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 good obsession
Happy Wednesday!
Last Wednesday we talked about Screening My Wishes, before that we covered Solstice Wishes. Today is also about wishes, but mainly about a good obsession.
A good obsession
Just start.
Pacing
I can’t stop pacing. Sometimes I pace as a form of thinking something through, and sometimes I pace as a form of avoidance, and sometimes it’s just a matter of any stim in a storm.
A relatively socially acceptable stim. People don’t like it when you have to get on the floor. People don’t like it when you get on the floor to calm yourself. Not if you remain still and especially not if you roll back and forth.
Unless you’re in a yoga class and then it’s fine. Even better if you’re teaching the class.
Not that there are people around anymore to be upset about things, and not that yoga classes exist alongside me in the same universe anymore. But still, I remember.
These are the things I think about
These are the things I think about while pacing in tight circles, or figure eights.
The people that aren’t around anymore, the things that used to exist for me and now do not, and cannot, and probably never will again, and how there isn’t anyone I can talk to about missing them, except Meirav.
Before I lived in a tiny house, I thought perhaps downsizing to somewhere very small would help me pace less, but if anything I pace more.
Except Meirav
Meirav and I were talking while I was pacing, Meirav is my therapist from the mid-90s, which is somehow nearly thirty years ago, Meirav and I talk in my head.
I was upset about perceiving myself to be deeply misunderstood, which is an ongoing situation for me, the thing I am most often upset about, and maybe a neurodivergent thing to be upset about, because being misunderstood is kind of our whole deal.
Give me something better please
It was around New Years (the one on January 1st, not the one I celebrate on February 2nd), and everyone was sending New Year wishes, as they do, which is sweet. Adore new year wishes, will take them all year round.
And for some reason, nearly everyone in my life seemed to want to specifically wish me GENTLENESS, as in: a gentle new year, a year of soft gentle things, sending you gentleness, hope this year treats you gently, etc.
And I get it, in a way. I’ve been through a lot in the last few years, and the people who know me know this.
Opposites
I’m sure they want less terrifying, tumultuous experiences for me, they want me to experience the opposite of everything going wrong. Which is a beautiful wish, it’s loving and kind.
And for them, the opposite of everything going wrong is apparently gentleness, so that’s what they wish for me, and I appreciate the warmth and love behind their wishes, and also I don’t want it.
A gentle year can fuck all the way off. Give me something better.
Fuck a gentle new year, where is some good, fun, non-gentleness
“You have clarity,” said Meirav, who is primed to see the positive, though fortunately not in an annoying way.
“You can see the loving intention behind the wish of gentleness, and at the same time you reject the framing of this wish, because it isn’t relevant to what you need right now, it is not, as you’d say, your yes.”
That is correct. I categorically reject gentleness. I want whatever the fuck is good-but-not-gentle. I want sensory intensity, of the kind that is pleasurable.
Give me wildness, aliveness, gasp-worthy delights.
Turn up the sensory experience
The past few years have brought so many forms of dulled senses.
When the agonizing loneliness of isolation made it impossible to feel anything other than numb. Then my concussion erased basic information like where the grocery store might be (anywhere? can’t remember!), or what did I used to be like and care about…?
Then when Covid erased taste and smell, and took away my ability to move like a bobcat. Or when sudden unexpected heartbreak sent me into grief-shock, and I found myself unable to sleep, spending my nights repeating to myself but I don’t understand, make it make sense.
But I don’t understand, make it make sense.
And it never once made sense.
The opposite
Covid-life and concussion-life have been so spacey and bewildering. I can see how everyone would want life to go gentle on me for a change, but for me the opposite of blurry and blurred is sharp and defined.
The opposite of numb is tantalizing.
I want tantalizing.
No gentleness here
Fuck gentleness. I want excitement, passion, intense deliciousness, obscene amounts of pleasure.
In the morning I crush chiltepin peppers, sometimes with the flat part of my knife, sometimes with my fist, and slice ginger to add to my morning potion, to add a slow burn of desert heat.
Yes please to too much, and then more of that. Turn it up.
Don’t be gentle, be fully alive with me. Be real with me. Thrill me. Surprise me. Adore me.
Who and what am I wishing towards?
Okay, I am talking to 2023, and also to myself, and also to someone wholly imagined, who may or may not exist, an incoming self or a version of myself I haven’t met yet, and also to the next special interest which is still a mystery.
I want passion and intense deliciousness that both engages and enrages.
And I want to obsess over something entirely and deliciously frivolous, devote myself to it, hurl myself into obsession, deep-dive all the way into the most specific special interest and devour it, let it devour me.
So okay, we’ve clarified something. Not gentle. But sweet. I want an obnoxiously hot affair and a really good hobby or three, in that order or not. 2023, are you listening?
Heightened (senses)
I wrote the above thoughts on not-gentleness in February, when I was finding my way into my own new-new year, and six months have passed, somehow, and I am considerably less blurry and foggy now.
Still not all the way to clear, just: significantly less fog.
From deep within the cabin fever, the heat waves of summer here in southwestern New Mexico, I am craving sensation, but maybe also somewhat less opposed to gentleness than I was in January.
My senses are heightened. I open the doors for a deep breath of air. I love the scent of the fields after the rains.
Sensation sensation sensation
I made chile crisp this weekend, and a coffee cardamom syrup. Envelop me, sensation.
And maybe I feel differently about gentleness now, more willing to welcome it, certainly I won’t fight its gifts.
As long as it comes with enticement and…hmmm, something about appreciation. I want to be appreciated and to appreciate, I want these sparks of aliveness.
Maybe the gentleness is about sanctuary. Maybe sanctuary is the place I go within myself to come alive again.
A pilgrimage to nowhere, or possibly to the center
The thing that helps most when I can’t stop pacing is applauding myself for pacing.
Imagining how many miles I’ve walked, like medieval nuns who walked circles in their cells imagining they were on a holy pilgrimage? That’s a thing, right? Good job, you’re more than halfway to the wished-for place, good job, good job.
Good job, getting that out of your system, I tell myself. Good job, keeping it moving.
Once I have stopped trying to get myself to stop, I am able to settle, alight somewhere.
Applause for pacing! And then I can land.
Something about rebelliousness, something about legitimacy
I won’t stop when told to or coaxed.
However, I will stop when praised for not stopping. Praise my resilience, my determination, my foolhardy commitment, my furiously rebellious walking fuck-you nature, and I calm right down.
Obviously, no one else is ever around, so I am the one telling myself to stop, finding out it doesn’t work, eventually resorting to praise.
You’re doing so great, I’m proud of you. Pace as long as you need to.
Appreciate my longing for enhanced sensation, and I will eventually come around to gentleness too.
A good obsession
A question I ask more often than you’d think is WWNCD (What Would Neal Caffrey Do), and the answer nearly always makes me feel better.
Neal Caffrey is a con artist, a character on the show White Collar, who remains, despite always conning someone, extremely genuine in his passion for whatever he is currently passionate about.
“I respect a good obsession” is one of my all-time favorite Neal Caffrey quotes, and there are many.
Also worthy of appreciating: the response, from his bff: “And I get to cross a name off my enemies list!”
Obsession, a good one
Obsession (a good obsession), and casual revenge, which is another form of obsessing.
Neal obsesses over good wine, art, suits, how people learn to sort male and female chickens, whatever is in front of him, or whatever is out of sight.
He is agile, fast, smiles easily, passionate about being passionate, and trusts his intuition.
We were both born in March of 1977, the same month that the Fleetwood Mac album Dreams came out, and I once compiled a long list of other things we have in common, but all I remember is Dreams…
WWNCD. Probably what I would do too if I remembered to slow down and ascertain what I want.
Neal understands
I talk to Neal in the same way that I talk to Meirav, although Meirav and I speak Hebrew and she is more grounded and more attuned to how I do things. Sometimes Neal’s advice requires some shimmying around until I can make it work with my own moral or existential compass.
Neal immediately understands why I am allergic to having unsolicited gentleness thrust upon me in wish form.
“Well-wishing is mostly useless,” he says firmly. “People are good at the intention part of it and bad at the content part of it.”
Ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife (a spoon is a weapon too!)
I wait for him to finish his thought.
“They don’t always know what to wish for you, they aren’t always going to make the right guess, but you can wish your own wishes for yourself. You can also take what they give you and transform it into what you need. Think of it as a MacGuyver situation; you need a weapon but someone hands you a stapler instead. You’re creative, you’ll make it work. React in the moment. Get creative with gentleness.”
Get creative with gentleness.
Meirav again
“When is gentle good?”, she asks. “When is it the thing you love and crave?”
I think about Bryan, my chiropractor who can gently bear-hug me back into alignment, who has never once caused me the tiniest amount of pain, but has hauled me back out from pain, he has retrieved me from the pain, with warm touch, patience, and uproarious laughter.
I think about proxies, and how they are the opposite of tough love, the opposite of problem-solving and strategizing, so sneaky, so fun.
No need to exit the comfort zone when you can expand the comfort zone
This makes me think about my deeply held belief that we do not have to dive into our pain to heal, we can play at the edges, that we do not have to force ourselves out of comfort zones, we can gradually expand what feels comfortable.
