this is the 368th week of wishing, come play!

welcome the muse / the muse is welcome

contrary to popular belief
[muse] is not capricious
you don’t need to set off on a complicated journey
no search party is required, there is no sense in wondering
where muse has gone or why —
it hasn’t gone anywhere

muse is here
it is just a question of being very clear with the welcoming intention
there is an invitation that needs to be issued
not the kind you send through the mail
a very immediate invitation

like the inhalation-moment of opening the door to welcome
a beloved person on the other side
you don’t knock for the muse and wait for muse to do the opening, no
definitely don’t cross your arms and wait for the knock,
or for muse to waltz in on its own
sure, sometimes it will, breathless, full of excited whisperings
but in general, as a rule,
the opening is your job
opening is the job

think of it this way:

their hands are too full with gifts and flowers
and anyway, just open the door

what it isn’t

in second grade we watched a film strip
about the postal system
a child put a letter into a mailbox
and then we followed the bright red envelope and its wild ride
the striking color making it stand out
amongst its thousands of white-and-beige traveling companions

I can’t remember what happened to the envelope
if it arrived at the house of a waiting pink-cheeked grandma
or something equally cliched

(wait, a memory inside the memory)

actually, huh, I just now realizde
my primary memory of this experience
is the utter exasperation and scorn seven year old me
had for the disproportionate excitement of her classmates
reacting to the visual trick of the colored envelope,
jumping and yelling I SEE IT I SEE IT THERE IT IS
each time it made an appearance on screen
when of course it would, that was the
entire point of the film strip
to a) show the envelope, and b) manipulate us into participation
now I am laughing because I hadn’t realized until now
how impatient seven year old me was, so aware of the rigged game,
the dissonance, the constant gaslighting

pause-and-breathe

a breath of appreciation for constantly-frustrated tiny-me
because this memory-story actually kind of explains a lot,
and also oh wow that poor hsp kid who had to spend her days in
a shouty overstimulating environment,
and a breath of appreciation for me-now who
can more easily understand see how following the grand adventures of a
red envelope might be a playful joyful thing
I might be better at being seven now than I was when it happened
(and also I would be better at being the red envelope…)

okay so that is not what I mean at all
obviously seven year old me was just-right at being seven
and gets all the sparklepoints forever
just noticing that me-now has uncovered a childlike wonder
which feels new

back to musings (yes) on what muse is and isn’t

muse is not the traveling red envelope
not for me,
it isn’t the sending of a request and then, who knows,
if all goes well, maybe you’ll receive a response or a visit
someday, someday
once your envelope has gone through all the envelope places
sure, sometimes it can work like that
or can be experienced that way

for me though, inviting the muse is more like opening the door
the moment of opening says yes, please: Entrez
I operate, always,
on the assumption is that muse is already here
waiting for me to open up
I’m the one who has forgotten to feel for
the tingly sensation, the certainty,
knowing something is here for me, waiting for me to say yes

more example stories of what muse is and isn’t (for me)

have you ever watched The Bold and The Beautiful
it’s a wonderfully terrible soap opera
maybe that’s true of all soap operas, I don’t know,
anyway, I used to watch it a million years ago
always with the sound off, reading the hebrew subtitles
purportedly to improve my speed reading but of course
I got addicted to the drama

anyway, the show centers around two competing fashion houses,
and there’s this recurring and ridiculous plot line
of oh no one of the designers can’t design
because he has lost his muse,
and this invariably means that he needs to sleep with someone
who is usually and inconveniently married to someone else,
and if you didn’t speak english (or hebrew)
no one would blame you for assuming that
“muse” and “getting laid” are actually synonyms

and hmmm okay there is an aspect of truth in this
for me, again, always for me
because damn writing goes better when I’m getting some
and I wouldn’t say no a hot ten minute dose of “muse” right now,
(yes, I miss the long lost cowboy)
not only for the writing boost but other side effects
like Inexplicably Miraculous Good Hair Day and
Can’t Stop Smiling

but it’s mostly a misunderstanding

because, again, muse doesn’t come as a result of
something happening
and muse doesn’t require other people to get involved
muse is waiting for you to get quiet enough
to open to it,
to remember that you can open to it
it is the declaration of receptivity that is
the invitation

and maybe sex is or can be a declaration of receptivity
or a reminder of what it is like to be in that state of mind,
that state of body-mind
this is more of a clue about muse though
than an explanation
what else do we know……

