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 #174: All the peacefulness.
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!
Much like last week, I only really want one thing this week.
But I want it in a lot of different forms and aspects.
Wish: Peacefulness.
Here’s what I want:
Peacefulness.
It’s an odd little word.
And I want it in a variety of different ways. I want to become better friends with it, to have a better sense of how it can live inside of my body.
So. Here’s to peacefulness.
Peacefulness even while the entire country that I currently live in is caught up in election anxiety.
Peacefulness when I wake up in the morning. Even if the news is not the news that I want.
Peaceful resolution for the two painful situations I am currently in.
A peaceful way to write four peaceful letters that need to be written.
Peaceful places for a highly sensitive person like me to hide. Giant blanket fort!
Peaceful reintegration.
Peaceful ways to be a mermaid dragon.
The ability to say hard things in a peaceful way.
Ways this might work:
I don’t know.
Ten breaths. And ten more breaths.
Playing the game of “what’s true and what’s also true?“.
Doing the Conducting and Compassing capers that I taught at Crossing the Line.
Writing a love letter to the version of me who knows all about peacefulness.
Being conscious about my space. (Adding flowers. Again.)
I’m playing with…
Using the Great Ducking Out (announcement soon!) as a place to practice this.
Dissolving into peacefulness. Radiating peacefulness.
Asking smart, loving, curious questions.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted flowers.
This may actually be the most fascinating experiment that I’ve run in the Very Personal Ads.
I learned more about flowers this week than I ever thought possible, and it was cool and weird.
What I will say for now is that this wish helped me notice just how many flowers are already around me all the time. Flowers at Rebecca’s. Flowers on signs. Flowers in names of things.
Also it was much easier than anticipated to have flowers. I bought a bunch of tulips and then put one in each room. Everything was cheery.
Also it turns out that I do not leave clothes all over the top of my dresser when there is a vase with flowers on it.
Because everything looks festive and special, and I don’t want to mess it up. And since the ask about flowers was secretly about how I interact with my space, this was a perfect thing to experience.
There’s more stuff I want to say about flowers and things I learned about how great they are, but I will save it for some other time. In the meantime, appreciation to last-week-me for having asked. And for planting (ha) sweet surprises.
Playful 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.
Here or on your own or in your head. It’s all fine. Or call silent retreat!
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
If you’re looking for suggestions or heart-sighs or anything else related to your wish, you will need to ask for that because our default mode is giving 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 make space for people’s wishes.
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 #223: past-me saves the day.
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
The hard stuff
Re-entry. Always the hardest.
Coming back from a Rally or retreat is often difficult.
All of a sudden the old things don’t work. You’re hyper-aware of everything that is disharmonious or incongruent. You miss being around people who get it. You miss being in an environment with space and autonomy and breathing room.
I’ve done this so many times. I was ready for this. And being ready helps a little, but not as much as you’d think.
I had clear and loving notes from past-me about how I will probably need to spend at least three days in bed staring at the wall blankly.
And also about how I will suddenly dislike everything and want it to be different. How all this is normal and okay, and when I eventually stop fighting it, then it will suddenly and magically pass.
So yeah. It gets easier but you know what? It’s still unbelievably intense. I am re-entering and everything is different, and it is raw and new and I want to hide away in a cocoon please.
Watching people you care about put themselves in painful situations.
You sit there with your heart full of love and appreciation, and you watch people just tangle themselves up in their stuff.
You watch them place unnecessary restrictions on the very thing that would bring them peacefulness and delight.
You watch them reinforce narratives that have nothing to do with reality.
You watch them construct rules about how they are willing to receive, to the point that they actually limit what you would otherwise happily give freely.
You watch them imposing external forms on a situation instead of allowing structures and containers to emerge organically.
And there is nothing you can do in this situation except continue to love quietly. And hope that they will come back to what is true.
This happened a few different times this week, and it is an awful feeling.
Discomfort.
I will silent retreat on this.
Needing to reconsecrate space.
Ditto.
Getting triggered.
And not able to explain what is happening in the moment. Being with someone who can’t understand.
Oh dear god, the misunderstandings. When will they end.
So many misunderstandings.
May everything resolve itself.
Pretty much any time I went online.
Between the elections and the world series and the hurricane and everything horrible, everything is horrible.
