The Fluent Self

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?

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

Friday Chicken #249: the diamond, you say

by Havi Brooks | May 3, 2013 | updates & announcements

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.

by Havi Brooks | May 2, 2013 | working on patterns & habits

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.

by Havi Brooks | May 1, 2013 | my personal practice

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.

Visions #199: well, yeah, all the wells

by Havi Brooks | Apr 29, 2013 | my personal practice

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!

Planting: Overestimating the Underestimating.

The situation. And background.

I overestimate my capacity for [all forms of doing]. This is a known thing.

While I do that — hahaha just to make it more fun and by fun I mean “torture” — I also vastly underestimate how long it takes to actually do [things that I think need doing].

Not just me. Pretty much everyone I know does this to some degree.

The result is not all that surprising. The usual things. Worn out and worn down. Frustrated. Baffled. Overwhelmed.

This year, in my Year of Emptying and Replenishing, I have been allowing twice as long to do things, and doing half as many things. And I’m still underestimating my capacity for overestimation.

Gravestone sentiment, anyone?

She underestimated her capacity for overestimating her capacity.

What I want.

To see what it looks and feels like — as a conscious experiment in playful presence — to do the opposite of that.

To overestimate my tendency to underestimate how much time and energy things take.

Instead of trying to do ten things in a day… maybe one. Or maybe even half of one. Terrifying, yes.

My monsters, specifically the Assembly of Time Gremlins, are not going to like this. But I am convinced it’s going to be a useful experiment.

And I’m going to fractal flower the hell out of my one thing: whatever it is I’m doing is going to stand in for all the things that need doing, and somehow have an impact on them too.

I will try to enter each thing with intention: this is a door. Hello, experience.

I want to find out what it is like to rest into my doing, instead of to force it.

Obviously this is a pretty crazy-advanced practice, so what I’ll start with (see? already starting smaller) is just the part about noticing.

Noticing how much I really want to be able to do All The Thing. Noticing how scary it is to pause. How scary it is say “Wait, hat if we do this one thing, slowly and lovingly, with grace and presence?”

Interacting with that, in whatever playful ways feel right.

The qualities inside of the wants:

Trust. Integration. Presence. Wonder. Blissful Steadiness. Plenty. Sweetness. Intention.

And the superpower of remembering that you can’t run out of prime numbers.

What might help?

Letting the Internal Scientists take notes.
Finding out how all the Doings are connected, so I can really feel
how doing one thing is unraveling stuck and smoothing out pathways for the other ones.
Safety first.
Not My Bus. Those other things that I am not doing in this moment: not my bus. The bus I am taking will also get me to where I need to get to. Experience this.
Reminding myself that when I try to take ALL the buses, not only do I not get to the places I was hoping to visit, I get to the same place: exhaustion and pain.

Anything else?

Ahahahahaaaaaaa.

I’m going to let this be enough. See? CRAZINESS.

I’m playing with…

Like last week: Wearing trust like a costume.

Pretending that this Focusing On One Mission Each Day is new orders given to me from HQ. The Agency has their reasons. My job is to test this new way, and to preserve the integrity of the experiment.

Mmm. Agency. I love having Agency. And an Agency.

What 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.

Loving the red lights. Letting them be the best kind of pause.
Pause. Paws!
Operation Rest Well.
Respecting the Seven Wells, while remembering that the First Well always comes first.
Remember? Remember? Rest is the first duty of the queen.
The labyrinth never lies.
I can tell people about the dream if I want to.
I have a piece of information I wish I didn’t have, and it needs to be shared. And at the same time: This Is Right. How can I do this with love and warmth?
This moment is beautiful. I just noticed something.
NPH. Nap or Nidration as a portalbridge to a healing.
Code.
Pleasure.
Is it time for Plum Duff? Let’s find out!

Repeats from last week.

Either because they’re good ones, or because they need some extra spaciousness.

Perfect simple solutions, suddenly visible!
Operation Why Yes I Am A Princess.
What do I need? What do I want?
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.

The qualities inside of the wants:

The qualities from the last two weeks are still working for me.

Blissful steadiness. Wonder. Quiet. Trust. Radiating. Plenty. Glow. Precision.

And the superpower that I’m calling “If it’s the tool I’m using, then yeah, in this moment let’s let it be the right one for the job, and maybe that will also reveal the next tool…”

Also known as Acceptance and Curiosity.

Again again again. Seeing the secret holiness of everything.

Ways this could work.

Well well well well well well well.

All the wells.

Discuss the Seven Wells with Agent Pontini, who introduced the First Four. Is there a compass of well? Well? Well. Well well. Yes. Quite.

And same as last week: Plant more seeds. Seed more silence. Trust more. Nope, more than that. Recognize that the trusting itself requires trust. Be okay with not trusting, which is itself a form of trusting more! Like that.

I’m playing with…

Stop and breathe. Pause interactions, of all kinds, and say: Hey, I need to stop and breathe. And then doing it.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted a salve for things that are raw, and I got it.

It took a while, and the answer was: PLAY. Play was the salve. Not silence and not words, because both of those are only forms of play. The answer isn’t the form, the answer is in the playing.

What else? The Bolt Bus. Of course. Perfect. The reconfigurings and endings happened with ease, as requested.

Prom was both easy and not easy, but the not-easy was useful, and the getting out of it when I needed to get out of it was very easy.

Miracles and sweet, blissful steadiness were a lot more present than I expected them to be when I asked. I mean, wow. Lots of wow about both of those. I am feeling good, and taking things slowly.