So I do like gentle, as it turns out, I like it as an approach. Maybe not as a theme for my year, but maybe like how I had to turn Clarity into Loving-Clarity, maybe Gentleness needs to be tempered with something less gentle and more exciting. Like a good obsession…
Zeroing in
My friends want me to be cradled in clouds, and I want to fight my way out of the clouds. They mean well.
Gentle isn’t the same as bland, Meirav points out. You’re reacting to it like it’s unseasoned.
No, of course not, I say. That’s not the point. The point is that gentleness can come after the pleasure. But first I need some joy.
(And obviously sometimes gentle & pleasure & joy can co-exist, we know this too.)
A crash pad but not that
Of course the people who love me and care about me are wishing for me to have a crash pad, they’ve watched me tumble through the last couple years, hurtling down the stairs of circumstances.
It is completely reasonable and understandable that they’re like, dear god, that poor sweet baby needs to be swaddled in soft blankets. I get it.
And it’s not that I don’t want softness.
It’s that I want LUSH, PLUSH & SLUTTY, to use the phrase I borrowed from Jade and refuse to let go of, my north star!
I want sensory comfort of a different kind, and I want to choose it, I don’t want it bestowed on me.
Joyfully alive
It’s as if everyone decided that the best cure for what ails me is a nice nap and a cup of tea when I ALREADY KNOW THE CURE I NEED which is to finally get have some fun.
Fun! I want a good obsession!
I want to have the silliest crush, to feel lighthearted and fizzy, to luxuriate in contemplating various playful creative pursuits, things other than staying alive (aka, am I going to, and if so, how), and the other boring questions that make everyone want gentleness for me.
I don’t want to need gentleness. I want to be joyfully alive.
Warmth
I told Meirav about a memory, dozing off on my ex’s chest, his warm voice reverberating, his fingers in my hair, listening to him talk to someone I didn’t know, and suddenly realizing he was describing something incredibly violent and threatening. Not towards me, just a situation. His other life when he wasn’t with me.
And one day he vanished without a trace, leaving me to many long nights of I don’t understand, make it make sense.
Meirav says, You got the experience of physical gentleness combined with emotionally not-gentle…
I think about that for a minute.
It was like that dream I used to have of sailing across the ocean in a cardboard box, cozy in my nest of blankets, not getting wet, a safe experience of an unsafe experience.
The opposite of emergency, do I know what that’s like
Meirav: In the dream, you got to experience softness and structure in an emergency. What if you got to experience them outside of an emergency? Do you know what to do with a love that doesn’t harm you?
Me, in English: Okay let’s not go overboard.
Meirav laughs at my seafaring pun but also gives me the look.
Me: It suits me, the box. Let’s stay in the cozy box please.
Head-therapy is cozy, pacing is cozy, what else.
Back to pacing
I was pacing and thinking about how all my wishes for this year have a through-line of time, something about the passage of time, a slow motion montage, for example…
- growing out my hair
- being UNRECOGNIZABLE to myself and to the world but in a good way..
- allowing this chrysalis year of hermit time out in the wilds to shift something
- how can my tiny home on a trailer become livable, functional & comfortable? aka less like fancy camping
- covid-conscious friends or adventure partners to hike with or cook for, or both
- a plan and support to create a structure for retreat space and visitors
- block off view of neighbors so I never see them & can forget they exist
- plant trees…
Music in the distance
All of these wishes feel like [movie music], I don’t know how to explain it better than that, they exist at some time in the future that is hazy and hard to imagine, I feel it there but can’t bring it into focus.
It’s like a jazz bar down the street that our protagonist has not entered yet…
Does that make sense? What do you do when your wish is still just barely on the horizon?
Not sure what the question is but what might it be…
Let’s ask. Maybe it’s about what I’m missing. What happens during the slow motion montage?
What happens during the slow motion montage?
How do I distract myself or obsess over something else while this is happening?
Or how do I get obsessed with these projects when either there’s nothing to be done yet or in the moment, or a million steps to be done and I don’t know where to start.
For example…
For example, hair growth is simply a matter of give it time.
Take your vitamins, don’t look in the mirror too often, give it time.
While making the tiny house livable or doing something with the barn seems like so many steps and perceived obstacles that I get overwhelmed and can’t start. Ahahaha, steps like pacing.
And pacing like the speed of movement, not just the act of moving.
I need an obsession and I don’t know what it is (but is that true)
An all-consuming distracting obsession! Yes please.
And it needs to involve steps (steps! pacing!) or practical things I can do. It can’t just be “wait for things to get better”, because that is not working.
Or maybe I’m experiencing [opposite wish effect] where I want to be obsessed and am not, so everything feels either boring or impossible, or both. But maybe that’s also a distortion of cabin fever and loneliness.
Solved through
Solvitur ambulando is a favourite Latin phrase which I believe we’ve talked about. “It is solved through walking”.
What if pacing is the path and not the problem. What if I can wander my way into my next obsession, stim my way into feeling something?
Do I need to know what I’m training for, can I be in the slow motion montage and not know it yet?
Ritual, rest, repeat. Wish the wishes, keep it moving. Stay joyfully alive, and when it doesn’t feel joyful, I’m still here and we are calling it a win.
Add compassion and stir. Add sensation, feel and wait.
Wishing into the second half of the year
Can I take the fairy godparent blessings of Gentleness-Adjacent, and let them blend with my wishes for Tantalizing Anticipation and Joyfully Alive?
And can I trust that the good obsessions will reveal themselves in good time?
What other well-wishes can we rewrite to make them more enticing?
What else is drawn from the well of wishing?
I can’t wait to find out.
What are your wish-obsessions? Come play with me, I love company
You are welcome to brainstorm obsessions, seed any seeds, play with any of these concepts in any way you like. Come play in the comments!
Share anything sparked for you while reading, or add any wishes into the pot, the healing the power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.
Bonus materials!
Update: I am preparing new bonus materials for the month of July about time and how I prepare for and relate to the different quarters, more about this to come, but anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary (see below) will get these by email by the end of the month…
A request
If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Working on some stuff to offer this coming year, but between traumatic brain injury recovery & Long Covid, slow going.
I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.
And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤
Screening my wishes / a wish for a screen
Wednesday at The Wish Factory
Into the wish cauldron
Wish time. This might require a proxy quest. Let’s find out.
In the meantime, I want to name the various elements on my mind, see if I can get closer to the essence of my wishing.
Writing is a cauldron for wishing, or it can be.
What ingredients are here? What do I know about my desires? Where am I starting from?
Starting from love, curiosity, and from the circumstances such as they are, aka It Is What It Motherfucking Is, which, at the moment, is a heat wave.
Heat (round one)
This heat wave, the one I was dreading last week, is a lot. 97 degrees (36 Fahrenheit), no air conditioning.
By 1pm, it’s too hot to even exist in the front room, even with curtains drawn and fans blasting, so I bring the little chiller into the bedroom and set it next to the bed, directed at me. The bedroom is very small, and with doors shut and curtains closed, it cools down to something manageable.
The good news: I’m able to wake up early and do my bobcat routine, take care of cooking, dishes, a step or two on a project. More good news: once it’s too hot, I have a cooler space to retreat to and be in siesta mode.
The less good news: I sit on the bed in a tiny room for eight hours until it’s time to go to sleep, experiencing hallucinatory levels of cabin fever, and who can say if it’s the heat or being confined to such a small space.
Probably both.
Refresh(ing)
I am trying to stay refreshed by doing all the refreshing things. Spraying or splashing cool water on my face, refilling my tiny ice tray, cooling off with wet washcloth baths.
Making horchata, or drinking iced chai with a ginger chiltepin syrup that I prepped early in the morning.
Mainly I am waiting this out and trying, as always, to do the known things that help, so that I can have more focus and use this siesta time for reading or writing, if I have focus, which I often don’t.
The rains will come when they come, the temperature will retreat to something more manageable, or I will get better at bearing the heat, or I will get better at life in siesta mode. There are options. I am keeping the faith.
But what I really long for, when I tune in to the questions and stones of What Do I Want, What Would Help, What Is The Next Step, my longing has to do with doors.
Open doors
The person who built my very tiny house on a trailer was an artist and a visionary, and the thing with art and vision is they can clash with the practical. I don’t know that they necessarily have to, but I don’t think it’s uncommon either.
Anyway, this visionary had a beautiful vision, of a home that could be open to nature, big doors on either end to open up to a view and a breeze, a dreamy open space that can hold both inside and outside at the same time.
He sold it to me because he wanted it to live out in glorious nature, not hooked up in someone’s backyard, but out in the wild wilds, where the open doors would open to a majestic vista.
And because I am a quiet, eccentric, dreamy person, the right steward for a quiet, eccentric dreamy metal dragon on a trailer, and [chaotic adventures ensued], eventually it ended up out here.
Dreamscape into reality
Of course when you traverse from dreamscape into reality, and from the California coast to the mountains of New Mexico, you are reminded of some aspects of how reality differs from dreamscapes.
For example, you are reminded that reality contains flies, bees, enormous dragonflies, all manner of creatures and critters (are those the same word?), of the crawling kind, the slinky kind, or the flying kind.
All of whom love an open door. Nature abhors a vacuum, and goes wild for a door.
So very rarely do I open the doors. In the morning I do, opening the front doors when there is a lovely cool breeze, and I can keep an eye on the threshold. Lighting incense to discourage the flies.
