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.
Very Personal Ads #8: it’s extra meta on Planet Havi this week
Personal ads! They’re … personal! Very.
So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.
Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.
And now it’s my weekly ritual. Yay, ritual!
Let’s do it!
Thing 1: Perspective.
Here’s what I want:
Things are pretty hectic on Planet Havi right now.
Teaching in North Carolina. Flying back to Portland. Taking off to Berlin.
Oh, and running a business at the same time. And writing a book. Wow.
So: I would like some tiny, sweet moments of quiet. Moments of grace, spaciousness, expansiveness.
Other than the ones that come during meditation or yoga or in the midst of the delightful whoosh of equal parts calm and chaos that is Shiva Nata.
Spaces. Breaks. Gaps. Little safe holes to crawl into.
Here’s how I want to get them:
Quiet little deguiltified reminders.
Or they could just show up.
Or I could remember to take them.
Or my gentleman friend could help me create intentional spaces for brief bits of not-doing.
Or? I’m open to possibility.
My commitment.
I will treasure these moments. I won’t wait until sickness or exhaustion make me take them. I will enjoy them even if they are brief. I will drink them in.
Thing 2: A blog post about Very Personal Ads.
Here’s the situation:
So I have been trying to write a post about these Very Personal Ads.
Well, about Very Personal Ads in general.
As a practice. As a concept.
About why this is not (for me, at least) an especially wacky practice. How (for me, at least) it has nothing at all to do with “law of attraction”-ey kinds of stuff.
Because people have questions.
And because they say stuff like “I didn’t know you believed in x, y and z” (I don’t) or “I don’t know how to make this work” (I do).
And the post is just not writing itself. And I can’t seem to get in the mood to write it.
I have lots to say about the topic. I just can’t write the post.
More about that:
It’s really important to me that people know they are completely allowed to have their own experience, whatever it is.
Because I have zero desire to dictate someone else’s experience or to impose my own Theories of How The World Works on them.
So if someone already has a life philosophy that’s working for them, awesome.
And at the same time, I want to give you guys the freedom to not have to subscribe to any particular reality theory to get big, crazy benefits from this practice.
And I want you to have tools that work, so that you can use Very Personal Ads (if that’s something that even kind of appeals to you) in a way that’s healthy and effective. And sustainable. And fun!
Ways this situation could resolve itself:
Maybe the post could write itself!
Maybe I could teach a clinic about how to create Very Personal Ads …
That could make it a lot easier to cover things like how to do it so it works. Or why it’s not necessarily a hippie spiritual practice, though it can be …
Maybe I can just give this time to gestate and stop trying to push a post that isn’t ready to be written.
My commitment.
I’m open to what comes up.
Willing to be surprised.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
The server issue is resolving itself nicely. Tech Pirate Charlotte is doing her magical genius thing.
The money showed up. We’re good for now.
And I’m still working on the “receiving support in a variety of ways” thing. But the working on it is really helping me.
And on Tuesday, I received amazing resources of support from an unexpected source and it was really freaking cool.
Big crazy biggification stuff happening over here. And a lot of people are coming together to make it happen.
So I’m feeling good about it.
Comments. Since I’m already asking …
I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about I would like to receive in the comments. And that way, if you feel like leaving one (you totally don’t have to), you get to be part of this experiment too. 🙂
Here’s what I want:
- Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for.
- Thoughts or ideas about ways any of the personal ads here could come true.
What I would rather not have:
- Reality theories.
- Shoulds. As in, “You should be doing it like this” or “That’s not the right way to ask for things — instead it should be like x, y and z”
- To be judged or psychoanalyzed.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird. I’m commit to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and to interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as is possible.
Thanks for doing this with me! Doing the Very Personal Ads with you is one of the highlights of my week.
Friday Check-in #55: Blonde Chicken Chicken Chicken.
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
I’m in Tennessee! Whee!