despite what you may have heard…muse is not petty

also not moody, picky, fussy, petulant or passive-aggressive
these are all misunderstandings

it is true that muse (generally) won’t burst in uninvited —
though again, sometimes it does, when it is needed
or maybe in a moment when you needed to know
how much you needed it
or maybe in a moment that is terribly inconvenient
because muse is like OH NO BABE WE ARE DOING THIS NOW —
but most of the time muse is at ease, calmly waiting
for you to notice-and-remember
to issue the invitation
from a state of quiet receptivity and that willing curious yes

invited

weekly family dinner with my aunt in tel aviv,
a marvelous chaotic affair always,
her father, in his nineties, the yekkiest of yekkim,
would absolutely refuse to come to the dining room table
at dinner time unless we specifically invited him by name `

even if someone yelled “dinner is ready” and everyone
started scrambling over each other in the direction of the dining room
he would sit upright in his chair
until eventually my aunt would ask why he wasn’t coming to dinner
and he would say
— lo huzmanti —
— I wasn’t invited —
and she’d sigh and say I’m inviting you now
and he would sniff THANK YOU and come to the table

muse can be the tiniest bit like this

but with a different intent, a different feel
muse isn’t miffed about not being invited
muse just wants you to say that you’re ready

SAY IT
NAME IT
WANT IT

muse will come onto the dance floor
when it’s good and ready
but if you want it to be ready
be brave and ask
and ask like you mean it
issue the invitation
open the door and say yes

like this

moses at the burning bush said hineni
here I am
abraham, jacob, samuel, isaiah
that’s what they all say
when [divine] calls on them
I am here
not just here but receptive, waiting, listening
alive with the tingly awe of this moment
that is a way to tell [muse]
you are ready to play
hineni

and like this

Sing, O Muse or: Sing in me, Muse
is how homer begins the Iliad
this is maybe the ancient Greek version of hineni
I’m listening, muse
come through me
I’m opening space for you

I can be the channel for wise me
but wise me comes in when wise me is welcomed

and maybe also like this

my lips hovering a millimeter and a half
apart from the lips of my lover
a moment of almost that is a declaration:
I am fully engaged in this now-ness,
come, come be magnetic and magnetized
with me
yes

it is understandable when we don’t ask

for one thing, the rigged game keeps us too busy
for the kind of getting-quiet-and-listening
getting-quiet-and-inviting
that welcoming the muse
requires

for another, we are afraid to know
what we don’t know
afraid of our desires

but —and I feel strongly about this —
there is big power in saying
here I am
and here we are
listening

what do I know about my wishes?

last week’s wishes were seeds of light that went deep
and now all I want to do is listen listen listen
and dismantle all the false constructions and camouflage
that keep my light from glowing (inward and outward)
I will listen for the melody
I will open the door to muse
to Freedom and to Pleasure
Presence and Intention
opening with crown on
full glow
I am here

p.s. you come still walk the path of stones with us

marvelous things come through turning inward and listening
you can also do it to fuck with the patriarchy and undo rigging
and of course participating in this course is a lovely way to
express appreciation for what is here
for the words I write each week and the work of self-fluency

and if all that weren’t enough there is also the course itself
six weeks of a path of stones in a secret online space
plus ebooklet plus deck of cards!

—> here is the sign up link, my loves!

now

last night I missed the bus back to Portland
which means it was not my bus
literally in addition to metaphorically
and I stayed in a hotel
wrapping up [past-me who was homeless] in
layers of safety and
love

though, still, nightmares through the night
and today dark circles under my eyes

the wifi password here is get your ship together
which might be the most prescient piece of
treasure I’ve ever received
as Agent Sloan said: what a heart clue
maybe that’s my stone to skip today

how do I wish to put my ship together? what is the feeling of my ship when it is together?

time to get quiet and listen

the superpower of deep listening

July was HARMONY, with the superpower of hearing the melody, and the natural extension of that, which I didn’t even realize at the time of channeling the qualities for this year’s calendar, is exactly where we are now….

