOW STEADY BREATHS I NEED.
Through living in silence, I’ve learned to get really comfortable with pauses and space with people. What if the next part is getting comfortable with three long, slow minutes of letting something fill? As if this water dispenser is on its own form of silent retreat.
What if this water dispenser is a well? Hydration is what I want. Worth waiting for. If I want it.
Another piece of truth: I can change what I want. Freedom.
Praise.
I have not (yet?) read the book In Praise of Slowness.
Maybe because the title is so full of wisdom that I feel as though I get to absorb all I could ever need to know, just by letting those gorgeous words reverberate in the halls of my body-mind.
Praise. Slowness. In Praise. Of Slowness.
It holds the same truth as my other favorite and beautifully succinct phrase, the phrase that would be my tattoo if I wanted to cover myself in words more permanent than the ones I draw on my skin each day:
Worth Waiting For.
It is true for Guinness, and it is true for many, many, many things.
Another memory. I am also remembering that I didn’t read the book because of how Jens II always talked about it with such enthusiasm in his business-degree sort of way. As if it was strategy instead of truth.
Maybe one day. There is time. That’s the thing of it.
There is time. I praise this too.
A conversation between me and my uncle.
This is a photo of a conversation I had with my uncle, who is also my favorite person on earth.
This was the entirety of our discussion. We were both delighted by it.
The conversation was on the topic of how neither of us had taken a morning nap yet. Also on the topic of EVERYTHING.
All possible topics are covered in this note.
There is still time.
Svevo is the king of morning naps. Yes, plural.
Multiple morning naps can take place in Svevo’s morning. I love this about him. Of course, I do not see him on the days when he is teaching first grade, so I do not know what he does instead of morning naps on those days. I’m sure it is restful, charming, and playful, just like him.
The morning of our conversation, no nap had taken place.
We agreed: This is okay. Nothing is wrong. There is still time.
Some secret unsaid things inside this conversation:
- Napping is not a rule. Napping is pleasure. We can’t let ourselves get dogmatic about napping, that is silly.
- Not only will there be ample time for napping, but also there is time for lots of things. Like this interaction, twinkling at each other with eye-crinkle smiles, watching the flowers do their flower thing, all of it.
- If it happens, there was time for it.
- If it didn’t happen and it’s important, time will be found for it eventually.
- A morning nap is a delicious red light. Pause. Breathe. Percolate. Integrate.
- Sometimes not-a-nap can be its own red light too. Lots of things are pauses.
- There are so many forms of delicious red light!
Truth: There is not time for all the things I want.
There is not time for all the things I want. Like writing blog posts and running two businesses and all the things in my life right now.
There is not time for all the things I want. At least, not unless I change how I want.
But there is time for one thing that I choose to be doing now. One thing, beautifully and lovingly breathed. The one thing that is standing in for many different things.
And: There is time for all kinds of important things.
There is time to ask: If I can’t have time for all the things, what needs to go?
What needs to change in my kingdom? What needs to exit my kingdom?
There is time for recognizing: “Yeah, that bus was not my bus. I know it was not my bus because look: I am not on it.”
There is time for stopping a conversation, a meeting, an interaction and saying, “Hey, I need to pause and breathe for a minute.”
There is time for writing a secret word on the palm of your hand with your finger.
There is time to touch your heart and love it: HEART. It’s me. Hi.
There is time for five breaths of peacefulness.
Time for all kinds of important things. Time for praising all kinds of important things.
How we play here. You are invited.
This is that very rare thing that is safe space on the internet, and for that to work, we lovingly commit to not giving each other advice and not caretaking.
Within that, you can play any way you like. I am receptive to appreciation, wonder and delight, things you noticed or sparks sparked for you about red lights and related themes, ways you are going to play with this.
And I will always always always take flowers, because flowers make everything better.
Visions #200: Emergence. Yes.
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!
TWO HUNDRED WEEKS of visioning today.
Wow.
We might as well celebrate. Which is convenient, because the last two of my big wishes this week are celebratory ones, and the first one is in need of some of that energy too.
Thing 1. Allowing Emergence to come from Emergency.
The situation. And background.
This week I sat with a scary work emergency and I tried to make it anything but.