When I remembered to do sweet, loving things for myself that have to do with being here and now, with stillness and breathing, all was good.
When I went looking online to connect with something else, nothing was good.
Recovery.
It takes time.
The good stuff
Remembering.
Remembering the truth about how Now Is Not Then.
Remembering the superpower of Actually, Nothing Is Wrong.
Look at this.
Last year at the end of Crossing the Line, I spent three hours with my partner in crime cleaning up the Playground, because it was a fabulous disaster. Costumes everywhere, feathers from boas all over the place, blankets that needed folding, cushions strewn across the floor. It was fun, and it was also a lot of work.
This year’s group just kind of quietly put everything back on their own all the time, and by the time they left, there was hardly anything to do to clean up.
Things and situations can get even better than they already are. Even when I don’t do anything to change them. This is a useful thing to remember!
Replenishing. Also the Playground calendar was made by a twisted genius.
Seriously, me from a year ago is hilarious. 
I turned the Playground calendar to November. And it’s the month of REPLENISHING.
Replenishing!
Are you kidding me? Could anything be more perfect? Because that happens to be exactly what I need right now.
And then, get this, at the bottom of the month, it says THIS:
Hiding is always okay and often useful. Safety first!
This was so completely what I needed to hear in that moment. Wise, loving and true. Also: relevant to my interests, as they say.
Thank you, calendar. Thank you, past-me. Thank you, seeing the reminder without needing to trip over it.
p.s. If you’re looking forward to a 2013 calendar, they exist! And they are even more beautiful and amazing than last year, if that’s possible. I’ll post pre-order information soon!
Things change.
Saturday was a not-fun day for me, and my playmate was also having a not-fun day, and so we decided to be irritable and grumbly together.
This cheered me up immensely, and then Sunday was beautiful.
Things are weirdly better than I think they are.
I made a list of everything that is better right now than it was a year ago, not expecting to find very much.
But actually, SO MANY THINGS. This was surprising, and also useful for negotiating with the monsters.
The Crossing.
We crossed.
It was a big passage. And extraordinary things happened.
It was so big that I can’t even talk about it. But everything is different now.
Conducting.
I was able to do the thing that helps. And I was able to do it consistently, every day, all the time, more often than I thought I needed it.
Avoiding Halloween.
Marisa came and we ate dinner in the dark and hid.
I was remarkably functional on the first day of recovery.
I was able to have a Puttering Day! Yay, puttering day.
I was vertical. Up and about. This never happens. It was great.
Flowers.
Flowers help.
I am taking really good care of myself.
This is still relatively new. I like it.
Walking.
Walking is the best. Triple especially if it takes place in crisp air and the sun is out and there are beautiful colorful leaves everywhere.
Noticing!
I am noticing all the useful things. This is exciting.
Morning in a turquoise towel.
This was beautiful.
Hello, November.
I had things to say for November, and I was ready to say them without needing a lot of time to agonize over transitions, and this felt sweet.
Found a new cafe.
It is delightfully quiet and subdued. There is a lot of wood.
And again, Nothing Is Wrong. The old cafe stopped being the right place and then the new place was there when I needed it, and the new thing is better.
Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.
Comfort and reassurance.
Thank you, Maryann and Robyn.
Thank you, everyone who has been sending sweetness in the mail. Cards and reminders of love. Hugely appreciated.
Hope.
Everything is very quiet now from inside my recovery cocoon, but I can see glimpses and glimmers of radiance.
The things that are coming are so beautiful. And letting them take their time is important. Letting me take my time is important.
I am remembering this and trusting it. For entire moments. For a breath and then another breath. And then for ten whole astounding minutes inside of a compass made of points of light.
Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band is also the name of a flavor of tea that I would like to exist:
Sudden Unexpected Jolt Of Peacefulness.
They harmonize. With everything.
Though, of course, yes, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
There are a few shiva nata starter kits left but they are going pretty quickly.
We are close to rearranging everything in the shop. I am going to repeat my recommendation for emergency calming the hell down, before changes get made. Also, this was how I got to peacefulness this week, and I needed a lot of calm this week.
And, if you’re in Portland or the general area and you want to Duck Out of Thanksgiving again this year, information coming soon. We will have a Great Ducking Out day of fun, play and running away at the Playground. 🙂
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.
And extra wishes of safety and support to everyone dealing with Hurricane Sandy right now.