August is MUSE, and the superpower is Deep Listening

hearing the melody was good training for going ever deeper and listening to what is beyond the melody

thank you, past-me, for being such a good namer and calling this into being

last week’s wishes

last-week-me wished a wish called let’s channel something new here …

and this wish set some things into motion for me, and both the bridge and the Italian told me something I wasn’t ready to hear, and it was important, and I am listening now….

invitation: come play with me…

you are invited to share many !!!!!! about what is here,
or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading, including any stories you wish to let go of, any adventures you wish to welcome

deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, intel, possibly in code

safe space for creative exploration asks us to let go of care-taking and advice-giving

wishes are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing

here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: oh, wow what beautiful wishes

♡

Hello, week: we are here.

{a breath for being here when we get here}

Thank you, week!

This is the 417th week in a row and I am glad we are chickening here together!

What’s been working?

Not trying to solve/resolve all the things or think ahead to next steps. This moment now: what is needed? And then doing that.

This not only has been keeping me calm but also is supporting my bigger wish-mission of living by Do Less and Choose Ease.

I might try…

Keeping snacks around so that if a panic comes to visit or low blood sugar hits, at least I won’t have to deal with both at once. And also because this is a way of providing for myself, which is a form of self-treasuring.

Naming the days.

This was the week of learning about prowess and these were the days.

Sanctuary is beautiful. It’s all so clear. I’m a Special Occasion. Immersing and releasing. Harmonious space. Better names. Letting a new melody come in.

Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…

Not A Worry And Not A Care: Okay Well We’ve Figured Out The First Half Of That Which Is Pretty Amazing But We Still Care Kind Of A Lot

8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

1. Why do I go to the toxic places? I know the answer. Because pellet-pushing sometimes yields pellets of sweetness and sweet distraction and these are addictive. Ugh I went on twitter and read the things I should not have read. A breath for breathing through.
2. Holy god, the circus of the American elections in general and the republican national convention in particular, this is all very distressing. A breath.
3. I have gone from being over Portland to being really over Portland. But also I have to keep visiting Portland because of [projects]. When can we get to No More Projects. That’s the wish. A breath for trusting the exit signs.
4. Got super disassociated after seeing a woman suddenly collapse in the street and being part of the helper crew. Took a while to realize this had stirred up memories for a very young me (five? seven?) who was a tiny witness when my mom had a stroke? At least that is the word I vaguely remember being used but it seems bizarre. She collapsed. I remember the sound of the dining room chair hitting the floor, my dad running downstairs and kneeling by her side, calling 911 and stretching the phone cord as far as it would go from the kitchen and she wasn’t responsive, I remember seeing his panic and terror and helplessness, I remember EMTs taking her out of the house, and that’s all I know. What happened, where did I go while they were at the hospital, did no one ever talk about it, what was all that and how come I don’t remember explanations or reassurances or anything else about what was clearly a very scary thing. Anyway, there were a few very shaky days this week and I had to (or got to, depending on how you look at these things) drop everything and take care of tiny me and make safe rooms for her. A breath for life and how deep things go.
5. Oh the rage I feel about men commenting on my eating choices. What is it about a woman buying or consuming food that seems like an invitation for some random stranger to have commentary on it? WUSIT: What Unsovereign Shit Is That. And then also retroactive feelings about my frozen autopilot Placate-Placate-Placate mode, oh sure I will laugh with you about the joke you are making at my expense, because this is the mindset of survival, and you know what, to hell with that. A breath for prowess and not taking crap, and for endless self-forgiveness when I do because triggered response patterns are ingrained and old and have reasons for having come into existence.
6. Not only did Plans A, B and C for living at the coast fall through, but so did all the back-up plans, including the one I didn’t want. Even the last-ditch hail mary of fine we will just throw all of our money at this and do the really expensive option didn’t work. Adrianna the Italian heiress just shrugs her graceful shrug and does not worry and moves on, but I, while not worried, feel some sadness about this. All my friends keep saying some form of “why are you fighting this, why do you keep trying to make it work when it’s obviously not working, why try to send water uphill instead of letting it float downhill”, and sure, they’re right. I think I want to be in this small coastal town, and everything about being here is saying no to me. But there just aren’t any other options I like yet, any places I want to be, and I can’t be in Portland because Portland is not good for me, and I know there will be a marvelous answer but I want it to just show up already. A breath for me and for my wish and for trust more.
7. The extreme sound sensitivity that pms brings where every not-good sound is amplified and magnified and makes me want to set the world on fire, combined with the fact that the beautiful faraway cowboy came to visit me for three nights and the only available hotel room at the coast is directly across from a business with loudly beeping backing-up trucks that beep and back up at all hours. A breath for escaping to the wilderness, or at least for the wish of that.
8. Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. May peacefulness prevail. Trust-more love-more release-more receive-more. Goodbye (and thank you), mysteries and hard moments of this week.