I tried letting it be an adventure, an edge, a door.
But in the end I had to surrender to the true sensation of it in my body: it felt like emergency. With the parts that are urgent and vital, scary and painful, overwhelming and disheartening.
And then I noticed that “emergency” holds Emergence, a word I love.
So that’s what I want. I want Emergence to emerge from what felt like a state of emergency.
We put the EMERGENCE in… no, wait, that’s not right, we take the emergence out of emergency. It’s all emergence.
Hilariously, I also noticed this week that Compass is hiding in plain sight right inside of Compassion, a word that I often put into my word-compasses.
What I want.
Emergence. I want emergence.
Miracles to emerge. Perfect simple solutions to reveal themselves. Those moments of grace meets faith meets elegant previously-not-considered option.
And I want to feel what it is like to translate in my body from “oh no this is wrong” to “oh wait, nothing is wrong, this is useful and there are doors everywhere”.
What might help?
- NPH! Naps as portalbridges to [things that start with H].
- Asking for help.
- No, really. Asking out loud.
- Reconfiguring.
- Ask over and over again: What do I need?
Anything else?
I got some intel from (internal) HQ about quitting grad school.
(I’m not in grad school, but I had a dream about quitting grad school, and it’s become kind of a stand-in for what do I need to let go of?)
Basically what I got was that all unsovereign things (relationships, situations, encounters) need to leave. Either I end them or they get ended. Either I quit grad school or grad school kicks me.
So I’m sitting with that. Closing circles where I can. Cutting what I can. Saying thank you about endings instead of seeing them as obstacles.
Remembering that red lights don’t mean something is wrong, they mean refuge.
I’m playing with…
Putting compassion into the compass, and letting the compass have compassion.
Looking for words inside of words.
Feeling all the qualities of emergence:
Trust. Newness. Presence. Beginnings. Resetting. Order. Glow. Right timing.
Thing 2. The BUTTMONSTER COLORING BOOK!
The situation. And background.
I tried to write a page about the brand new and completely incredible buttmonster coloring book, which is my absolute favorite thing in the entire world.
Except what I have to say is:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! Squeakitty-squeak! Ohmygod the cuteness it is unbearable.
And even though I watched everyone at last week’s Rally (Rally!) play with the new coloring book while giggling, problem-solving and having mini-epiphanies, I still don’t have anything to say.
I even asked them, and they all went, Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
So that wasn’t helpful at all. 🙂
Also everyone was really into cutting out buttmonster illustrations and gluing them into their notebooks and work stuff for instant cheering up.
What I want.
It’s Plum Duff this week, which means the Buttmonster Coloring Book is for sale, this week only.
Through Toozday night.
I want much rejoicing over the Buttmonster Coloring Book. I want the people who are excited about the wonderful world of these crazy make-everything-better creatures to be united with this coloring book.
I would like little stories about the amazing things that happened at Rally through playing with this new best thing.
What might help?
I am going to give you the link to this.
And I’m going to color in my coloring book.
Anything else?
Look at all these actual buttmonster butts!
I’m playing with…
Living the qualities of buttmonsters:
Playfulness. Glee. Possibility. Delight. Reassurance. Imagination. Calm. Everything-is-okay.
And telling you about the hidden plum duff page (PASSWORD: refuge) so that you can go there and find the buttmonster coloring book and/or adopt buttmonsters!
Trusting that thisis the exact right time for play.
Thing 3. Almost half-price Rally!
The situation. And background.
There is a massive discount on the 2014 Rallies.
This never happens, but it is happening now.
I have been [verb]-ing the magical and extraordinary thing that is Rally (Rally!) for a few years now.
TWENTY FIVE Rallies. That is a lot of Rallying.
I have learned many interesting things, including:
Rally always works. Rally works in unexpected ways, under the surface. Rallying changes how I approach everything in my life. Rallying makes me way better at being me in the world.
Mainly: The way people are after they have rallied (and I get to see this when they come to other rallies) is so remarkably different. People are more patient with themselves, more compassionate, more adventurous and curious in their internal experiments, more steadily calm and grounded, more glowingly beautifully themselves. I believe so hard in the magic of Rally.