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.
Hi there, November.
Somehow, astonishingly, it is the time to passage between months again. I’m not sure how that happened.
I am taking a deep breath and invoking all the superpowers of easy transitions.
Okay! Exit and entry. Passaging out and passaging in.
Let’s see where we’re at.
Worst case scenario? I’ll have more information about what I don’t want.
Passaging out of October. What worked?
Oh wow.
I took care of myself. I mean, I really truly deeply took care of myself.
This kind of came as a surprise. But it was great.
It meant that I didn’t do most of the things I’d been looking forward to in October. I didn’t do the Portland Zombie walk and I didn’t dance Zombie Thriller (though we totally practiced it at the Crossing).
I didn’t do anything related to Halloween. Except hide in the dark!
And I didn’t even go to any of the pre-season exhibition roller derby bouts, even though I normally live and breathe derby like oxygen. Didn’t watch the World Series. Didn’t go out. Didn’t do much of anything, really.
All I did was take care of myself. Yoga. Sleep. Massage. Resting in various not-sleep ways that involved reclining. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
It was exactly what was needed.
So long, October. Things I might try differently next time?
Even MORE taking care of myself.
Especially after the rollercoaster of a traumatic summer, and knowing I was going to run an unbelievably intense eight day retreat.
Or really, I don’t know if that is true. I think I did an outrageously great job of taking care of myself.
What I would want if I got a do-over is to not second-guess these choices as much. To recognize that this is needed and vital, and not fight it or question it.
Anything else?
More walking outdoors and watching the colors change. Yes.
Passaging into November. Hello, November!
Hi. Hi.
You feel new and exciting. I feel a thrill of anticipation, and just the teeniest bit apprehensive. But mostly intrigued. What do you know? What are we going to do together?
Like that.
What qualities do I want from the experience of November-ing?
Quiet. Simplicity. Presence.
Calm. Steadiness. Sweetness.
Delight. Pleasure. Lightness and Luminosity. Excitement. Spaciousness.
November superpowers?
Focused puttering.
The current knows what to do. Use the trade winds!
Just look up. No, really. Look up.
Remembering what is true. And what is also true.
The superpower of Nothing Is Wrong.
Things I’m working on and playing with in November.
The new calendar we’re producing.
Marvelous changes at Stompopolis.
Conducting and being a conductor.
Playing with Marisa.
Mapping out the upcoming year.
Beach days that happen indoors.
Many wonderful naps please.
Things I’m looking forward to in November.
Crunching leaves.
Walking in the rain.
Watching roller derby championships quietly from far away instead of being there this year. I’ll be rooting — and yes, this feels weird, for team sparkle-butt (come on, Denver Roller Dolls! Take second place!).
Rethinking things. Reconfiguring.
All the secret flowers.
Not doing Thanksgiving. And instead of the Great Ducking Out, doing a small, quiet, personal ducking out.
I’m asking for and wishing for….
Perfect simple solutions. And not just that these exist but that they emerge and make themselves known please.
Warmth and coziness.
Time to reflect.
When it is time to do a thing, doing the thing. Without drama. With loving attentive focus. Swift and clear action that is also gentle.
Right timing. Miraculous little things that help with this.
I’m ready for…
The compass. The bell.
Being filled with appreciation. Experiencing appreciation in many different forms.
Extra. Overflow.
Going to the Department of Marvelous Voyages (shhhh it’s the DMV) and having that be okay.
More playtime.
Flowers everywhere. This is important.
And?
I want to be here now.
Goodbye, October. Thank you for everything. Goodbye everything that is done. Thank you for being done. Mmhmm.
Hello, November. I am touching you on the cheek.
Come in, come in. Let’s cross. Over and through.
Play with me…
I mess around with entry and exit each month, going with whatever shows up.
For other versions, peek at: last July / August / September / October / November / December / January / February / March / April / May. A love letter to June. This year’s July and August and September and last month too..
Feel welcome to deposit notes for your entry into November here, if you like. Or drop off some wishes. Or leave flowers.
As always, we make this a 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 November that is pleasurable, supportive, and full of unexpectedly good things. And love. All the love.
Visions #172: Oh! I want flowers.
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!
This week’s Visions are showing up later than usual because I have been deep-deep-deep inside of Crossing the Line: the Eight Day Voyage, which is this incredibly intense and wonderful retreat that I run.