But what I really want…
Ah yes, okay. Here it is. What I really want is a screen, especially in the evening when the temperatures cool deliciously, and it is lovely outside on the porch, but still reliably miserable inside.
So I end up staying up later than I want waiting for the inside air to cool, and, eventually, joyfully reaching for a blanket in the middle of the night.
But what if I could open the doors and fill the house with cool night air for half an hour or so before bed, and fall asleep comfortable, and two hours earlier? That sounds delightful.
What do I know about this wish?
I thought at first I was zeroing in on a wish for a simple, elegant, inexpensive solution for a temporary, seasonal front door screen, or maybe a wish for information, like for someone to recommend to me the exact right kind of temporary, seasonal screen, and connect me to the right person to install it.
Except that’s not exactly the wish.
Hmmm, maybe it’s really a wish for a personal assistant type of magical person because I have no focus to research these things, and because I am deeply afraid of ordering the wrong thing which has happened in the past…
Which makes it a wish for funds, and for a trustworthy handy-person who will wear a mask and also actually show up. Which is at conflict with my experience that these things can be unreliable and iffy.
Morning air, so sweet and refreshing
This morning, I opened the front doors wide wide wide all the way, and fastened them to stay open, and it was so refreshing, the outside temperature cool and inviting.
My slinky bobcat yoga hour went by so fast, my sun salutations felt effortless, for the first time since my concussion, which as it happens, was two years ago today, happy concussiversary to me.
Well, happy is not really the right word. A quiet and meaningful feast day to me. That’s better.
I began to wonder if cool fresh air is the simple and rejuvenating solution to all that ails me? It couldn’t hurt, so how do I get more of this without being on edge, because another anniversary is coming up and that is the anniversary of a snake in my home, which was very stressful.
Yes, okay, I want a screen! I want to be screened in, please. Cool refreshing outside air, with a boundary. Contained and breezy.
Heat, in the form and sense of sudden anger
I began researching possible screen options, and it felt very familiar. Turns out that’s because this is something I discussed in depth with former handyperson nearly two years ago.
He said it would be easy to install, no big deal. I did so much research, sent him three options, asked which one would work best, if any. He never got back to me, I sent follow-up questions and reminders. He wouldn’t respond.
I asked again when he was here working on a project, but he needed to look at the email, and neither of us could pull it up because of my iffy wifi. And it never happened, and I forgot because I forget things now.
So this project, and even the wish for it, is bringing up some old frustrations, some pain stories and some monster stories. Something about…?
Something about…
If I try to put this big emotion / throat tightness into words, if I were going to cry to a friend about this, what is the narrative, what is in here?
Something about…
[This could have been so easy and he could have installed it in minutes while he was here anyway but no one is available to help me with the decision making process, and I am out of my depth, and scared to order the wrong thing, which I have done so times in the past few years and then I have REGRETS about wasted money, energy and time!]
Okay, let’s proxy this!
In other words, this wish is striking big feelings, too close to home, too close to self-criticism patterns. Let’s view it in a new frame, using something that isn’t going to elicit the same strong emotion.
A proxy is a way to utilize hyperfocus while elegantly side-stepping any potential stuck elements attached to the project you’re actually working on, or the problem you’re actually trying to solve…
It’s taking the scenic route on purpose because that’s where the clues are.
Homemade sriracha, for example
I went to the kitchen in search of ice and another round of Summery Refreshing Beverage, and saw the homemade version of sriracha I made this week.
Honestly, it came out great. I added ginger and some dried chile de árbol for added complexity and richness of flavor. My version is hotter than the rooster bottle, which is not a complaint from me.
It’s good on roasted potatoes, it’s good on eggy fried rice with lots of greens, and I do not currently have any ice cream but am convinced it would be good on ice cream…
Ice cream sounds so dreamy right now
Tragically I don’t have any ice cream or anything ice cream adjacent in my tiny freezer. This is not an unusual situation.
However, I am very tempted, once it cools down enough to spend time in the kitchen again, to whip up a coconut milk semifreddo or a tahini sorbet to test out this theory, which could be a delusion of my heat-melted mind, some kind of dazzling ice cream mirage situation, or possibly I am a culinary genius.
The point is, I am gloriously unconflicted about this beautiful bottle of homemade sriracha, and unconflicted is what we want for a proxy when we are working with wishes. Let’s go.
Who am I in this situation? Secret identity: activate!
I make a homemade version Sriracha. I am, just for the purposes of this creative thinking exercise, The Sriracha Maker.
Okay, let’s see what we have to work with here….
Questions…
What is sriracha about?
What is homemade sriracha making about?
What is being the sriracha maker about?
What do I know as the sriracha maker?
Answers…
Sriracha is about a punch of flavor.
Homemade sriracha making is about the joys of DIY and zero-waste.
Being the sriracha maker is about creativity and playfulness, independence, and the very delightful and compelling (to me) superpower of what if I can upgrade this even more?
What I know as the sriracha maker is that all I have to do is combine delicious ingredients and wait. Then blend and strain. But first wait.
Here are the themes:
Upgrades upon upgrades!
Adding layers of complexity
Enhance the ritual
UPGRADES UPON UPGRADES!
I love that it’s not just the upgrade of not needing to buy hot sauce or have another plastic container in my home, but literally the upgrade of oh wow this tastes way the fuck better.
Adding layers of complexity
I love the layered complexity of flavor that comes from adding ginger and dried Mexican chiles, but what about cumin, dried lemon peel, a cinnamon stick, maybe a splash of alcohol. A sriracha cocktail or mocktail…
What about a sriracha-flavored horchata, for example. Again, the heat could be cooking my brain, but also being playful is fun.
Enhance the ritual (enhance! enhance!)
In Judaism, there is a term for when you are following a commandment or doing a ritual, and you make it more beautiful, hidur mitzvah, the decorating or elevating of the commandment. For example, using beautiful candlestick holders for your candles on Shabbat.
Beautiful ritual objects aren’t required, this isn’t something you need to feel bad about if you don’t or can’t, it’s just a possible form of making the ritual feel otherworldly, beyond or outside of the mundane.
Outside of the mundane
Obviously, sriracha is not a religious ritual, l’havdil.
But for the purposes of this thought experiment, what if it is ritual-adjacent, what if I treat my great love of spicy oils, sauces and assorted hot condiments as holy?
Using a beautiful bottle. Making it in my favorite pot. The joy of a bowl of bright peppers on my counter, all of it is joy, really. And joy is holy.
Thankful for being alive and in a body to experience moments of joy. Not all the time, sure, but certainly when I am putting sriracha on everything. It’s a start.
Let’s talk to the version of me who is The Sriracha Maker
Me: What would you like me to know? What am I missing, not perceiving, forgetting about, misconstruing?
What do I need to know about sriracha, the process of making it, the experience of being The Sriracha Maker?
The Sriracha Maker: Well, for one thing, it’s very meditative, making a sauce. A double form of sorcery.
There is the sorcery of individual ingredients, spending the night together, brining and vibing, then further combining with the application of heat and sugar, until they meld into a new entity, a holy god this is good sauce that is life-ruiningly delicious, in a good way.
There is an additional form of sorcery though in taking the leftover pulp and turning that into something else, frying it up into something chili-crisp adjacent that we like to call Bonus Condiment.
Now you have two condiments, and zero waste. The art of reusing is imbued with magic. Reduce, re-use.
Transformations
Me: So it’s about transformation and also about imbuing, letting something take on its next form. The ego death of the pepper?
TSM: Haha sure, you could say that. The ego death of everything, destruction and creation. And beyond that…?
Me: Ooof, it’s about trusting the fucking process again, are you kidding me?
TSM: Okay, what if we say that it’s about observing the process, being engaged and present with the process, making adjustments as needed?
But yes, sure, one element of sriracha making is very much that:
You might as well have some faith along the way.
You might as well have some faith along the way
Me: What else do you want me to know or understand that I don’t know or understand yet?
TSM: Once you have made one kind of hot sauce you love, you can make others, it’s a hobby or fascination that extends and expands, as far as you like to take this exploration.
You can use the subtleties of flavor and knowledge that you have accumulated in the form of hot sauce skills, and apply them to anything else, food-related or not.
This will make you a better baker, more skilled in general, in many, non-hot-sauce-related endeavors. This practice has applications beyond anything you can imagine right now.
I don’t know if you are ready to hear this, but I’m just going to say it: making these glowing bottles of red pleasure sauce is related to being a writer. It’s not separate from writing.
What would help?
Me: What would help me most? And please don’t say trust the process!
TSM: Haha, obviously I would never. But, take this as an example rather than an instruction, what if? This is how I want you to think. What if you made a pineapple sriracha blend and added it to esquites?
Me: Okay, so this is about the unexpected. What if we put it in a tiramisu?
TSM: That is bold and grand. That is what I’m talking about. Experiments that are bold and grand. Idea sparks. Not just putting it on rice and a protein.
Application
Me: I still don’t really see how any of this applies to the wish of a door screen situation. I get that there’s something about thinking creatively, an expansive state of mind for ideas to bubble up….
And I agree with you that there’s value in observing the process.
I like the part about transformation, having these screens on even just the front door would allow me to feel like I am at sea, enjoying the breeze, instead of relying on just two windows to carry the cool air to me.