We now have three Rallies open in 2014, and I want the people who need them to find them.
What I want.
It is currently Plum Duff (PASSWORD: refuge).
Plum Duff is a very once-in-a-while special thing that we do.
It ends late TUESDAY NIGHT, which is very, very soon.
And during Plum Duff, you can save either $900 or $1000 on Rally in 2014.
Except we call them clues instead of dollars. But still. The clues are very-reduced.
This is a very big deal. We’ve never done this. We’re also retroactively applying this to people who had already signed up for a 2014 Rally.
What might help?
I’m telling you about this now.
I’m playing with…
Rejoicing in Rally through living the qualities of Rally:
Play. Grounding. Possibility. Sovereignty. Freedom. Shelter. Good surprises. Delight.
And telling you about plum duff (PASSWORD: refuge), which is where the sale lives. Until Toozday night.
What else do I want.
Some of these are secret agent code and some are taking a silent retreat on.
Some are qualities and some are dreams. Some are re-asks and some are pre-wishes: tiny seeds for future processing.
- Breathe.
- Easy passage.
- Easy goodbyes.
- A steadiness of purpose.
- Knowing that I have what I need. And if I don’t, I can improvise.
- Good news everywhere!
- Rest into miracles.
- Choosing quiet
- The labyrinth, each day new.
- How many ways are there to quit grad school?
- Hello, sky.
- Coded decoding..
- Preparing for the voyage.
- Safe travels. Easy transitions.
- Ask Barrington.
Repeats from last week.
Either because they’re good ones, or because they need some extra spaciousness.
- Operation Rest Well.
- Respecting the Seven Wells, while remembering that the First Well always comes first.
- Welcome, fears. Come this way. Straight to the hugging room! We have it all set up for you.
- Sweet blissful steadiness.
- Things that need to exit now exit gracefully.
I’m playing with…
Wishing
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted to do way fewer things, with more presence. This actually worked. I am astonished.
I wanted to love the red lights, and I did. And I wanted NPH and Plum Duff, both of which happened. Also I asked for code and good god, was there code this week. So. Much. Code. Entire conversations in code, it was awesome.
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 #249: the diamond, you say
Where I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
I need to express some excitement before we begin.
I just realized. Next Friday is exactly TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHICKENS, you guys.
And this weekend will also be the 200th Very Personal Ads, aka Visions of Possibility and Anticipation.
We celebrate 250 weeks and 200 weeks in the same week! That’s a lot of consecutive weeks to do anything. And I would never do it if you weren’t here to read and play, so thank you. Thank you for shared space and shared ritual. It means a lot to be doing it with you.
Okay. Chicken. Let’s play.
What worked?
Looking for a diamond.
I was chaperoning prom (long story, and — weirdly — not a proxy, an actual thing that I did).
And my secret mission cover story while I was at prom (see, I was really at prom, but I still had a proxy), was that I was there because of a diamond caper.
I was there as Bond Girl, of course — the Woman In The Red Dress — and I was supposed to locate the giant diamond.
Needless to say, I didn’t locate a giant diamond. So I came up with various entertaining metaphorical ways that I had in fact located the diamond. And this was great.
Except then the next day I walked past the place where prom was held. Let’s add to this that I walk there not exactly often but not that infrequently either.
Looking up at the sign for the building I saw the something I have never noticed before.
The name of the building where prom (and other wonderful things in my past) happened is printed on the backdrop of…yes…a giant ****-ing diamond.
Following the wells.
Taking it to the park.
Asking for help.
Yes.
Next time I might…
Ask more, sooner, and out loud.
Look up! Or: look at things I think I’ve already looked at.
The mysteries. Things I found challenging and hard.
- Recovery takes as much time as it wants to, doesn’t it.
- Prom was challenging for me. It was located in a place where I have history. Teenagers are super not in their force fields. I was exhausted from having just come off of [verb]-ing Rally while sick. And: I learned a lot.
- The mystery of falling apart Sunday morning.
- The Pipedream Monsters (mobsters!) were even louder this week. This was fortunate because our subsequent negotiations lead to two big and important reconfigurations in my life. But man, they know where it hurts, and they press right there.