Hanging out with Tara the Blonde Chicken and getting ready to teach three days of wacky brain training near Asheville, North Carolina.
Which is basically the best thing ever.
Doing the Friday Chicken while sitting with the Blonde Chicken.
It’s a Double Chicken! Chicken.
The hard stuff
Overworked. I mean, over-working.
I worked through the whole weekend.
By choice, yes.
There was a lot to do and I was excited about doing it and in the zone.
So I don’t regret it. But it meant a lot of tired and grumpy this week until I remembered that I had to suddenly kind of take a weekend in the middle of the week.
Which was annoying too. Because this week was crazy.
Monday.
Every once in a while, things converge in such a way that every single thing I don’t want to do needs to happen at exactly the same time.
I’m pretty sure Mt. Hood (which, by the way, I still don’t believe in) was in retrograde again.
Because Monday was the day. Phone calls I didn’t want to make. Bills I didn’t like. Conversations I didn’t want to have.
Blech.
Stupid little mistakes.
Things going wrong.
Little miscommunications.
Seriously, how did we manage to send two people the wrong DVD in as many weeks? How is it that I put in huge chunks of really good, focused work and still don’t get to the things that I actually want to do?
GRUMBLE!
Needing to rest.
Extra-schleepy. Not so much the functioning with the schleepy.
The good stuff
North Carolina! Shivanauts!
I have been looking forward to teaching this weekend of Shiva Nata Wackiness forever.
The plans! They are full of fabulous! The people! They are awesome.
The Shiva Nata! It is the bomb.
Very exciting.
Will fill you in more next week. But I am super happy about this.
My site is having a birthday!
The Fluent Self is four years old.
Though the colors and typefaces are the same and the basic layout is similar, it doesn’t look very much like it did then.
Wow. Four years.
That is the crazy.
Big changes. Many little steps. And but but but but.
So the huge thing this week was that I did something I’ve been wanting to do for over a year.
I turned the blog part of the Fluent Self site into the main thing — so that when you go to the site you get sent straight to the blog.
Because for the longest time it felt like I had this kind of serious, sober front door and a big, fabulous party hidden in the back.
And if you knew to come in through the back door, there was always mad fun to be had back here. But you had to find your way. So many people would just stand at the front door and then go away.
But I thought I had to have that serious front door to explain something about what I do. But though it wasn’t the right explanation any more, I hated to let good copy go to waste.
But but but.
And the truth is, all this not making the change was really (as my friend Janet says) about loss. And about recognizing that sense of loss.
There was just this part of me that didn’t want to change the beautiful site that my ex built for me.
And then … I was ready. And it happened. And I’m really happy about it.
I’m really appreciating my pirate crew!.
It’s not easy running a pirate ship. And I get so much help.
And I am feeling especially grateful for my wonderful First Mate Marissa Bracke who keeps so much stuff off my plate.
Also she helps me in my impossible practice of saying no, and even approves of me saying no.
Actually, she says things like:
Go-go gadget BOUNDARIES! (Wonder Twin Boundaries, Activate!) etc. etc. 🙂
Because she’s awesome.
And … playing live at the meme beach house!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
So this week, I bring you:
A Thousand Middle Columns
Me: “So then it’s like A Thousand Middle Columns.”
Ez: “Dude. I heard it’s just one guy.”
(Special thanks to Wendy Cholbi for this week’s band name!)
twitter link
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.
Why DO I charge so much? Part Two.
So last time we talked about how I can even think about charging for things (especially “when information should really be free”).
And I promised that I’d also get around to answering the people who want to know why my stuff costs what it does.
One more thing: I know you guys are super smart, so I probably don’t need to point this out, but …
These two posts aren’t (just) for the hurt-and-upset people who don’t understand why I charge “so much”.
They’re also a resource to help you feel safe standing behind your own prices, if/when these issues come up.
“Your stuff is probably good, but why do you charge so damn much?”