WWTSMD (What would The Sriracha Maker do?)
TSM: Do you know what I would do?
Me: I do not! That’s why I’m asking!
TSM: When it came time to make sriracha, we read several recipes…
Me: Is that like… looking up reviews for various screens?
TSM: laughing
I didn’t get what was funny, and had to go get more ice, and then suddenly I got the joke. They don’t want me to screen the screens, they want me to screen the handyperson.
There are reasons I don’t want to work with the ones I know, and I haven’t found new ones, and this requires a screening process. I need a screen, I need to get better at screening.
That’s fair, it is funny, I laughed.
Heat (again)
I keep saying that I am losing my mind in this heat, but also I made hot sauce, so heat is also two things at once. What else do I know about heat?
You can reheat things, like a sauce.
You can apply heat…
To apply heat can sometimes mean to apply pressure…
You can also apply heat in the sense of slow cooking, low heat, low and slow.
Right now I am responding to heat, in summer siesta mode, heat is applied to me, my job is to rest and write and wish wishes. Oh wow, what beautiful wishes.
Concussiversary Wishes
I am going to drink horchata and skip some stones (journal) on What Is Different, What Is Working, and What If You’re Doing Great Babe? Hat tip to Holly for the last one, what a beautiful question.
The wish has been seeded, the ingredients have been placed in a jar. Right now it’s time to wait.
Luckily, I can keep wishing more wishes, consult with The Sriracha Maker, talk to any version of me at all, and find some grace in my thank-you-heart for the miracles.
Thank you, miracles of my cooler sequestered bedroom, the chiller that lowers the temperature by ten to fifteen degrees if I’m sitting right next to it. Thank you, ice trays and modern conveniences. Thank you, taste buds and taste sensations that returned to me. Thank you, friends who check on me from afar.
Now is not then. Now is now.
Want to wish some wishes? Come play with me, I love company
You are welcome to wish any wishes, seed any seeds, play with any of these concepts in any way you like. Come play in the comments!
Share anything sparked for you while reading, or add any wishes into the pot, the healing the power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.
A request
If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Working on some stuff to offer this coming year, but between traumatic brain injury recovery & Long Covid, slow going.
I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.
Or you can buy a copy of the my Monster Manual & Coloring Book if you don’t have it!
And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share one of my posts with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤
Solstice wishes
Solstice Wishes
Quarters, again
I live my life in quarters, reveling in the double meaning that is quarters as living space, sanctuary, shelter, or all of the above, nestled alongside the parallel meaning of quarters as segments of the year, a way to be in relationship with both time and seasonality.
And I love the imagery of quarters as containers for wishing wishes, letting them percolate, all the superpowers of Three Months Later…
Where are we now? YOU ARE HERE.
Take me to my quarters. Am I ready to embark? Not sure. Am I ready to ready myself for the embarking? Yes, let’s find out what is here.
Heat
Here in the northern hemisphere, things are heating up.
My tiny home does not have climate control, and only two of the windows have screens. Last week reached highs of 87 degrees Fahrenheit (30.5 Celsius), and I’m looking at 99 degrees (37 Celsius) coming any day now.
“It’s not so bad, still under 100 degrees”, said more than one friend, forgetting that they are blessed with air conditioning. It is bad though. My brain is cooked. I can’t have a cooked brain on top of damaged brain!
It’s too much. So much is too much. A heartfelt sigh for the state of the world, and all related big feelings, noticing the way this more generalized anxiety blends with immediate situational anxiety.
(Brief pause for processing big feelings!)
What am I noticing?
I am experiencing distress-anxious feelings about the climate in general! I am experiencing these feelings in a more specific way thinking about getting through an especially hot summer in the metal dragon that I live in!
If I’m not paying attention, I can let each flavor of distress-anxiety fuel the others until I am too overwhelmed to access any perspective or Loving Clarity on this. Can I make room for the feelings and also breathe into some new possibilities…
Remembering, slowly
I am slowly getting better at remembering when to close curtains (earlier than I think), when to open windows, when to retreat to bed which is the coolest spot in the tiny house. And refilling the ice tray, though that is also a challenge when I can’t remember what I’m doing for longer than fifteen seconds.
My small portable chiller that saved me last summer stopped working, which sent me into a panic. I am asking for this too to solve itself.
Grounding myself in curiosity and compassion: What is the opposite of a panic? What forms of surprise ease might already be here that I can’t see or feel yet?
The opposite of
The point is, I have been dreading summer with its trials and tribulations — fire danger, monsoon flooding, captive in my tiny captains quarters aka my bedroom because the rest of the house is too hot to exist in.
Okay, that’s so reasonable, babe! And, let’s find out: What is the opposite of dread?
Is it my old sweet friend Anticipation, my favorite quality in the entire world?!
Can I shift from dread and anxiety into the practice of What Can I Be Excited About, and How Do I Tend To Myself With Love And Care?
Where’s the anticipation, and how do I generate some sweetness for this new space, the quarters of this quarter?
What do I want, what is important to me, what are my wishes, what will help?
Seeding the seeds by naming the seeds
A seasonal ritual for me is carving out time to write my wishes — or seeds, as someone suggested in the comments, so poetic, so beautiful, yes to seeds!
I do this at new moon and full moon, at equinox and at solstice. And any other time that appeals, but always at these times.
Since new moon was just a few days ago, these turned into a combination list, and nearly everything on it surprised me. I love to be surprised when it comes to wishes!
As you may know, I have a favorite way to meet a wish or a seed, or many wishes or a collection of seeds, and that is with a heart-felt breath:
Oh wow, what beautiful wishes.
Here they are. What beautiful wishes.
The Solstice Wishes
- Do the things that help
- Always Be Making A Shrub (this is about rituals & sweetness)
- Ahead of the count in all things
- Ask what I want / what is important to me (over and over and over)
- The best views, the most expansive space
- Luscious Minimalist Something Something (the somethings aren’t important)
- Praise as practice
- Scent as practice
- A Good Obsession to the nth degree, so many things to deeply obsess over!
- Figure out how to make the transitions fun and appealing
- Reduce & Destroy (pare down)
- More forms of imaginary ADHD meds please
- Make connections, wish the wishes, trust the process
- More good days
- Devoted to the color yellow, for example
- It Solves Itself (welcoming and staying receptive to the simple elegant solutions)
What do I know about these wishes so far?
I’m noticing a lot about ritual and practice, and I see some sparks of hopefulness.
A love for aesthetics and the delicious deep dive of a good obsession.
Some of this is about letting my ADHD self run wild and frolic, and some of this is about playful forms of supportive structure.
Let’s talk to a solstice self
Let’s talk to a solstice self.
Who is the me of this quarter (and these summer quarters that I am inhabiting), this year? What do they know?
I think this self is my outlaw self, aesthetically very Sharon Stone in cowboy drag if you ever watched The Quick & The Dead, though I am imagining a version of this archetype who is not reacting to everything from trauma.
This is the quick-draw self of the wild wilds, who needs an expansive vista so they can stare off into the horizon, who craves adventure and a cozy bunk in equal measures. In pursuit of justice, in pursuit of the pursuit.
This is the self who has already been through whatever this summer holds, and can guide me through. Head me off at the pass, cowboy Sharon Stone! Yeah, okay, that’s hot.
An adventurer self who is also a homebody, and sees zero contradiction here, even though I still do, because I have not yet acquired the wisdom of this solstice to equinox self.
Alright! Hot Cowthey Outlaw Summer let’s goooooooo!
Solstice self / hot cowthey summer outlaw self, talk to me please
Solstice Self: You are a visionary, who lives in the visions.
This is good and sometimes hard to move into the practical, you are getting better at this. You are working from circumstances that are not ideal —- the heat, the mysteries of funds, a lack of appropriate fuel, the lack of a working shower which would help in the heat especially, the mysteries of waiting on other people for input you want now, etc.
And yet, still, you are the one who accesses visions, holds them, allows them to shift, you are so much witchier than you think.
You already know this: your powers are accessible and enhanced when you are feeling grounded, stable, and powerful like a bobcat or a mountain lion, so yes, do whatever it takes to support that state.
Do the things that help
Me: Is that what Do The Things That Help means?
Solstice self: Yes. Sometimes you wait to do the things that help until you need them. It used to be that you would wait until long after you needed them, so this is an improvement, good job on that.
Now I want you to do them before you need them. I want them automatic and ingrained.
There is simply no need to wait for an emergency or a panic to do the things that help in an emergency or a panic, just do them without a need arising. This is the advanced practice.
Me: So, like, preventative medicine?
Solstice self: No, not like that. The old pattern of perceiving [doing the things that help] as medicine is what exacerbated self-destructive behaviors to begin with. New metaphor, new consciousness.
Me: So I do these rituals and practices, not because I will need them later but because they are what I do. These are the things I do, not as medicine, just as a way of being.
Ritual & repetition, again
Examples of the things that help:
So much of what I do is heavily routine-based, and that’s mostly because I live in a state of Perpetual Goldfish Brain, thanks to traumatic brain injury from a concussion, Long Covid erasing what was left of my ability to remember what I was doing at any given moment, and ADHD.