Some of the scary things are still REALLY scary, but my reaction and responses to them are entirely different now, thanks in large part to the miraculous things that happened during Rally (Rally!) and to the new Buttmonster Coloring Book that we played with at Rally.

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 #248: trusting the yes

by Havi Brooks | Apr 26, 2013 | updates & announcements

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.

What worked?

Proxies.

I had a wonderful dream. And then I woke up from the dream and felt very sad that the thing that happened in the dream could not actually happen in real life.

So I used it as my proxy, and pretended that I was doing it.

Very many interesting things transpired as a result, including what might be the best superpower of all time: finding shortcuts wherever I look!

Ten breaths.

Stop and breathe. Stop and breathe.

Wait, pause, stop and breathe. Paws!

Play. Of course.

Play is always the answer. Play always has the answer.

Next time I might…

Get back to play sooner. Catch myself when I’m being dogmatic about tools, and remember that the point of the tool is the playing, not the tool itself.

The mysteries. Things I found challenging (and mysterious!).

The mystery of Sometimes Depletion is Part of Reality.
The mystery of Sometimes People Want To Hold On Really Tightly.
Saying a farewell that I didn’t want to say.
The mystery of expectations.
We had five people at Rally — a third of Rally — from Boston. They brought oceans of pain with them, including lots of other people’s pain. This was both useful and good, because we got a chance to test everything we play with at Rally in real time. The Playground is the ultimate experience in Shelter and Refuge, and it worked. But yeah, oceans of pain.
I can’t [verb the verbs that need to be verbed] when I am sick.
I hadn’t realized how much energy goes into doing [X] until I did it while not at capacity.
Oh, hello Day 2. You showed up on Day 3!
The mystery of The Pipedream Monsters. Aka the mobsters. Oh, they are the hardest..
That thing I used to love so much that I still love so much still desperately needs to be renamed.
Arguing with Incoming Me.
The quieter I get, the stronger my sensitivity to anything that is not resonant with my internal hum. I warned everyone at Rally as usual about strong force fields going out into the world. After Rally ended, I stayed in the Playground for several hours: cleaning up and having a long sweet yoga. When I went downstairs, I opened the door TWO INCHES, and the world outside was too much. Retreat-retreat.
How can I quit grad school if I don’t know what it is and I’m not actually in it? You see. This is a problem.
All I want right now is to be outside in the sun, but all the things I need to do involve being near outlets.
A shortcut is eluding me!
I am ten different kind of toast.

Things I found delightful.

Realization about why I am avoiding [all the things I’m avoiding]. It’s the Pipe Dream Mobsters. Monsters!
The dream told me what I wanted. Now I know what I want!
Planning the Ten Days Of Baths And Marveling.
Miracles.
Lady Bond is even more fun than Bond Girl. We wore all the best costumes too.
Shortcuts. Now known as portalbridges.
Ohmygod so many epiphanies from the things we did at Rally.
Rally! (Rally!)
Rally was amazing. So much appreciation, wonder and delight for the indescribable things that happen at Rally. I can talk about fun, the laughter, the sharing, the trust, the permission, the sweet companionship, the holiness of true play. But words don’t do it. Rally is magic. Lately I have been doubting so many things, and this was a strong clear YES THIS IS RIGHT to one thing that I do. Rally. My god. Thank you, past me for allowing Rally to come into the world.
I have a co-conspirator and this is wonderful.
On Wednesday I woke up healed: feeling like me again. Trusting. Steady. Grateful. Soaring heart.
Picnics in the park with Marisa. Flowers, sunshine, smiles, comfort.
Love. A heart full of love. Many different shades of love.
The Rally compass was exactly the right compass. It had everything I needed. Adventures of appreciation! Trust the yes!
I got to see Juno! And even though we didn’t really get to hang out, I got to hug her many, many times and glow at her from across the room.
Labyrinth knows.
Wisdom from playmate by way of an old video game: “Think of a locked door or a ferocious east not as a permanent obstacle, but merely a puzzle to be tackled.” Yes. I don’t tackle puzzles so much as flirt with them, but this was the right reminder at the right time.
[…]
Much sparkling, glowing and wow.
My pirate queen quarters are becoming a giant blanket fort.

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.

~~Operation Diamond Replica.~~
~~Deleting one thousand words!~~
~~Operation G.O.P.I.C.N.I.C.~~
~~Operation S.H.O.R.T.C.U.T.~~
Wham boom! Wham boom!

Miracles.

Milagrotag. April 22nd was a day of miracles, including one so astonishing and not-in-accordance-with-the-matrix that I don’t even know how to think about it.

A reprieve that I never would have expected or even asked for: a whole extra month to take care of something that I wasn’t ready for. Wow.

Also Lira gave me stripper dust, and this is going to come in handy for a future mission.

Superpowers.

Superpowers I had this week…

The superpower of shortcuts everywhere.

And for next week…

The shortcuts (portalbridges) glow so that I see them before they show up.

The Freudian Typo (or autocorrect) Award.

Monsters became mobsters! And Monday became Mobday!

This was the best.

Also I said “I comeback” instead of I come back. This was true. I comeback!

Salve. Yours if you want it.

This week’s salve is the salve of I Never Wait In Line For My Own Swing.

It contains beads of certainty, trust, truth and sovereignty. Knowing that everyone else has their own playground. Lovingly insisting that everything that doesn’t need to be in your space leave quickly and peacefully. Reclaiming your swing.

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 recently played a duet with Garrison Keillor.

They’re called…

The Cheese Side Downs.

Their first album was Better Cream Cheese Than Blood, and they sing sweet ballads with many, many verses.

I was astonished to find out that it’s actually just one guy. Thank you, Richard.