8 breaths for the good, reassuring, delight-filled.

1. The morning when the woman collapsed in the street: I was following protocol because Adrianna was delivering instructions. She insisted I have brunch, even though I’m not much of a brunch person, she chose a place I’d never been and didn’t let me walk the route I would normally automatically take to get there. She told me when to leave the house (“now!”) and when to pause and smell roses, literally, and for how long. She even made me smell one twice. And so it happened I was walking down this exact block on a small side street, exactly at the moment this woman’s friend was shouting for someone to call 911 and exactly as a jogger was stopping but didn’t have a phone, and so I dialed and handed my phone to the jogger, and then we waited for the ambulance. I also mysteriously had smelling salts, water and a handkerchief, which came in handy after it arrived. The woman was fine, her scared friend was fine, the EMTs were warm and caring and arrived very quickly. I got to be one of the angels in the constellation, right place right time, and because I listened. A breath!
2. Last week’s chrysalis is still yielding intense results. I have Adrianna’s powers of I Have Forgotten How To Worry, which might even have been her power that I wanted most. Things are clear and simple because Adrianna doesn’t experience worrisome things as worrisome, and now I can feel things the way she does. A breath of gratitude.
3. Writing writing writing and it is so good. This year’s YEARbook ebooks are going to be the best of all time. Between Adrianna’s wisdom and my river-to-ocean muse, things are just sparking and glowing all over the place, and I can’t wait to deliver them. A breath for this.
4. Mmmm did I mention that the beautiful faraway cowboy cut short a two week motorcycle trip and came to see me for three days and three nights? A breath for Sweetness and for Love and for sitting across the table from him at the cafe dancing in my seat to Huey Lewis and the News and we can’t stop smiling and how can anyone feel this glowingly content, like the cat with all the cream, is it even legal, and the amazing part of being Adrianna is that she/I can just experience the joy of this and the deep gratitude of savoring this moment right now, and let all the rest of it go, like the part about how tomorrow it is gone. And as I wrote that he kissed my neck three times in a row and whispered “that is all I have to say to you” and kissed me again.
5. An hour and a half in the float tank, letting it all go. A breath for deep peacefulness.
6. A two hours dance lesson with my teacher who came to the coast for the day, after we hadn’t played together in a month. I didn’t know if there would be much improvement, as most of my practice has been crying on the floor or posture-related, but it turns out that integrating Adrianna and her panther prowess has made all the difference in the world. Jen said, “This is the first time I haven’t needed to tell you to relax, this is the first time I haven’t seen you panic when you miss something, you are dancing like a queen, totally in command of your groundedness and your reactions, it’s incredible.” Also I got over my dislike of the mirrors, so there’s that, and it’s big. A breath of big joy for dance training, and the unexpected non-linear ways that progress happens.
7. I have been training and practicing in I AM A SPECIAL OCCASION, and there are so many unexpected wonderful results to this. The main thing I’m noticing is that I’m able to let go of decades of resentment over [various experiences of perceiving that I’m not appreciated] because I am taking so much time to celebrate myself. I don’t really know how to describe this because (monsters say) it sounds so cheesy. But there it is. A breath, as we did last week, of jubilation for the transgressive work of self-treasuring as a path to freedom! And also for no reason at all because self-treasuring is its own reward.
8. Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of two of the best meals of my life, surprise good fortune, lovely people to keep me company when the bus was hours late. Everything is okay and so much is good. Nothing is wrong, even when I want to believe it is. Now is not then. All Timing Is Right Timing. Thank you for this grand adventure. A full breath of deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.

Superpowers I had this week…

Last week I asked for the powers of wild magic, freedom in all things, and what if there is enough and more of everything I need. What beautiful wishes, and all received.

I also had the powers of brave-right-now, and Love More Trust More.

Powers I want.

More of the same please and also the powers of opening the doors that need opening and closing the ones that need closing, and being unhesitatingly clear about which is which.

The Salve of Letting Doors Be Magic.