Thanks to ADHD or the combination of autism and ADHD, my natural tendency is to either space out or deep dive. I am either drifting in my own dreamy world of thoughts and imaginings, or I am hurtling down a rabbit hole of enthusiasm needing to learn everything about whatever my latest obsession is.
Add a traumatic brain injury and Long Covid, and I do not ever know what I’m doing, what I meant to do next, or even what I am in the middle of.
And so my day is very scripted. I wake up, dry brush, hydrate, do my slow kitchen jog of figure eights and think my thoughts, take imaginary adhd meds round one (a vitamin), do a six minute meditation, do my bobcat stretching and so on, each step leads to the next, otherwise I will get lost, and even with all these steps in place, I still quite often get lost.
Let’s talk to solstice self again.
I don’t know what the question is
Me: I want your guidance and I don’t know what to ask, I don’t know what the question is, just show me what is needed please…
Solstice Self: You already have such supportive structures in place, we are just going to be shoring up the transitions, and also focusing on the joy.
You love Cooking Club, so that does not need to be perceived as a chore, writing feels good when we have arrived at the right topic, and it does not feel good when we are forcing a topic.
So what I want us to work on is, instead of getting frustrated when writing feels like forcing, just calmly and casually switch topics until one is yes.
No forcing, just percolating and keep it moving
No forcing, no pushing, just move on to the next topic. Whatever needs to be forced is not ready, and needs to percolate. That’s a good thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
Me: Okay but isn’t that how we just end up with ten thousand mini drafts? And isn’t that the opposite of reducing and paring down? Ohmygod please do not tell me to trust the process, I can’t.
Not trusting the process is fine actually, but what about this?
Solstice self: If cowboy-drag Sharon Stone said, “do you trust me?” and held out her vengeance-seeking cowboy hand, you’d follow, right?
Me: Yes, I am a sucker for cowboy drag Sharon Stone, that movie was my bisexual / pansexual awakening, that and Nicole Kidman in To Die For, oh, and maybe also Julia Roberts in Sleeping With The Enemy, good lord the early 90s were so intense.
Solstice self: If you won’t trust the process, will you trust cowboy-drag Sharon Stone?
Me: Oh, interesting. So I’m disinclined to trust the process, because I’m disinclined to trust anything, but sure, I’ll follow Sharon Stone wherever. Yes, okay, I get it, I’m in. What happens next?
What happens next?
Me: What happens next?
Solstice self: You already wrote it down, in the wishes. You do the things that you know help. You commit to ritual and repetition. Always be making a shrub. Make sure you have an expansive view. You don’t have to trust the process, but you can trust Sharon Stone in cowboy drag on a mission of vengeance.
You can start small. Scent as practice? Light a tea light with some of the loose incense you made at equinox. Heat some cloves in a pot of water on the stove.
Let everything be Imaginary ADHD Meds, including lighting a candle or drinking a shrub.
Shrub shrub shrub shrub
I think I already wrote about my obsession with shrubs and how much I love them (yes, in The Horchata Proxy!), and how much I love the word itself, which comes from the Arabic sharab, a drink.
I love the simplicity in that. We are drinking a drink, and this is the drink.
And of course I love the process of combining ingredients, giving them space and time, and coming back to find that they have become something new and magical, which is also a form of trusting cowboy Sharon Stone.
Last summer I was deep into shrub life, and then got out of the habit, because winter was so cold, and my refrigerator is so small, and I kept forgetting to get vinegar.
The shrub I made last week is strawberry ginger, I used date vinegar from the middle eastern market in Tucson. It is sweet, acidic, complex, all the things I want from summer.
Simplicity, sweetness, surprised by magic. Isn’t that enough? Can I let it be enough?
Where do we go from here?
I have seeded the seeds, by naming them.
Whether I continue to explore them through journaling and stone skipping or not, they have been seeded.
My job now is to notice and pay attention, stay receptive to clues and good surprises, notice where I am tripping myself up, and continue to do the things that help, with tenderness and care.
Doing the things that help, then keep doing them
Light a candle, stretch like a bobcat, do the things that help. Make a shrub, find a good obsession, stare into the horizon, do the things that help.
Notice what works, notice what hurts, love myself a little more if I can, make space for what is if I can’t.
No need to trust the process, it’s doing its thing either way, and there is some liberation in that if I want it, and even if I don’t.
Here’s to simplicity, sweetness, surprised by magic, lighting a candle for the seeds doing their beautiful seed thing while I sail through the seas of the season on my imaginary ship, the good ship Solstice.
Quick question/survey!
Two things, actually.
First: I was considering sharing my baseline outline for how I set up or schedule my quarters and build each season, maybe how solstice to equinox looks for me as opposed to equinox to solstice.
Is this something you’d be interested in reading more about? If so, let me know in the comments if that’s something you’d like to see in a future post!
The other thing is I’m hearing from people they are no longer getting these posts via email, apparently the plug-in that runs rss email subscription is no longer supported, so if you know someone who wants to try to solve that, I’m seeding a wish for a simple solution.
Come play with me, I love company
You are welcome to play with any of these concepts in any way you like. Come play in the comments!
Do any of these solstice seeds resonate with you! Or maybe you wish to seed other solstice seeds and wishes for yourself! Have at it.
All experiments are useful experiments. What wishes or themes are you currently playing with? What is in your list of Doing What Helps?
Share anything sparked for you while reading, or add any wishes into the pot, the healing the power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.
A request
If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Working on some stuff to offer this coming year, but between traumatic brain injury recovery & Long Covid, slow going.
I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.
Or you can buy a copy of the my Monster Manual & Coloring Book if you don’t have it!
And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share one of my posts with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤
Rewriting a narrative & other bedtime practices
Rewriting a narrative & other bedtime practices
The monsters of bedtime and their long list of regrets!
As soon as I get into bed at night and begin to consider the world of sleep and dreams, the monster-litany of regrets begins.
It’s a list, made by my monster voices of self-criticism, of all the things I didn’t get done during the day, even though I meant to, and all the ways I fell short at [everything].
And, as the listing of items goes on, I also notice some genuine sorrow in my heart about the gap between how I wish to live and how a day in my life actually goes.
The question remains
The question remains, as always, how do I disconnect from this monster-ing worldview of Shame & Blame, while meeting any heart-sorrow and myself with love and patience?
In other words, without being even remotely impressed by anything my monsters have to say, how can I also use this as a way to get closer to myself?
How can I locate and use the neutral information inside of the list, because once we strip away the guilt over what hasn’t been done, the list is full of clues about my true yeses and how I want to live…
What is a monster-litany
For anyone unfamiliar, I use the phrase monster talk to describe the cacophony of self-criticism that is a combination of internalized cultural stuff that comes from capitalism + puritanism (“you should have done more today, striving & achieving & accomplishing is what life is all about and you are bad at life!”), and various internalized family stuff. Stuff-stuff! So much of it.
Let’s not forget the general doubt-anxiety-shame spirals related to being a person in a body in a society.
The fraughtness of existing, sure, let’s call it that. Monster talk is the internalized blame-shame spiral of the world we live in, put into thoughts. Thoughts that sometimes pretend they are mine! But they aren’t, not really.
A part of me but not the whole of me, a part of me but temporary
They are a part of me, but not the whole of me, a part of me but temporary and meaningless.
And, importantly, they are not aligned in any way with what I actually believe in a heart-soul sense or a felt sense.
You know what, they are hop-ons!
Thought-hop-ons, that’s hard to say! But you know what I mean.
We can firmly instruct them to leave, and we can also notice who and what hops on, and get better at loving-discernment, which might be a form of loving-clarity.
Hearing or perceiving, naming & noticing
For me it helps a lot to name what they say so that I can separate it out from what I actually believe or want to believe. I will give examples of how this works!
Recognizing is how I separate from it, and separating from it is how I am able to meet myself with compassion, to the best of my ability, or get a reality check from friends if I can’t.
This practice of noticing is also a way to remind myself that this collection of cultural expectations, obligations and shoulds are a) impossible to meet to begin with, and b) often entirely unrelated to how I actually want to live or be in the world.
Approaches
So I wanted to talk about some of the approaches I use to quiet this, or reframe it or turn it around, so that I can sleep well and not spiral into anxiety, dread and the bad place.
And also I just wanted to talk about the phenomenon in general, because naming the pattern helps us see it or otherwise perceive that it’s happening.
And interacting with what’s happening reminds us that we can be in conscious relationship with these patterns instead of them running / ruining our lives, yes? Okay, let’s talk about it!
Technique: Thank you for the list!
If we put all the shame, blame and feelings aside for a moment, we have just been given a comprehensive list of what to focus on the next day, week or month.
If I just jot down the list of things and leave off the finger-wagging, now I have some direction.
I am always clear with monsters that I do not accept rudeness. I might say, You absolutely cannot speak to me like that, you are welcome to name the things you’d like us to work on this week, and you are going to be kind about it, because that’s how I best receive information.
Reminders (for me, for monsters, for all of us)
I might also remind them (and myself) that the list of what we think can be done in a day is always significantly longer than what can actually be done in a day.
Not only that, this was also true long before my concussion, before long covid, back in more energetic and able-bodied days.
And I remind them and myself that we have run many experiments with the Internal Scientists to demonstrate again and again that our perceptions and expectations of what can be done in a day are not anchored in consensus reality. Turns out that things take time actually, and sometimes we need to let them percolate.