- Deep grief over loss and perceived loss, reconfigurations, changes.
- Oh man. Drama. Getting a piece of intel I didn’t want but felt obligated to act on as it concerned someone I dearly love. Much distress over this until I got an answer that worked for me.
- Getting tickled, by someone who does not know how I feel about tickling. I hate being tickled more than just about anything in the world.
- Possibly related: a hijacking by a small scared Havi who wants me to think that now is like then, when now is not like then.
- Making the hardest decision to give something up that I have spent many years working towards.
- Many, many buckets of tears this week.
Things I found delightful.
- Long happy playtime with playmate in a brand new treehouse.
- Falling apart turned out to be the exact right thing.
- The elusive M. LeBlanc of the Other Agency left an outrageous clue that was fun to follow.
- My two Days of Disappearing on a mission…
- Diamonds were not found, then symbolically found, then actually located. Also a fountain.
- The unexpected thing. It’s deep and unnerving and I love it.
- A sweet dream about someone in my family was followed by a sweet postcard from that person.
- Agent Wally and I refilled my heart with trust, and this was its own mission.
- Seriously everyone in my life is used to speaking in code now.
- Accidental L”g B’omer.
- It seemed like everything was wrong but actually: Nothing is wrong!
- Best Regrounding ever, in a secret oasis.
- This video, which I could watch a hundred times a day.
- Lucky nickel of surprises. (Not a band!)
- Reacted to the tickling better than ever before. Minimal screaming. I did not cause physical damage to the person involved nor break furniture or objects. I was able to explain my distress. Relative to past meltdowns, this was tiny, not massive. Points!
- Nothing is broken, nothing is broken I am allowed to grieve. And: this is right.
- Agents with Agency! New intel from HQ about why this is all happening and what needs to be done about it.
- Plum Duff! It’s Plum Duff. Right now. This is very exciting.
- Amazing epiphanies and results from last week’s Rally (Rally!) are still landing hard. My. God.
- The wonderful win of the Green Machine. Yeah, okay, Champions League was all over the place this week. Halbfinale! Craziness. All that. But let’s talk about the Green Machine, a badass band of 8 year olds, beating the Timbers 10-9.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed:
The phrase Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom is secret agent code that means: this op is done, baby! It is often shortened to WHAM boom. You may also shout (or whisper) other joyous words if you like.
Many ops were completed this week but the most important ones were: Operation Succinctness. and Operation Order the Sh.
Wham boom! Wham boom!
Miracles.
A letter that arrived about how helpful this work is just when I needed most to remember why I do this.
Superpowers.
Superpowers I had this week…
Gorgeous hair that does exactly what looks perfect with zero effort, styling, product or input of any kind from me.
This happens maybe once a year for oh, five minutes. I had this power from Saturday afternoon through Monday night. THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.
And for next week…
Easy transitions.
The Freudian Typo (or autocorrect) Award.
“I’m the flesh” instead of “in the flesh.
It is true.
Salve. Yours if you want it.
This week’s salve is the salve of the fruits from the invisible seeds are on their way, also known as the salve of comfort and trust. Trust in comfort. Take comfort in trust. It has the faintest smell of springtime.
These salves can’t be seen, but the production factory has delivered enough to me to distribute by way of the magic of the internet, so help yourself. There is enough.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
Background. Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once invented hanging out at the Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band thanks to a sign I misread this week.
They’re called…
Automatic Sprinkles.
They’re a little punk, a little metal, and they go all night.
Though as it turns out, it’s just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
PLUM DUFF!
You guys, it is Plum Duff until TOOZDAY, and this means that we have a crazy sale happening.
You can get the magical makes-everything-better and not-otherwise-available buttmonster coloring book.
You can save $900 to $1000 on any 2014 Rally.
This is big.
Also there are toys to squeeze. Plum duff plum duff plum duff plum duff!
Go to the Plum Duff page and enter the password: refuge
That’s it for me …
Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!
We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
Shabbat shalom.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.
Red Lights: A Love Story.
I took it for granted that the green lights were the good ones.
Like a sign . A loving whisper of encouragement: Go.
Permission. Go.
Right timing. Go.
You are ready now. Go.