We ended this afternoon, and I realized that I only want one thing this week, but it’s a big one.
Not physically big. Big as in: all-encompassing.
Thing 1: I want flowers.
Here’s what I want:
At the Crossing, each of has a mission!
But it’s a proxy-mission. Something that sounds unimportant and silly and maybe even kind of meaningless but then it ends up secretly standing in for the things you really want. It is both fun and sneaky!
My mission was Passionately Investigating Why It Is That Flowers Make Things Better.
I learned a lot about flowers. And even more about passion.
Also about space and presence, and transformation. Specifically the kind of transformation that happens without knocking down any walls: steady, gentle, grounded and sweet.
And I want to remember this. And so I want flowers. I want lots and lots and lots of flowers.
Ways this might work:
Actual flowers.
Representations of flowers.
Things that remind me of flowers or are symbolically flowers.
Things that are like flowers but not flowers.
For example, a beeswax candle also has beauty and scent. Like a flower, it radiates quietly but lovingly and with a certain quality of being.
I could walk in the rose garden even though the roses are gone.
I could go to the nursery and look at all the flowering winter plants.
People could send me flowers or drawings of flowers or pictures of flowers. Please do if you like!
There could just be lots of flowers.
I’m playing with…
Remembering that flowers are important. The most important.
Trusting my intuition. Trusting the mission.
Remembering that I live in the Rose City, baby. I am the Rose City. “We are the Roooooooooose City! You can’t stop us!”
Especially!
Letting lots of other things stand in for flowers while still remembering that ACTUAL flowers are important.
And!
Letting flowers stand in for lots of other things while still remembering that I can let the flowers do the work for me.
Also: fractal flowers. Ha. Yes.
Watering flowers. Watering me. With water, obviously. But also with flower essences. And with time and naps and softly glowing appreciation in my tingle-joy heart.
Internally blossoming. When it feels like it’s time.
And this is all I am wishing for this week because it is everything. Maybe this can also contain all the other wishes that need to be wished. Mmmm.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I announced the end of an era, and that we are discontinuing the shiva nata starter kit and the non-sucky yoga kits (which had already sold out so I’m not linking). And apparently a big chunk of the remaining inventory sold. There are a few left!
I wanted to think differently about time, and ahahahahaaaa I did lots of that. But not even slightly in the way that I expected. Now that I have crossed the Crossing, I think differently about all sorts of things. But especially about time.
Then I wanted perfect simple solutions to two stuck interpersonal situations, and I have been letting these situations sit in a room full of harmonious resolution while at the Crossing. So I don’t know if they have changed at all, but I certainly feel calmer about them, which is a win.
And I wanted wonderful things from Crossing the Line, including the superpower of “painless wish-fulfillment”. And I am feeling good about this. Everything that I planted in the Crossing felt really steady and simple. Essence. I am liking this.
Playful 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.
Here or on your own or in your head. It’s all fine. Or call silent retreat!
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
If you’re looking for suggestions or heart-sighs or anything else related to your wish, you will need to ask for that because our default mode is giving 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 make space for people’s wishes.
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 #222: to the power of two!
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
You guys! It’s chicken number two-two-two. Tutus for everyone! Three twos for everyone!
ALL THE TWOS.
For everyone.
The hard stuff
Man, I am wiped out.
This is the fourth year in a row I’ve run a weeklong retreat, and each time I get better at resting beforehand and setting things up for slightly-future me so that it doesn’t destroy me.
Well done, past-me.
And.
Teaching and facilitating is so much work, and I am tired. Happy-tired, for sure. And also: oh right, so tired!
Saturday.
I had a day of Doing A Million Things, none of which I wanted to do but all of which were necessary and vital.
And then I was in a mood, because doing a million things is not conducive to happy restful Havi.
Too many things.
There are too many things.
Rethinking plans.
Encountering old desires that are no longer relevant, old voyages planned that go in directions which don’t pull me.
Unresolved situation is still unresolved.
I haven’t been thinking about it because of the Crossing taking over my life.
And I am hoping that letting it sit while I [am going through the important things that I am going through] is going to somehow be good for it. That somehow one transformation will cause another one.
But also I would like this situation to just be resolved already.
My two favorite teams are in the world series and my heart is torn.