And then I thank them for the list.
Technique: The reverse list
They named what I didn’t do? Great, let’s name what I did do.
Not, to be clear, that I think doing (doing anything, doing in general) is the be all and end all of being a person!
In fact, just the opposite. I actually happen to believe that not-doing is often valuable, healthy, meaningful and important, and even when it’s not, it can be neutral.
There’s no reason (if we can take a breath and remember a world beyond capitalism and internalized guilt) to think that not-doing is negative. This is something I’ve written about quite a bit.
However, in addition to reminding myself of all of the above, I like to make a list of what did actually happen in the day, because quite often it is more than I remember, more impressive that I am inclined to give myself credit for, and clarifying in a way that is useful.
Could a depressed person do all of that???? Turns out I did!
Naming what I actually did
My monsters of course are furious about literally everything that did not get done, and have all the usual complaints: you accomplished nothing, aren’t doing the minimum, wasting your life and your talents, falling behind etc etc, and they notice so many things I didn’t do…
And yet, look at what happened today! So many wins for one day!
- 35 minutes of morning kitchen jog used to be hard but it’s fun & easy now!
- 90 minutes of slow morning yoga
- homemade banana bread for breakfast, the decadence!
- cooked down ten onions for two hours until they were what Tamar Adler refers to as Elusive Golden Jam, to go on everything, for now on red chile rice…
- made coffee anise cardamom syrup to have with chai tomorrow
- listened to a podcast and learned things
- bravely did kitchen congruencing & organizing even though it can be so hard and stressful, I am the bravest
- heroically remembered to take vitamins
- went through email
- cleaned out a scary drawer, good job!!!
- hand-washed some garments and hung them to dry
- mostly stayed focused & calm, a miracle
- did some journaling
- hell yeah, taking steps towards yeses even when it feels like just fighting with no
Naming a wish-hope!
And maybe tomorrow I will have more luck with transitions from one activity into the next and not find myself turning to distractions that make me feel bad…
Maybe I will be able to find a way from morning movement practice into supportive forms of doing (or not-doing!), and not distraction ops that make me feel bad…
Lighting an imaginary candle for this beautiful wish!
Naming and noticing other wins!
Monsters stay enraged about the list, and yet…
My wise self points out that the fact that today wasn’t a space out & stim day even though yesterday involved cooking for several hours, which means I need less recovery time than I used to, which is amazing actually.
I am forgetting that even though my unequivocally good days are rare, I’m having fewer crash days!
And all that is impressive actually as much as monsters want to say it’s not, and all the more so after a busy day that had involved a lot of standing.
Forgot to do some important things, but they can go on the list for tomorrow, it’s gonna be okay, babe.
Bonus: Naming the things I don’t perceive to be impressive but would like to!
This is basically a rewriting exercise. For example, my monsters think aimlessly pacing is a waste of time and a form of avoidance, and something I do too much that is wasting my life, but what if it’s not…?
An hour pacing, good job, babe! Good job, being autistic! Good job, knowing you need to move and then giving yourself movement! Pacing is such a useful way to let thoughts work themselves out, it’s a form of release, it helps with perspective, what if we get extra points (sparklepoints parade) for pacing…?
Good job, stimming. Good job, staring staring out the window aka taking in nature aka giving yourself a break aka letting the slow healing process be what it is, good job, good job!
Good job, figuring out that your mood could be shifted by doing a hair wash in the sink since we still don’t have a working shower. Good job, realizing that vacuuming would help.
Technique: Get a reality check, it helps!
I love sharing this list with my friends, because they are way more impressed than I am, and this perspective helps me be kinder with myself.
My friends notice things that I don’t appreciate. They say things like, Wow, you are so committed to your movement practice, and that’s beautiful. Baking banana bread so you have it for tomorrow is such a good plan! Cake for the collective! An inspiration to us all!
And if I tell them that I am feeling anxious because I perceive (monster-thought!) that I have Done Nothing and Everything Is Bad, they know what that’s like! The most relatable thing ever!
And they can see it differently with their wisdom and loving-kindness (loving-clarity!), and by doing this, I am reminded of the ways I can see things differently too.
Related technique: how would I respond to a friend
And how do I respond, quite often actually.
Because this happens to my friends too, and it is very easy for me to see how what they were able to accomplish on the most stuck days is valuable, meaningful, and planting fractal flowers for the future.
Good job, crying through therapy for the collective! Good job, watching a movie and getting clues! Good job, going down a rabbithole that will prove useful later! Good job, learning what doesn’t work so you can try something else next time! Good job, fudge and popcorn for breakfast is so celebratory and inspiring! Hell yeah, making it work!
I feel such warmth, love, adoration and enthusiasm for my friends. I am wholly unimpressed by their monster thoughts in the same way that they are unimpressed by mine. I can unequivocally see the good in how they did what they could.
So even if friends aren’t available to give me a reality check about my monster list, I can imagine what they would say, or what I would say to them if it were their list.
Technique: the wise self counter-narrative
This is something I figured out I could do one day while doing gentle yoga before bed and contemplating the difference between a monster narration of my day, as opposed to the way my wise loving self might narrate or interpret what happened…
A monster narration:
Aaaaah I screwed up and deprived myself of the most vital thing for my mental and emotional well-being (morning stretching and sun salutations) in pursuit of FOMO (going to the farmers market) and it wasn’t even good!
I squandered what little energy I have, and wasted time and money for nothing, then was too hungry to function, ate all the food on hand, scrolled into oblivion, and yet again I am a known loser who makes bad choices and no one is flirting with me, which is rude, and this entire day was garbage….
A wise self narration (an interpretation & reframing)
Actually, let’s look at how this farmers market experiment went even though I didn’t enjoy it and got mad that I skipped morning practice.
What actually happened? I wisely clarified that the most important thing in my life is my one true love, morning practice, and simultaneously clarified that [fear of missing out] is monster nonsense, and officially confirmed that I’m not missing out at all!
And how fortunate that this was the exact right day to be hungry, because I had a strata ready to go into the tiny toaster oven and made room in the fridge by eating it, all good job!
Then I heroically did many small bits of congruencing that will make my week easier, and even made time for an hour of evening yoga, so despite being tired & cranky, winning! A glorious Saturday, in which I learned that I don’t have to try going to the market again, so many points to me.
And a brief mention of adding in anything physical
Something I talk a lot about is techniques in the hard versus in the soft, or physical level techniques in addition to mental-emotional level techniques or energy techniques or spiritual realm techniques.
So: everything I’ve mentioned so far in this piece is very mental level, in part because that’s the easiest kind of technique to talk about in a written format, where we’re already in thinky-thought mode.
This is your reminder that we can also add physical elements to a mental practice! For example I could play with any of the techniques named here while in legs up the wall, or while tapping my face or doing facial massage, or while shaking it out on the floor.
You can yawn several yawns or dance to a song, or take sixteen breaths.
Or whatever you like. Try things, see what helps. 🙂
Where do we go from here / where can we go from here
As we say so often around here, it’s a process.
Maybe one day I will get to the point where I don’t have monster-thoughts before bed or they don’t need to present me a list of All The Many Things I Didn’t Do, or I won’t care, or I will have already made my own list of what’s next.
And, also: we are where we are, working with what is. And where I am right now is dealing with a lot of pre-bed anxiety and a monster list. So these are the techniques I’m using.
As always, we try things, we note what works and what helps. If something doesn’t seem useful or isn’t for us right now, we can skip it and try something else.
It’s a process of experimenting, and all experiments are good experiments. The worst thing that happens is we learn something useful, and then try again, good job to all of us for being brave and trying things.
And a last word for now
Being a person in a body in a culture is hard! Or it can be.
It can take time to even notice our thoughts and feelings, or how an experience triggers a thought-feeling, and sometimes we find ourselves whooshing down a familiar neural pathway into a series of patterns before we can even think to interrupt them.
That’s okay! It takes practice. And noticing the pattern changes the pattern, even if we notice after. We’ve still altered the pattern by adding on the noticing. It used to be A-B-C-D-E-F, and now it’s A-B-C-D-E-F- noticing! Or even A-B- noticing-C-slightly different D, etc.
It all counts. Noticing is powerful. Trying anything new is powerful. Feeling how we feel and letting ourselves feel the things we feel is a big fucking deal. Good job, babe. You’re practicing. Noticing patterns for the collective! The collective appreciates it.
I am lighting a candle for positive shifts, and glowing all love and appreciation your way. May all of these experiments get progressively easier, let’s get better at giving ourselves more credit. Sparklepoints all around!
Come play with me, I love company
You are welcome to play with any of these concepts in any way you like. Come play in the comments!
Which of these techniques (or others) are you interested in experimenting with? What patterns are you gently and lovingly rewriting —or gearing up to rewrite which is also part of the rewriting, and it all counts!
All experiments are useful experiments. What wishes or themes are you currently playing with? What helps?
And of course you’re invited to share anything sparked for you while reading, or add any wishes into the pot, into the healing the power of the collective is no small thing, and companionship helps.
Here’s to locating the most supportive rituals and experiments, with so much compassion.
A request
If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Working on some stuff to offer this coming year, but between traumatic brain injury recovery & Long Covid, slow going.