Red. Light.
Of course green lights are the good ones. Who doesn’t want green?
Except, also, remembering…
Once we were so in love we wanted each second to lengthen: to extend a little longer, hold a few drops more. Walking the streets slowly, delighting in each opportunity to stop. We worshipped red lights, cherished every moment of red.
Leaning into each other slightly. This arm just barely brushing that arm. The sensation of warm breath near my ear. Muscle. Tension. Warmth. Adoration. Pleasure. Pleasure tinged with the pain of future ending.
The sweetness of knowing that each moment of Don’t Walk was another moment of this.
You forget, and then you remember. Hello, red light. Hello, pause.
Oh this beautiful heart.
Agent Anna and I have a shared epiphany that took slightly different forms.
Hers occurred when she realized that meditating is not boring at all. That in fact it is exactly like that deliriously sweet moment when your head is resting on your lover’s chest and you are listening to your lover’s heartbeat.
And you have no thoughts in you at all other than: OH THIS BEAUTIFUL HEART. OH THIS BEAUTIFUL MOMENT.
Meditation, she realized, is exactly that, except the heart you are listening to is your own.
For me, the moment came in Tel Aviv, on the wooden floor after yoga. I was trying to remember if I had ever felt this still, this blissfully steady, this at home in my body and the world, this singing of joyful aliveness in my veins.
I realized: oh, this quiet happy stillness is like when you have just had stupid-good sex that was so stupid-good that you couldn’t form a complete sentence to save your life, but it doesn’t matter because guess what, there is nothing on earth that needs to be said.
OH THIS BEAUTIFUL ALIVENESS.
And that, I am now realizing, is what red lights are for. I can’t remember that feeling of OH THIS BEAUTIFUL ALIVENESS if I don’t stop and breathe it in. If I don’t get quiet enough to remember.
This moment: beautiful.
I took it for granted that the green lights are the good ones. Movement over not-movement. Stopping means noticing that everything is changing. Stopping means feeling all the feelings.
“Is there anything that’s not a lesson in impermanence and this-moment-is-beautiful?”
That was my lover’s question as the water from the bath slowly drained around us during a long red light. That moment: beautiful. Painful and beautiful.
This moment: beautiful.
On the radio at the cafe.
Green was go and play and pleasure.
Playing in the background at the cafe as I write these words…
“Do you believe that there are treasures in the oceans /
One kiss from you and I’m drunk up on your potion.”
That’s Angus & Julia Stone…
Yes. That is an accurate description of green.
Except red can be like that too.
That’s kind of what those long slow red-light pauses were like.
Full of treasures and potions.
I didn’t used to like to stop. Because of the NO.
Green was obviously better than red. Walk obviously better than don’t walk. The image of the guy walking: obviously better than the red hand of Don’t Walk.
That red hand of NO and STOP seemed so formal and cold. Like a preachy wagging finger of no-no-no.
It was rules and institutions and restrictions: all the things I rebel against and do not agree to having in my life.
The red hand of no as an amulet of protection.
Green lights are the good ones.
But now that red hand suddenly appears like a hamsa: a blessing of protection.
Here. You are safe. Pause. Breathe. Rest into this moment of safety. You are held in the pause. Nothing to do but breathe. Refuge and reprieve.
The red hand wasn’t saying I have to stop. The red hand says I get to stop.
Not red for danger. Red for grounding and rootedness.
The hand wants to give me the best gift there is, and I extend my hand to receive it: Pleasure. Breath. Center. Refuge.
Speaking of signs.
At Rally (Rally!) last summer, TJ, who, just like me, prefers the green lights, wanted a sign. He found a sign, but it said NO.
Literally. It was an actual sign, and it said NO.
He wasn’t happy about the NO at first, because he was really, really hoping for a clear YES.
It turned out okay, like everything at Rally always does. And he found his yes. It was a pretty great yes.
Actually, it was a yes that lived on the other side of an entirely different no.
This is what I think of when I think of how I have misunderstood red lights.
The red light isn’t giving me a no of “you can’t do this”, it is the no of “take a minute before you do, take a minute to get ready and present for the next yes.”
Pause. Pause. Pause. Yes, now I am ready to go again.