Usually it’s not even slightly a problem having two favorite baseball teams.
They play in different leagues and, let’s be honest, pretty much most of the time they’re both kind of terrible.
I honestly never imagined there would be a Tigers-Giants world series, and I feel ALL THE FEELINGS and I do not like it.
So it’s kind of nice to be really, really, really busy and not able to watch too closely. Because I can’t bear it.
The good stuff
The Crossing!
Crossing the Line is the most intense thing I teach. By a lot.
And I’m not doing it again for three more years, so this one is extra-intense.
It is AMAZING.
The people, the experience, the stuff we’re doing together. All of it. Big crazy transformation in the sneakiest ways possible.
I am thrilled about this group. I am delighted about what I’ve been discovering. I like everything about this astonishing thing that we are going through together.
Even better: we’re not done. We have until Tuesday to keep magic-ing!
I have more things to say about how great the Crossing is.
Actually, I could write volumes about the Crossing.
But right now I just want to say how wonderful it is to be in this space with these people. To hear the things people say to each other. Like this:
“Okay, so you want to cross from the courage side of the street to the permission side, and head three blocks in the direction of ease…”
Or this:
“I just discovered that I can’t simultaneously hula hoop and jump on a trampoline, or at least not if I’m also trying to take care of what I think other people need.”
Or this:
“Huh. I had absolutely no idea I knew so much about polynesian seafaring!”
And also these sentences make total sense. This world, you guys. It is fun and nutty and surprising and beautiful. And I am in it. In fact, it exists because of me. That is the most marvelous thing that I can think of.
Massive epiphanies. Extraordinary, indescribable epiphanies.
Realizations like mad.
Everything makes sense!
I forgot that last year’s Crossing was like this too. The things that I know right now! They are big.
Sweetness. So much sweetness. So very much.
That is all I have to say about that.
Preparation.
I took care of myself so well before the Crossing. I want all the sparklepoints!
The madness of Saturday aside, I spent so much time just caring for myself.
Baths. Napping. Writing. Quiet. Avoiding the world. Readying myself. Ritual. Space. It was fantastic.
And it changed everything.
Support.
The First Mate has been doing a thousand tiny things to make my life comfortable while I’m teaching, and I appreciate every single one of them.
Everything is different now.
I could not be in a more different place than I was before last year’s Crossing.
Everything I planted this week last year came true. In weird and unlikely ways.
And now this is an entirely new everything. And realizing that was really neat.
The return of the neverending playdate.
Playtime with my playmate made everything better this week.
It was everything I wanted and everything I needed. So much delight, so much discovery, so much play.
Heart-healing.
A truly astounding thing.
Marisa is here.
I could not be happier about this.
Also we jumped to the power of two, and this is good.
The things I didn’t know I wanted that showed up anyway.
Flamboyance. Frivolity. Frolicking.
Among other things.
Giants are killing it.
Even though it is breaking my heart because I love the Tigers so much, and it’s been almost thirty years, and oh I feel sad and conflicted!
Still. I admit. My heart is also soaring for the Giants.
I mean, come on. The pandas’s three home runs. Zito’s RBI. Lincecum coming in to close. Madbum being great. Pence’s crazy face. Pagan stealing second. Romo Romo Romo. Come on.
Yeah, fine. I’m really excited! Also really sad. But really excited!
Teaching without teaching.
We have been conducting and playing and experimenting and humming.
We are doing capers instead of exercises, configurations instead of groups, and somehow the less I teach the more I teach. Which is exactly how I wanted it to happen.
Clarity.
Yes.
Hilarity.
Laughing until tears.
Appreciation.
I have a heart full of tingle-joy appreciation. Not that the hard isn’t hard, because it is. But there is peacefulness too. And dozens and dozens of tiny deeply-felt thank-yous making themselves heard.
Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band is from my playmate. They’re loud. But not as loud as you’d think.
MENTAL FRANKENSTEIN HOUSES.
Though, of course, as you’ve probably already guessed, it turns out that it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
We’re out of the non-sucky yoga dvd packages, and getting closer to being done with the shiva nata starter kits.
This will be the last of them.
The page says there are 50 but that’s because I haven’t had time to update. It’s more like twenty, I think.
Also, all the outrageous epiphanies I have been having this week are because of the shiva nata we’ve been doing at the Crossing. I love this practice.
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.