I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.
Or you can buy a copy of the my Monster Manual & Coloring Book if you don’t have it!
And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share one of my posts with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤
Loving Clarity
Loving Clarity
For a long time I noticed myself avoiding Clarity.
Specifically, I would avoid asking for clarity, or wishing any Clarity-related wishes, especially if I had the sense that Clarity was what I needed most in the moment.
Or I would bravely put Clarity in my compass and then not want to even interact with my compass.
It’s so reasonable if you think about it…
Let’s be honest. Clarity can be a little scary.
Do I really want to know, do I really want to see clearly, do I truly want the insight I think I am asking for?
Stopping just before (turn left for Clarity)
Clarity lives at round 38 in my morning sun salutations, each of which gets its own word or words, a quality or blend of qualities, and for the longest time I would just inexplicably get either mysteriously tired or suddenly extremely bored about halfway through round 37.
Until eventually I realized that this was just another way of not interacting with Clarity, not interacting and not approaching. Holding back. Coming close and then freezing.
Not approaching it as an intellectual concept, not as spiritual essence, not as anything.
Was I tired-bored or was Clarity too much to contemplate, even in wish form?
Nah I’m good, no thanks
I could let myself get close-close-close to wishing the wish and then be like, nah I’m good, don’t show me what I’m asking to be shown actually.
It’s such a thing, isn’t it, to crave something and run from it.
Sometimes I am the magnets drawing towards, sometimes I am the reversed magnets pushing away, sometimes I want and resist the want.
This is not something I judge myself for. It’s something I notice and am curious about. That itself is progress, and the kind of progress that emerged from past moments of Clarity.
Being patient with my distrust of Clarity (or the distrust of wishing the wish) is what eventually brought me to some Clarity about that…
Add Compassion and stir
A quality I meditate on sometimes is Hesed, a Hebrew word that often is translated to Loving-Kindness.
I love love love Loving-Kindness. Sometimes you just need a good hyphen.
Sometimes one word isn’t enough and the other isn’t enough, and you need a blend, like mullein leaves and lemon balm in tea, something happens when you let them hang out, each one knows how to amp up the other.
I love Loving-Kindness for its poetic feel, and I love it as the translation to an impossible-to-translate feeling, something warmer than Mercy, sweeter than Grace, kinder than kindness, an enhanced kindness.
Add Compassion and stir.
A softening into
Maybe Kindness all by itself can feel like a should? Or just too out of reach? Being kind is work, or it can be, and now we apparently also need to be kind to ourselves????
Ooooof. That’s rough.
But Loving-kindness is softened, it’s a vibe. It’s not something I have to do, be or embody, it’s something I can nestle into, a puffy white cloud, a comfy blanket.
I love that the way [a loving approach] can temper the kindness and turn it from a perceived chore into a warm hum in my heart. A softening into.
Hesed. Hesed. Hesed. I can feel myself tuning myself to this, a self-tuning, attuned to the loving intention that informs the kindness.
What else can we transform with [Loving]
This question is how I arrived at Loving Clarity.
When I interact with Loving Clarity, I know I am asking for a clarity that is not harsh or cruel, it isn’t a monster-driven, self-critical “here’s all the ways you should feel terrible for fucking up”, it isn’t judging me in all the ways that I am prone to judge myself for being human, messy, complicated, confused, sensitive, or lost.
Loving Clarity is not tough love, it is loving love, even when the thing it is clarifying might be challenging or hard to receive at first.
Loving Clarity is devoid of shame. It delivers the clarity with a warm hug, and so much patience.
It is easier for me to be receptive to Loving Clarity and not fight it, I don’t get tired doing sun salutations when I reach the Loving Clarity set.
Here’s what it looks like…
Loving Clarity meets my compass
I use a compass of bobcat-like qualities when I walk through my slow, patient, very-modified sun salutations:
I am Fierce, Fearless, Powerful, Striking, Of The Earth, Wild, Glowing, Alive.
And then these take on, or blend with, the qualities of each round, each time around the compass gets a new word.
So for example, round 1 is Tough: I am tough & fierce, tough & fearless, tough & powerful, tough & striking, tough & grounded, tough & wild, tough & glowing, tough & alive.
Reversing the compass: Fierce & tough, living my life & staying tough, glowing my glow & staying tough, wild & tough, grounded & tough, strikingly tough, powerfully tough, fearlessly tough, and back to fierce & tough to return north.
Here is what asking for Loving Clarity looks like…
Or what it might look like in this context, I flow with whatever words come as I go:
I fiercely welcome Loving Clarity with love,
fearlessly inviting Loving Clarity with love,
standing in my power welcoming Loving Clarity with love,
strikingly steady and asking for Loving Clarity,
grounded and of the earth, welcoming this Loving Clarity,
in the wildness of my wild self, asking for Loving Clarity to reveal itself lovingly,
alive in my aliveness, requesting Loving Clarity,
fierce in my Loving Clarity,
living my life, asking for Loving Clarity to guide me,
wild in the wilds, receptive to Loving Clarity,
grounded grounding, come in, Loving Clarity,
strikingly steady, ready for Loving Clarity,
powered by these powers, receptive to this Loving Clarity,
fearlessly welcoming Loving Clarity,
fierce in my fierceness, show me this Loving Clarity!
Slow Time Tea
I made a blend of tea from dried mullein leaves & lemon balm, let it steep for a while and added a bit of my rosemary-lavender simple syrup. It is a cool breeze day, raining on and off.
The clouds move and shift, sun and rain show up at the same time.
I am watching the clouds, the changing skyscapes, the impossibly green juniper, silvery cottonwoods shimmering in the breeze.
So calm and peaceful. Anxiety this morning, but not now, my mood weather changing like the New Mexico sky.
Waverly’s book, Slow Time, sits next to me on the table, as a reminder, and for company. I love how she still reminds me to bring a kindness to slowing down, to find the sweetness in going slow.
I want to ask her how she feels about Loving-Slowness as a companion to Loving-Kindness. I wish she were still with us.
A breath and a glass of tea for that.
What can be added, what can be blended, what needs more time
Considering Hesed and tea and blending words and missing people who are gone also makes me think of my mother, because her word for this was Rachmanut. Compassion.
Add compassion and stir.
Is it a slow process? Sometimes. Can I add compassion to that too…
If it’s not kind, it’s not wisdom
This is something I reminded a friend the other day, and often need to remind myself.
Sometimes I will have a thought that comes disguised as clarity or insight, but is really just monster criticism, more shoulds, more self-admonishing, just another way of being deeply impatient with myself and how I am, or how I am experiencing being a person in a body with a lot of trauma.
Maybe there’s a kernel of truth or utility in the criticism mechanism, but mostly it’s just another way to be mean to myself. If it’s not Loving Clarity, then it’s not clarity.
It’s more about “ugh just do it already” or “why are you so stuck on this”, which isn’t actually helpful, instead of a clarity that meets me in the moment with no agenda other than love, curiosity, patience, wonder.
If the wisdom is unkind, then how wise is it really?
(The parenthetical asides)
Obviously I’m not talking about the times we need to call each other in, and ask each other to do better, and I’m not certainly advocating for sugarcoating all messages at all times, this is more about how can I interact with myself with great compassion, and welcome a form of Clarity that is deeply kind.
And obviously we don’t need to engage the trolls or meet the assholes with love, definitely not suggesting that. Block & report! Safety first! Sometimes the answer is a good dose of shock and awe, just saying.
And obviously all of this parenthetical-asides-ing is me trying to avoid being misunderstood, a desire which is a constant in my heart and which the internet tells me is also an autism thing, how fun that literally everything about me turns out to be that, or that plus trauma, or that plus adhd, or that plus a lifetime of being misunderstood!
Can I meet this with compassion as well?
Also existing online is just by necessity the experience of being consistently misunderstood on all topics, so that’s a known entity too.
Add, stir
All that said, just as an idea, if we begin to add Loving- to anything and everything, as a general practice, maybe we can transform these patterns as well. Can we assume good intentions, at least when it comes to people we love, whose good hearts are familiar to us?
Or can we approach with warm-hearted intentions ourselves, ready to have a hard conversation when needed.
Maybe as we get better at clarifying with ourselves what is wisdom and what is clarity, as we get better at welcoming Loving-Wisdom and Loving-Clarity, we can also have more ease when it comes to discerning who is not going to learn or engage IRL, versus the people with whom we can have those genuine connections and the Add Compassion conversations together.
I am still thinking about this, and about how it relates to Slowness, and to Clarity.
Something about miracles
Yesterday I was lucky to experience several of the kind of miracles where a bad thing doesn’t happen, and it’s such a relief when you realize what could have happened but didn’t. A blessing in disguise that is also a blessing in surprise?
Obviously I love this for me, and I love it for the collective. More of these miracles for all of us, please.
May it be so or something even better!
And also…
And also, without shitting on that kind of miracle, I find myself deeply craving the other kind of miracle, the kind where something just unequivocally GOOD happens, you know?
The Loving Clarity of miracles. The kind, sweet, tender caring miracles. The this-is-just-a-good-thing miracles.
I crave this. I welcome this. May I find a way to be unequivocal in my wishing.