This salve is an allowing salve. You don’t have to work for it, you don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to choose which doors or whether to open or shut, you just let them do what they are wanting to do anyway, and rejoice over each opening and each closing. And if there is just a knocking, the kind you feel potentially hopeful about because you think this might be something you invited, you trust your own ability to sleep on it and feel things out, no hurry and no agitation, all will be revealed in right timing.

Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!

This week’s album is from a mysterious road sign, and the band is sort of named after a bottle of wine.

Sparkle Toes and the Boom Boom

Their latest album is Cement Washout, and this band is just one guy.

Announcement time….

The fantastic monster manual is still available in the place that used to be the the shop, and it is enormously useful if you would like to practice being Way Less Impressed with the horrible things that internal critical voices say!

How was your week?

Come play in the comments. Share something from your week, take a breath, or just say hi! No rules, my format doesn’t have to be yours, we’ve been doing this every week for years now and there still isn’t a right way.

Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We lovingly refrain from giving advice.

And of course it’s always okay to comment under a made-up name, whether for play and delight, or in the interest of Safety First.

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — jump in whenever you like. Blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers too!

this is a queen

let us not stop taking breaths of awe and wonder
admiration and appreciation
for Iesha Evans
who schooled the entire world in what it means to stand
in sovereignty, grace and power

what it means
to stand, period
literal physical stance
as well as
to stand in your own power
to stand up to (distortions of and abuse of external) power
and to stand for rightness:
queenliness embodied
embodiment embodied

these are the qualities

awe wonder admiration appreciation respect, yes,
when people reveal their light, glow their beacon at full glow
we pause everything and breathe for this

I almost didn’t write about this

because this is a person
who deserves above all sanctuary, quiet, safety,
not only from prison cells and men with guns but also from
the white gaze, the analytical gaze, being turned into
someone else’s story or symbol
it’s how the world is
but that doesn’t make it okay

this is a person, who is already experiencing, in addition to
wrongful arrest and standing down armed combatants,
other complicated things:
lit up by spotlights she didn’t ask for on the one hand while
simultaneously
erased in the same moment
as the focus turns to the white-and-male person who saw her,
who “captured” something, what a telling word, with his iconic photo
and his story/perspective/experience
and this is how it always goes because this is the nature of
the rigged game

so my heart is conflicted

I want to glow endless safety for her
to allow her the space I would want for myself
away from the noise

and also we have that very rare thing which is a real person
modeling sovereignty and true power in a real situation,
applying silence, intention and presence
in the kind of scary dangerous moment that would make most of us want to
crumple and contract and surrender our strength
instead of radiating with the power of our own internal authority
(which is stronger than external authority
regardless of consequences
but the human condition/illusion is such that
remembering this even exists as an option
is almost impossible to remember
and painful to think about)

no one shows us what this looks like

and here she is
in her steady queenly grace, her certainty and her power

so we need to talk about power and prowess
because that was already my wish this week
and because she is a beacon
and we need more beacons so that we can
bring more light into all the dark corners

what is power really

our culture tells so many lies about power and what it is
and why so many people want it and why they do terrible things for it
but it is all distortions and lies
and I have been thinking for years about how to explain this
(though etgar keret once wrote a story that explains part of it)
and now I don’t have to explain
because we have this unforgettable image of Iesha Evans living it

power is not the person who holds the weapons
it is not even the person who makes the decisions, who calls the shots
literal or figurative shots
shots
are a big deal
but that is not power and not worth elevating

power is presence and intention and stateliness
and standing in your steady grace, knowing what is true for you
knowing what is right
glowing your power

a detour of campsites / leave no trace

I want to tell you what is important to me about this,
what we can see and learn about real power, real prowess and presence
from this photograph that shows a moment
but first I have to share a technique or an approach,
a state of mind,
to ensure we do this in a way that causes no harm

you know those signs at campsites about how to be at a campsite?
in hebrew there is this verb lehafkir, and it means, hmmm, to discard, maybe,
I don’t know if there is an english equivalent to what I want to say
but when you are in the field
it absolutely unacceptable to do this, to leave anything behind,
not a mark on the space
this is instilled in the culture, and
people who hike and camp absolutely live this
you respect the campsite by leaving it pristine
leave no trace
I don’t know if I am explaining this well
let me try a different angle