Postscript.
One more piece but I say it in tiny letters because it scares me a little.
What if they’re all good ones? What if red makes green better and green makes red better?
I took it for granted that the green lights are the good ones. As if that’s even a thing. If there are options there are not good.
What if this moment is right? Red. Green. What if the light I get is good? What if the light I have is good?
That’s what I’m thinking about as I rest into each moment of pause, as I stride forward with each moment of go.
How we play here. You are invited.
This is that very rare thing that is safe space on the internet, and for that to work, we lovingly commit to not giving each other advice and not caretaking.
Within that, you can play any way you like. I am receptive to appreciation, wonder and delight, things you noticed or sparks sparked for you about red lights and related themes, ways you are going to play with this.
And I will always always always take flowers, because flowers make everything better.
April naps. May embarks.
Oh, April, you are napping now because today it is May. Naptime for April.
Until next year when we meet again and we are new.
I am laughing to myself a little, because April naps was one of my secret April wishes. To take lots of naps and let the naps take me…
And now “April naps” is not only a noun but a verb. April naps. April is napping.
Sweet dreams, April.
I will whisper my farewells in your ear as I set off on the adventure of May.
Thank you, April. Thank you for….
- Sweetness.
- A mad diamond caper.
- Deeply steady and deeply unnerving feelings. Feeling all the feelings. So much and so many!
- Everything blossoming. Such lushness.
- The discovery that I can be outrageously glamorous — Bond Girl levels of glamorous — in sneakers, ripped jeans and no makeup, just by remembering the secret holiness of glamour and how it lives inside of me.
- Discovering what I wanted (even though it pissed me off for a while).
- Unexpected miracles of spaciousness and breathing room.
- So very many seeds from then are here, now.
- Rally (Rally!) and everything that happened at the 25th Rally.
- Sweetness. Love. Presence. Trust.
- Ten breaths. Also: having people with whom I can take ten breaths with.
And also the things that were hard.
There were hard things in April that turned out to be useful, and are still turning out to be useful, even if I did not enjoy them.
Like being so sick that I had to reconfigure all sorts of things in my life. Saying farewell to people and experiences. Realizing I have to quit grad school. Except I don’t know what “grad school” is, since I’m not in grad school and also I don’t know how to do it, but it needs to be done all the same.
Thank you, April.
Come in, May! What I want from May.
- I take exquisite care of myself within the day to day of life.
- The superpower of Succinctness.
- To learn all about Succinctness and be surprised at its beauty, at the many forms it can take.
- To smile at doorways, flirt with fountains, delight in noticing the aliveness of being alive.
- A reconfiguration of how I work. This needs to happen with a kind of peaceful, mild, gentleness please.
- Practice: Deep blissful steadiness and the seven wells.
- Hey look, safe houses everywhere.
- Empty, replenish, play some more.
- Bath time.
A compass of qualities for May.
Trust. Plenty. Presence. Radiance. Steadiness. Clarity. Glow. Pleasure.
Superpowers for May.
Succinctness.
Letting small things resonate large.
Resting into miracles.
Looking at the Stompopolis calendar now…
This month’s quality: WONDER.
Adore. Adore. Adore.
And the superpower of Uncovering and Revealing.
Perfect. I will take some more of that, please.
And I will play with this at Stompopolis.
Naming the moon.
A tradition I borrowed from Waverly. More about how I do it.
The Moon of The Sword Of Succinctness, baby!
That’s this month’s moon. For me. You can have your own moon, obviously.
What I’m listening to this month.
She wanna do the damn thing and I’m on her side
She opened up the wings and she gonna fly
She got no time for the fuss and fight
She does it right, she loves her life
May it be so.
Hahaha, excellent, we can begin every sentence with “May it be X” this month.
May it be may it be may it be May.
Sleep tight, April. You were mysterious and challenging, and also one of the most beautiful presence-filled months of my life. Goodbye what-is-done. Thank you.
May May May. Let’s sail away together and see what happens.
Want to play?
You can deposit notes, wishes, superpowers or whatever you like for your month here. We are not dogmatic about ritual: play any way you like.
We make this safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.
Wishing you a May that is full of all the good things.