Some of the first kind of miracles yesterday also involved some big scares, and my nervous system and body are still recovering from that. It’s uncomfortable. It’s the Clarity without the Loving- part.
I am still working on Add Compassion And Stir.
Miracle One
I was at the laundromat and had just parked. Opening the car door, I saw an absolutely enormous wolf spider in the doorframe, and then I am not sure what happened, but I definitely scream-panicked and slammed the door.
If you don’t know what a wolf spider is, I am not telling you to google it because you might never sleep again.
Okay, they are harmless but also terrifying, because in the moment when you see one, it’s hard to remember that they aren’t there to hurt you.
Kind of like Clarity.
At least there’s that
A wolf spider is like, hmmm, how do I describe it.
Imagine a giant hairy tarantula that is also a speed demon? Good lord, they are so fucking fast.
At least with a tarantula, you always know where it is. It’s exactly where it was before. Tarantulas are predictable, unlike Clarity.
So when I opened the door again, the wolf spider had already relocated from the back seat to the front seat, and I screamed again, which was fun.
Always be a screamer, if you can
I haven’t seen one since I lived in Arizona, and honestly would have been fine to never see one again.
Anyway, it was in my car and I wanted it not-in-my-car.
And a van pulled in next to me, a mom dropping off her teens, and I was like OMG PLEASE BE MY MOM TOO even though she was probably significantly younger than me. And she took care of it, bless her fighting spirit, braver than the marines, amen.
She said, “I have to warn you, I’m a screamer.” Me: “Oh, I absolutely LOVE screaming, I am pro-screaming, please scream. I will feel so much better if I am not the only one screaming.”
So maybe it was more like please be my girlfriend. I am not good at flirting when I am terrified.
It all worked out
Okay, whatever, in the moment, I was entirely incapable of dealing with a humongous wolf spider that could have walked on me, possibly while I was on the freeway and then I probably would have driven off the road.
Do you see? So many miracles in the category of things that didn’t happen.
My new not-mom / not-girlfriend was super nice about it, and she also had a huge knife on her, which is honestly so hot, and we ended up not needing that or my shoe, and actually neither of us screamed, and it all worked out and now my car is, I hope, wolf-spider-free.
Blessings upon this, as my friend Cate would say, because I honestly don’t think I could have driven home with the speediest, hairiest tarantula-lookalike of all time tearing around my car like a vilde chaya.
So much good fortune. So many good surprises, including an unlikely ally at the exact right moment.
Miracle two
I drove back much later than anticipated, the sun slowly setting as I made my way along the winding country road.
The sunset was so hypnotic, directly in front of me, swaths of peach melting into lavender, swirling into each other, what a sky, just devastatingly beautiful.
And I had the thought that I needed to stop looking at it, because the thing about country roads is there are deer and elk, and wandering cattle, all manner of creatures. It was a clear thought, so very clear.
Stay very focused on the road babe, don’t let the beauty distract you, came the Clarity, Lovingly.
Came the Clarity, Lovingly
I was reminded of the road trip I took with Waverly after she died (the road trip was real, her companionship imaginary) and how she told me to slow down in the exact right moment and prevented a tragedy.
And so I focused intently on the road, and, maybe a minute later, two carefree country dogs just ran right in front of my car. I wouldn’t have seen them in the dusky light and anyway it happened so fast.
Another miracle of nothing bad happened / the bad thing didn’t happen
I braked fast and may have given myself some light whiplash.
One of the dogs, the larger one, stopped itself just in time, almost next to me, and the other made it all the way across the road.
Breathe, breathe, babe. You did great. Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. You were attentive, you were lucky, it all worked out. Loving clarity.
And sure, maybe my neck got fucked up but see also: the miracle of nothing bad happened, which is a big miracle.
Still here, good job
I thought about this more as I headed home to my parcel of land and my miniature home.
How fucking awful would I feel forever if I hurt or killed a dog, it strains my heart. Loving-kindness for anyone who has been there, no one should have to go through that.
And then I was also thinking about how if I had hit one of them or both of them, I would have had to walk up to some Trump-ey homestead in the dark, and they would have yelled at me or possibly shot me (love this country), and I would have to be like, yes I feel terrible and also why are you letting your dogs casually wander across winding country roads where the speed limits are not low, and then they definitely would have shot me, so bonus miracle, I am still alive!
The dogs are alive and I am alive today too, good job. Go team. Blessings abound.
Recovery
Maybe this is also related to Loving Clarity, and how I want [Loving Clarity > Clarity], in part because it’s apparently the only way to get me to Clarity.
Or at least, the best way to get me to Clarity, and also because kindness is warranted in these tough and bewildering times.
Miracles happened, and I am grateful.
And, also, at the same time, scary and disruptive things happened, and even though I am okay, I am not all the way okay. Recovery time is warranted.
I got on the floor this morning and did a lot of shaking it out, and ninety minutes of slow, slow, slow bobcat yoga, and a meditation about things that lift themselves, which is maybe about Ease, also about Loving Clarity.
Blessings upon the miracles, blessings upon the clarity, blessings upon the recovery, shake it off, shake it out, repeat. Add compassion and stir. Add compassion and rest.
Clues
As you know, I love a good double meaning, or layered meanings, and Loving Clarity is so perfect because it is about inviting a form of Clarity that is more loving, and it is about Loving The Clarity that comes.
It is about being loving with myself in the process of seeking Clarity, and it is about clarifying how I want to receive Clarity (lovingly, with Love).
Clarity, be kind and sweet, please. Clarity, be warm and gentle with me. I might still scream, but meet me with love.
Add patience, add slowness, add steadiness, add compassion. Blend gently.
Thanks for the miracles. Can they soften some more? How about some Loving Miracles.
Will who loves all beings
My friend Will, the Wildlife Biologist, the friend I met on the day I asked to learn more about The Wild Life, and apparently my request to the universe was translated as “would you like to learn more about wildlife”, loves all beings.
(It is truly amazing the way he loves all beings.)
What an honor to know such a gentle soul. I am not like this at all.
Anyway, I told him about the wolf spider in my car, and he laughed and said he has two who live in his bathroom. Two! They live in his bathroom!
I mean
If it were me, I would simply burn my house down or flee to another country and start all over again, or seduce an El Paso mom into running them out of town, I don’t know, something drastic would have to happen, or something lucky, or both.
But Will just lives peacefully with two wolf spiders.
That has to be a clue about something. Loving Clarity, come in, come in.
Loving Clarity, come in, come in
Do you see the difference?
Clarity, sans Loving, might be something like “wow, I am annoyed by most beings”, but Loving Clarity is more like, I see there are many options here…
Loving Clarity shows me that many things are possible, but it does not judge me for being someone who shrieks in panic and needs the wolf spider out of the car.
Loving Clarity reminds me to slow down and watch the road, even in a moment of being deeply present with wild transformative beauty, but it isn’t a chastising or even a warning. It’s a what-if, a how-about, a let’s-try-something-here…
It is not should-based at all, and yet we somehow quietly end up at radical acceptance of what is in the moment, and an appreciation of miracles. If we can.
And when we can’t, that’s reasonable and understandable, because Loving Clarity isn’t about wow I fucked up again, Loving Clarity is about what is and can be possible.
Add compassion, blend gently. Add compassion, wait and see.
Something about right timing
I started this piece in the first days of December. That is to say, I wrote the words LOVING CLARITY, and then wrote absolutely nothing else. Blank page on Loving Clarity!
Every week or so, I’d remind myself how I wanted to write about Loving Clarity, and I didn’t, until now.
If I was operating from a rushed get-it-done perspective, or trying to force the clarity without adding compassion, I might have ended up writing something else.
But I waited, and it happened in Slow Time, and by the time I was ready to say what I needed (or wanted) to say, new information had come to light, new experiences had offered themselves into the mix, and I had been given more time to consider how Loving + Clarity work in tandem.
Sometimes I tend to feel frustrated when the words don’t come, and yet I keep learning over and over that if I add compassion, the timing will sort itself out. I’m glad I waited and didn’t push myself for the clarity or for the right words.
Invitation / Invocation
I am inviting Loving Clarity, for us, with great love, a form of clarity that can be good to us, shedding light in a way that is sweet and useful, may it arrive in good timing and do what is needed, with softness and no neck pain, with recovery time and built-in grace.
A loving clarity that is embodied and moves with quiet ease. Keep it moving, rest as needed.
What tempers clarity and makes it actionable, or even something I can receive to begin with?
Add Compassion and stir and wait.
Miracles welcome.
Come play with me, I love company
You are welcome to play with any of these concepts in any way you like. Come play in the comments!
What else can we add Loving to? Loving-X?
Loving-Honesty! Loving-Rest? Loving-Simplicity! What happens when we add [Loving-] to other words to amplify them or otherwise enhance their trajectory of purpose, if that makes sense…
All experiments are useful experiments. What wishes or themes are you playing with? What would help?
And of course you’re invited to share anything sparked for you while reading, or add any wishes into the pot, into the healing the power of the collective is no small thing, and companionship helps.
Here’s to locating the most supportive rituals and experiments, with compassion.
A request
If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Working on some stuff to offer this coming year, but between traumatic brain injury recovery & Long Covid, slow going.
I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.
Or you can buy a copy of the my Monster Manual & Coloring Book if you don’t have it!
And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share one of my posts with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