sensitive

I am a Highly Sensitive Person
as well as sensory-defensive, which is not the same thing
(a limited but functional explanation looks at personality trait versus condition)
as well as super witchy, which is not the same thing
and clairaudient, which is not the same thing
and have PTSD, which is not the same thing,
and oh probably also on the autism/unicorn spectrum
which is also not the same thing
and a flavor of selective mute (tagline: I’m Very Selective) which is its own
world unto itself and
don’t look it up because the wikipedia page fills me with fury and rage,

and anyway
none of these words come close to being my preferred terminology
for how I want to self-define
they are extremely limiting and ignore the most important aspects
of what they are trying to describe
but those are the words that currently exist in the world which attempt
to convey who and how I am in it
and some of the challenges involved

but first we acknowledge magic beans

let us pause here to breathe for the
enormous amount of magic beans of privilege and good fortune
that I possess which allow me to be in the world with all of this
and not be locked up

magic beans of whiteness and class
highly educated and able-bodied
I easily present in a way that matches the gender I was given as a baby,
Thin-ness and Conventionally Attractive do a lot more than is generally acknowledged
not to mention other gifts of both nature-and-nurture

all these things combined with a
generous helping of good luck/timing
have allowed and continue to allow me to
live my life with relative ease
even when it’s not always that fun to experience the world as I do

just for example

I can pretend to be an Italian heiress
and people will choose to think I’m delightfully eccentric instead of
diagnosing me with multiple personality disorder
this is of course in part the work I have done to know-and-trust the
workings of my mind, to cultivate a
conscious and loving relationship with my internal world/s
all the work of self-fluency
but mainly, let’s be honest, it’s the magic beans of being white
combined with other useful things that influence positive bias like being tall
not to mention elegantly dressed
all this works to keep me out of trouble,
though, I mean, of course elegantly dressed,
I am after all an Italian heiress

I’m not saying there aren’t obstacles, just that they get smoothed more easily

so even though yes, many people do assume upon meeting me
that I am impaired, broken, perhaps not very bright,
unable to function in the world
and who knows, maybe they are right about that last one

and even though sometimes they decide I am someone
who needs to be spoken to
VERY SLOWLY AND AT TOP VOLUME
or maybe I don’t get spoken to at all
or treated like a child,
even with all that, and with how draining it can be, I am generally able to convey
— if I desire to, if I can be bothered to put the time and effort into it —
that I am a highly intelligent, capable, successful adult human
and this works thanks to these many magic beans

gratitude for this good fortune along with
acknowledgment that magic beans are inherently unfair,
privilege is the rigged game in action
may we always bring out attention to the rigging
with clear seeing

back to the original detour!

years ago back when I was a Talker in the world of Talkers
when I didn’t know I could opt out — at least to some extent
from being in a state of constantly overwhelmed by input

back then I always knew
when X was about to call
because it would be announced in advance
like a mysterious telegraph system that existed between us
that I’d never (knowingly) agreed to

a painful piercing sensation in my right temple
slightly cold and very red
giving the impression that it wanted to drill inward
arriving thirty to ninety seconds before the ringing of the phone
it took me many years to realize this was
the sensory experience of this person actively thinking about me
and trying to be in my head and guess what I was thinking
not knowing of course that this was
how I experience it

I have established better boundaries and made different choices

both with X, and in
all areas of my life
so this happens more rarely
but I know that if I send an email out to the list
or write a post that results in people thinking that
they wish they were me instead of reading it and
wishing to be as in tune with themselves / their selves
as I am with myself and my selves
then there it is, the painful unwelcome signal in my right temple
that announces:
[someone is knocking at the doors of your space]
and I have to use every technique I know
to get everyone out
and sometimes I whisper inside my head that campsite phrase

lo mafkirim zevel b’shetach!

which means there is to be no discarding of junk in the field!
there can be no discarding of energy in my field
no one gets to be in my space but me
out out out out it’s closing time

hesitance

hmmmm I feel very hesitant to share this online
and maybe this is why I didn’t press publish last week
and I have two fears here:

first there is the fear that a skeptical person with
good heart but a disinclination to just trust me on this one
will try to test it out for themselves as an experiment to see if I get
splitting headaches all week
and I’ll have to shut this place down
or I’ll just deal with the headaches the way I always do

and then there is the fear that
people who should not have this information will
use it to ill effect, I mean, good god,
did you see what people did to Leslie Jones this week
have you seen the internet? how people are online?
and honestly while it will be bad for me if the
Dementors come for me, it will be so much worse for the people who sent them

however I am sharing it

with as much trust as I can muster
because
if we are going to think about Iesha Evans and be
inspired by her — as everyone should,
we need to do this without violating the sanctity of her space
without trying to be in her head or heart
we need to figure out how we can follow the trail of her light
while staying in the bubble of our own glow
yes?