I really want to acknowledge how completely frustrating (and frightening) it is when you’re in a tough situation financially, you want something that can help, and you can’t make it happen.
If you hang out on the blog a lot and know a little of my history, you know I’ve been through some terrifyingly hard times of really having nothing. Times of not able to imagine being able to ever afford anything beyond (tfu tfu tfu) basic survival needs.
So I get how awful it it can feel to interact with someone’s prices, especially when your own situation feels completely desperate, and you really need to know that help and support is accessible for you.
It’s so hard.
And I don’t know if a post will help you or not. But here are some thoughts, in no particular order — you can use them or not use them as works for you.
Answer #1: sustainability
I’m not interested in running an “exchanging time for money” business.
If I did, I’d work a gazillion hours a week and then have to go have an emotional breakdown. It wouldn’t just be the occasional emergency vacation. I’d be a big freaking mess. All the time.
My duck would hate it. My gentleman friend would hate it. I would hate it.
That wouldn’t serve anyone. Not me. Not my Right People.
And my intention is to help as many of my Right People as possible — while still taking care of myself.
Answer #2: charging what I charge lets me help more of my Right People
Remember when I talked last time about how I give away nine hours of my time every single week here on the blog?
The stuff that is for sale here (which I totally don’t shove in anyone’s face — there’s a “here’s where you can get stuff” page and that’s about it) supports the entire business.
It allows me to write these posts. It allows me to give away tons of information and Useful Concepts.
It allows me to give stuff away — and give it gladly — in situations where my heart is really pulled to make an exception for someone who needs it.
Answer #3: I actually should be charging more
If I charged based on results, I would charge more. A lot more.
But again, it’s about serving my Right People, so I don’t actually charge what I could.
My superpower is zapping stucknesses. My clients regularly have breakthroughs that might otherwise have taken twenty years of therapy.
They say things like “ohmygod I feel fifty pounds lighter”, and that’s after the first twenty minutes of working on the stuckness.
So if I charged based on what people actually receive from my work, no one would be able to afford me until … after they’d done the work.
Which wouldn’t be very effective.
Answer #4: the hidden benefits of higher prices.
This kind of deserves its own piece. For now I’ll just point out that Mikelann Valterra of the Women’s Earning Institute argues that at least half the people who are interested in your services shouldn’t be able to afford you.
My friend Mark says that every time we have to stretch to commit to a transformative process, the act of stretching is useful.
And Naomi says you should double your prices every three to six months (or, alternately, every time someone writes to you complaining that you charge too much).
Because higher prices:
- function as a sexy red velvet rope to keep people out
- keep you from being overwhelmed in your business
- can help people make a stronger commitment to doing the work
And yeah, when the people who need your work have to make a big decision about whether or not they’re going to work with you — and maybe even save up for it over a period of time — they treat it seriously.
They’ll actually use the stuff you teach. Because they had to work to make it happen.
Answer #5: to encourage people not to hire you.
True, if you’re in the frustrating position of desperately hoping for clients, this seems like a pretty insanely weird thing to want.
But at a certain point in your business, you’ll want and need more time for your own healing/recharging process, and to figure out what needs to happen so that you can share your legacy with as many of your Right People as possible. You’ll need to biggify in a more mindful way.
And when that happens, you need to encourage your people to try other stuff first (like books and ebooks and programs and courses) instead of just hiring you just because … well, because they can.
And if your coaching and consulting rates aren’t prohibitive, people will keep hiring you. Which is not really what you want in the long term.
For me, it’s very useful that my rates are high enough that people think “you know, I’ll just take a class with her and Selma instead and maybe save up for a consultation later”.
It gives me time and space to grow my own practice in a healthy, sustainable way.
Answer #6: to find out who your Right People are
It’s not that all your Right People can necessarily afford you right now.
But if they’re your Right People, they feel the resonance.
They might not be able to hire you right now, but they want to be someone who can hire you eventually.
Your Right People believe in your work and what it can do for them.
Your Right People are more or less where you are on the sleaze-non-sleaze-kosher-marketing continuum.
So by definition, someone who is your Right Person will never challenge your prices.
Example: someone recently said that my blog would be good if it weren’t for the fact that I’m “constantly promoting my over-priced products”.
I’m going to go out on a limb and guess … not one of my Right People.
(Of course if I’m still worried, I can do the math. If I’ve written 338 posts and four of them were about upcoming classes or programs … hmm, we probably have different definitions of “constantly”.)
Your Right People are going to be kind and supportive.
Knowing that someone isn’t one of them gives you the freedom to not have to take their commentary seriously.
Answer #7: my Right People are willing to invest in themselves
You know what? Michael Port charges $1000 for forty-five minutes on the phone, and $5000 for a whole day with him. That’s a lot of money.
But it’s totally worth it. I know it is. Because I understand how the concept of investing-in-myself works.
And because when I paid close to a thousand dollars to take a seminar with him in Vancouver, I came home with a thirty thousand dollar idea and the confidence that I could implement it.
I also used his advice to hire Marissa to be my First Mate on the pirate ship, completely transforming my business. This also allowed me to go on email sabbatical, which is pretty much the best thing that has ever happened to me.
So I know that whatever I invest in studying with him will give back exponentially, both in terms of money and my emotional well-being. Yay emotional well-being!
I still haven’t put aside my five thousand dollars to spend a day with him, but it’s something I’m saving up for. It’s not because “he charges too much”. It’s because I’m still learning to invest in myself.
Answer #8: resonance.
I’ve written before about the art and science of resonant pricing.
If you read that article, you know two things:
- if you’re resonant with your prices, your Right People will be too.
- I get all of my prices from a meditation that I do, and I have other people do the pricing resonance exercise with me.
Which means? That I feel steady and comfortable in the price that shows up. And that if someone challenges my prices, that’s a clear sign that they’re not feeling the resonance. Which means definitely not one of my Right People.
So … why are my prices so high?
They’re not.
They do exactly what I want them to do.
Comment Zen for today.
What I’m not looking for:
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or have shoes thrown at me.
- Criticism on the topic. It’s totally fine if you believe that it’s not worth engaging in discussion with people who ask why your prices are what they are. And at the same time, if I’m willing to have the conversation with people who sincerely want to know, I want to be allowed to have it.
What is welcome:
- Thoughts about my bigger theme of creating a safe space for your Right People, while keeping healthy boundaries so you don’t have to take on other people’s stuff.
My commitment.
I commit to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and I will interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as possible.
Item! Holy shavasana, Batman!
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
Wednesday!
I am in headless chicken mode again — getting ready to head off to North Carolina to teach a weekend workshop of fabulous wacky brain training.
So today’s Items! may be (Item!) a bit more chaotic than usual. If that’s possible. Which I don’t really think it is.
Item! Post No. 31 in a series that has pretty much become a tradition despite itself.
Item! Walking the path.
Remember Waverly Fitzgerald (Waverly!) who got me to name my moons and then you played with me? Wasn’t that beautiful?
I loved this post from her called The Path.
So sweet.
“My path is more like a maze. My work is five blocks south and three blocks west of my house. I haven’t really worked out the math but I figure there are probably at least 45 ways I could walk those blocks, depending on which block I turn at, and that’s not including the occasional alley (I love alleys).”
Her book Slow Time is such a favorite of mine, and she is an outstanding teacher. So smart and so kind and so curious and so full of play.
Love.
Item! I heart Christine Bougie.
You might know Christine Bougie if you hang out here a lot in the comments.
I’ve been listening to her music all week.
Oh. My. God.
The album is Hammy’s Secret Life and it’s fantastic.
She’s @christinebougie on Twitter.
Item! Don’t mess with Pisces!