we need to turn on/up our own lights without trying to be in hers
this is important because it is respectful
and it is also important because
we cannot make the mistake of thinking
that some people, other people, are the magical unicorns
and that we don’t have our own power and our own radiance
(we do!)

beacons exist to light a way
not to be the way

does that make sense?
we need to train ourselves to not try to think-feel what they are
but to think-feel what we are
to hear what is inside us
hear the melody

hear the melody

that is the best and possibly only
instruction for life

this is what I mean about campsites

if we want to visit the campsite of the world of Iesha Evans
we steer clear of her sanctuary
we respect her headspace by not trying to guess what it is like there
and we do not deposit any of our energy in the campsite
while admiring her and using her as a model for
sovereignty, agency, queenliness and her pure channeling of
the superpowers of Unapologetically Standing In Truth,
Radiating Power,
Regal As Fuck
prowess

dance

I am dancer who dances in order to
creatively self express through the art of
filling space and time with movement,
and I dance because it is obsession,
an expensive and humbling addiction
but mainly I dance because I desire to become
my panther self, to return to pantherdom

in order to get closer to dance, I study lots of things that are not
directly related to dance
and I took a weekend training with Esther Gokhale
who thinks about primal posture and how we have lost it
everyone said why they were there
(back pain, back pain, back pain, back pain)
but I said I was there to become a panther
she knew what I meant

I said I was there because I deal with street harassment
all day every day
and I want to convey with my body that I am
not to be fucked with
I am to be respected and given space
and she knew what I meant

dance

we studied pantherdom, embodied grace, standing in power
for an entire weekend
and every single thing we learned and practiced
is what Iesha Evans is doing in this photo
crown on
the world didn’t know about her yet
or we would have studied this photo too

she has prowess in every way
in every molecule of her being
it glows
in the conviction of knowing she is right
and it glows through stance
serene, effortlessly grounded, in her full power
this is what panthers know how to do
and they/we don’t stop knowing it
even if people are rash enough to handcuff them
because real power — source power — just is
standing in this
radiating strength
from the earth / of the earth / with the earth

what do I know about my wishes?

I am wishing wishes about sovereignty, grace and powerful presence
wishes about embodying
standing in truth, for truth, with truth, for the sake of truth
being extremely vulnerable
through choice
both because it’s right and because
there are moments when letting others have their weapons disarms them
(let that not be read as a stand against gun control)
(because it isn’t)

my wishes are about being and becoming
deep trust, letting go, being slow, deliberate, intentional
advocating for what is right
standing for what is right
in every aspect of our lives, in these challenging scary times
and also literally in how we stand
changing stance
to stand differently
and I mean this so completely beyond the physical
though also through the physical
as one possible door
so really these are also wishes about the
right doors opening
and reclaiming space and sanctuary
glowing powerfully from within

now

I am wearing a crimson beanbag cushion as my crown
going through a tunnel
on a bus that is two and a half hours late but I don’t believe in late, I only believe in figuring out why this is secretly fantastic good fortune
feeling thankful that last night me bought a very delicious sandwich for me
and wrapped it with love (and with a cloth napkin) and put it in my bag
even though she knows I never eat on the bus
but she said hmmm just in case I want you to have this please
and I am grateful

the superpower of hearing the melody

July is the month of HARMONY, with the superpower of hearing the melody

and as I said, this is really the answer to everything, maybe even all I need

thank you, past-me, for being such a good namer and calling this into being

last week’s wishes

last-week-me wished a wish called nothing to be decided, everything to be received …

and this is exactly what I have learned to do, not only because it is more harmonious but because it is correct

invitation: come play with me…

you are invited to share many !!!!!! about what is here,
or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading, including any stories you wish to let go of, any adventures you wish to welcome

deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, intel, possibly in code

safe space for creative exploration asks us to let go of care-taking and advice-giving

wishes are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing

here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: oh, wow what beautiful wishes

♡