Super interesting (and funny!) post from Shannon Bowman about her conversation with the Pisces moon.
She takes the wacky-talking-to-yourself stuff that I do and takes it somewhere completely new.
Of course, I know pretty much nothing about astrology other than that I like hanging out with Virgos (hi, Colleen and Mark and Hiro!). And that apparently I am the posterchild for pisces.
But the fabulous fish drawings knocked me out with their freakishly accurate description of my good and not-so-good traits.
And the post is still really great even if you’re not into any of this.
Pisces: “What do you always tell people about Cancer?”
Me: “Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside.”
Pisces: “Ok, good. Well, you already have the crunchy part covered, so you’re not ready to work on that yet. You have to get the middle part down first before you can put the shell on; otherwise you’re just empty inside.”
She’s @clover on Twitter.
Item! This is the best comment I have ever had the privilege of receiving.
It’s from the brilliant Wendy Cholbi (whom I adore) and she wrote it in response to this bit I wrote on the Shivanauts blog about the Retreat in Taos.
“Here’s a poem I wrote during the retreat (it’s a double dactyl, which is an eight-line poem with a specific syllabic stress pattern that makes it perfect for wacky observations — also the stress pattern helps me remember the correct way to pronounce “shavasana”):
Higgledy-piggledy,
Holy shavasana!
Dancing with Shiva is
breaking my brain.Molecules, neurons and
thoughts reassembling
into a radical
new kind of sane.I feel obligated to explain that there’s an implied “Batman” after the “Holy shavasana!” line. Because I always hear it in an excited cartoony voice in my head.
Time to submit this comment before I chicken out…”
I. Love. Wendy.
Holy shavasana, Batman!
She’s @wendycholbi on Twitter.
Item! Stuff changes.
So back in May (really? that long ago?) the fabulous Laura Fitton aka Pistachio and I taught a class about how not to be strategic.
And not in an ironic “ten ways to NOT succeed in business” sort of way.
Actually about the strategy of not being strategic. And how that is our sneakified way of being successful.
Specifically it was about using Twitter and social-media-ey stuff in a non-gross, non-overly-intentional way to have fun and get your thing in front of your Right People.
But without being (or feeling) icky or weird.
Anyway, we were going to raise the price back up to something semi-normal, and then we both got crazy-busy.
So. Last I heard, it was going up to the regular price of $64 on September 6.
Item! “What an extraordinary question!”
This post from Mahala Mazerov is so completely perfect.
Some questions are so outrageously inappropriate … that you don’t really have to answer them other than acknowledging that yes, they are … extraordinary.
What a great lesson.
“It makes a thundering statement while saying very little, and prevents getting hooked into any ugliness. Used skillfully, it cuts through so cleanly that nothing more needs to be said.”
She’s @LuminousHeart on Twitter.
Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
I really haven’t been doing anything on the Shivanauts blog other than planning for Berlin and the two months of madness fabulous workshops to come.
Well, that and working on the manual.
But things are moving and shifting under the surface. Go-go-gadget-epiphanies! Or something.
Item! Comments!
I’m still having fun with the theme of words that are cool to say over and over again.
So let’s stick with that.
And anything you think I should be reading!
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. See you tomorrow.
Naming the rain.
Remember when we named the moons?
I just found this cool, related thing! And it’s so perfect.
I was catching up on posts from Suzette Haden Elgin (swoon!) and she was talking about rain and naming types of rain. Twenty-seven of them.
This was inspired by a writing-form from Ron Carlson called “The Twenty-Seventh Rain” …
“THE HITCHHIKING RAIN, almost cold, a rain we had to ignore as we faced Route 8 …”
And she liked it so much that she came up with her own run of rain names:
“THE DRAGON RAIN that chased us across the fields and down the roads and wrapped us all up tight in warm wetness.”
Awesome.
So — of course — how could I not do some rain-naming of my own?
Havi’s Rains
- THE RAIN OF THE UNENDING SOAKING while headed to work, wondering how to make bearable nine hours of standing behind the bar in wet jeans and squishy cold socks.
- THE RAIN OF THE PORCH SWING that is solid and steady but never cold, and is sometimes accompanied by a glass of something, no ice.
- THE RAIN THAT FALLS ON YOUR TENT when you have a sprained ankle and are half-hiding half-dozing under mosquito netting, dreaming of someone special to you. And then there they are.
- THE RAIN OF LATE FOR SCHOOL always makes you feel a little more guilty, drops falling from the ends of your braids.
- HITTING THE GROUND RUNNING RAIN when lightning strikes right above your head, and you and your gentleman friend realize as soon as you pick yourselves up off the ground that a quick run to the cafe was actually a terrible idea.
- THE RAIN OF APOLOGIES. I’m sorry.
- THE RAIN OF NOT HAVING ANYWHERE TO GO because you have nowhere to go and this has been true for so long, and ducking into Tomer’s cafe, knowing that someone will buy you a coffee or a beer eventually.
- THE RAIN OF HOPING NO ONE WILL NOTICE THAT YOU’RE CRYING.
- THE RAIN OF THE GREENHOUSE that gives you permission to spend another hour curled up with your book and your bear and some cushions.
- THE MISTY RAIN OF DANCING THE DANCE OF SHIVA BY THE OCEAN. This rain is so fine that it breathes on you through the trees. Have you done Dance of Shiva in the rain? It’s like being the rain, that’s how beautiful it is. As if you are a fish or a flower or a star. It is liquid math. It is the perfection of nature and I am being it and it is inside me and through me and around me and just me.
- THE RAIN OF WATCHING PEOPLE MAKE SCRUNCHED-NOSE FACES against it. Because it was so sudden that no one has an umbrella. And you are on a tiny covered bench, watching the nose-scrunching.
- THE RAIN OF REBELLION AND DELIGHT that comes while everyone is nose-scrunching and running for cover. There is one little kid in a striped shirt who walks slowly, looking up, with a delighted smile. His hands are moving around his head and his expression says: Look at this! Drops! On me! They tickle! How completely wonderful to be alive in this moment and have water drop on my face! Wheeeeeeeeee!
- THE COMING AND GOING THUNDERSTORM RAIN OF TAOS that gushes and stops, gushes and stops, while I write and write and write, leaning up against the wall of the room where Willa Cather listened to the rain too.
- THE RAIN OF THERE IS NO REAL WORK TODAY when you work in an orchard … and so you wake up blinking, knowing that the day will be slow and meandering, painting ladders and taking long breaks. Another mug of instant coffee on a red-checkered table cloth. Sorting screws and bolts. Missing the trees.
- THE RAIN OF WEARING A SCARF AND GLOVES IN JULY in Berlin — in July! — hugging the borrowed, soggy peacoat to yourself, wrapping yourself up in imagined warmth and knowing that California is waiting and that the money for the ticket will emerge from somewhere. Because it has to. Because you remember the winter. And your hands remember the feel of hauling up buckets of coal from the scary, scary, scary basement.
- THE RAIN OF YES I LIVE IN PORTLAND* that is so strangely gentle. Look, it’s raining. Again. Walking through it, hand in hand with my gentleman friend, it leaves drops on my eyelashes. It’s a pretty rain.
*My brother has a little ditty he likes to sing that goes like this (must be sung out loud): “I live in Portland, Oregon … I think it’s going to pour again …”
- THE RAIN THAT MAKES TINY HOLES IN MOUNDS OF SNOW.
- THE RAIN OF KNOWING YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO ANYWHERE that is especially good for napping. But also for baking bread.
Play with me?
You totally don’t need twenty-seven. You don’t even need ten.
But five rains? Three rains? One rain?
Do you want to name rain with me?
It’s a pretty neat thing.