wish bubbles

all week long I have been reflecting on all the beautiful wishes
(oh wow what beautiful wishes!)
that have been bubbling to the surface in response to last week’s
wish about filling the cups that needs filling
and emptying those which needs emptying

the cups that need filling:
everything that supports me
the cup of Well-Being and Bell-Being
ease, peacefulness, joy, and havi-essence

the cups that need emptying:
stress, overwhelm, getting overloaded by
everyone else’s energy and the internet
and being a highly sensitive person who finds the world
loud and overstimulating,
who finds being in the world exhausting
as if everything around me sloshes into the cup
until there’s metaphorical red wine all over the metaphorical carpets

light

I had a striking epiphany related to this wish
while sharing the most gorgeous and vulnerable waltz with a stranger
something about how waltz, done well, is about flow
trust and flow
and oh wait, I know of other things that have these
flow-and-cleanse empty-and-fill superpowers….

it is LIGHT AND WATER which empty and fill cups
these are what I need more of to be a
clear conduit for source and vitality, life and aliveness
these are what I need to fill up on
and also to allow to flow through me in order to empty
everything in my life that needs emptying

relearning

the funny part is: I already knew this
I knew that light is (for me)
both the question and the answer
and I know this from skipping the stones of
what needs to be eliminated and what needs to be illuminated
also known as what enhances my ability to access my light
and what obstructs?

I need to be near water, soaking in water, walking by the water
this is how I get to my light

elements

these are my elements
immerse in water
then breathe in light be the light glow the light
golden sunlight streaming through me and into the earth
my friend who is gone believed
we are vessels for light
in other words we heal through sparking and glowing

what is simple and also promotes joy

this was the question that came to me this week
the meeting point of simplicity and maximum joyfulness
that’s what I am going for
breathing deep

if I can’t hear the answer to this question
(which happens a lot)
that is a pretty good sign I need to
return to the protocol
of urgent self-care
taking exquisite care of myself until I am able to once again
let myself know what I know

aching

my hips ached this week
you should have seen the terrible faces I made hobbling
down the half flight of stairs at Agent Emdee’s house
I asked Louise-who-is-usually-if-annoyingly-right
and she said aches are longing to be held (yes, that is me)
and hip pain hints at fear of moving forward (okay, that too)
in fact that is a pretty accurate snapshot of what my life looks like
this week

and then a spell that has been a spell for a long time
was suddenly and mysteriously broken
and I am no longer afraid of forward movement
no longer hurt that the person I want to hold me
isn’t able to show up
and then my hips were fine

changing the question

pain is not interesting while it is happening because it hurts too much
but pain is of course very interesting
and mine showed me some things about making peace with what is

for example, the answer to the question
“what is simple and also promotes joy”
might be (for me) dancing or stretching
but if body hurts too much to move, it becomes clear this answer is
equal parts wishful and theoretical

in this moment

the question needs to float back to this moment now
what is simple for me as I am right now in this moment
what will promote joy given where I am in this moment

and even better questions

instead of trying to Make Progress on my projects
sometimes I remember to ask my projects what they want me to know
here is what the basement studio told me with great enthusiasm

1. everything will shift when the curtains are up, and you already measured and ordered and had curtain rods left over from the Playground, so the thing that is most significant for changing the energy is already 90% done
2. relax — it’s all being handled, follow what shifts energy
3. be the wild wonder that you are, instead of trying to check things off
4. this space is holy — like the Playground, it exists to support safety, creativity, sovereignty and transformation, but it is all for you
5. think of this less as a cleaning project and more like rededicating a temple
6. time to get your witchy on, or get your witchy back…

being Z

my project also reminded me to keep talking to Z (incoming me, the zen adventurer)
so I can figure out how Z’s superpowers work, for example…
Z is never overwhelmed because Z trusts life and
Z just follows the next indicated step and doesn’t worry about the big picture because
Z can zoom in and zoom out and
Z believes deeply in There Is Plenty Of Time

Z is unapologetically luscious
with the look of why yes I did just roll out of bed two minutes ago after having obscenely good sex, that is correct

Z is wildly confident, wonderfully tranquil, outrageously beautiful
fiercely independent
a free spirit who finds joy and breathes deep
Z values safety, sanctuary and recovery
and is okay with hiding and crying when that is what is needed
knowing that none of this is in conflict with being a adventurer having adventures
extreme self-care is the default, not the emergency response

whoa a thing I just realized about witchiness

I have been talking with friends about this theme of
being a Woman Who Lives Her Life Alone and On Her Own Terms
and how it doesn’t seem like it would be that big a deal or
all that subversive (but it is!)
because following your yes when it is not aligned with cultural expectations
is work
it just is

and it is eye-opening how many people don’t understand this
or believe your independence is a temporary phase until you are Happy Like Them
I had the thought this week that maybe this
harks back to some ancient archetype
like the witch in the forest
a woman living alone in unconventional space
she has power and she has pull and also she scares us
because she doesn’t need the things everyone says we are supposed to need

heroines, a word I am not sure if I like or not

there are so few models for this too
I remember this from living alone after my divorce
cherishing each moment in my tiny studio in florentin
sustained by knowing there would be no stomach-clenching dread
of key-in-the-door
because no one else had the right to enter my space

who are the heroines of this fierce independence
against the grain
where do we see them
who do I know who lives this

name them

I am thinking of Mildred from Excellent Women by Barbara Pym,
who has moments of delighting in her quiet life alone
but is also conflicted by it because she believes something else is necessary
hmm is that the best example I can think of at the moment
I certainly do not feel inspired by, for example,
the women of Sex And The City, anxious and unhappy with life,
where are the ones who are tough and content and spark wild
there is Miss Fisher of course, who is marvelous,
though it does seem to help to have unlimited funds doesn’t it

anyway, the rigged game ensures that we don’t see
these strong independent solo-life women represented in film or television
I suppose there are many more examples now than when I was growing up
but none of them seem to be happy

there’s a bit of a theme to this actually….

Olivia Pope lives alone but in a very unlikely way (she drinks red wine on her white couch in her all-white outfits and never spills), she’s incapable of feeding herself, and wants to be married in Vermont making jam, and also money is not an issue for her

Alice Vaughn lives alone but is widely acknowledged to have Failed At Life because she was engaged to a conman, and also money is not an issue for her

Annalise Keating lives alone, but mainly because her husband conveniently got murdered and left her all his money, and it should also be noted that she never actually gets to be alone

Kate Beckett, to briefly retreat from shondaland, lives alone but is always at work and then moves in with her boyfriend and his mom for absolutely no reason, and money is not an issue for her

Alex Parrish lives alone but we are led to understand this is mainly because she can’t keep anyone in her life, and somehow, again, money is mysteriously not an issue

boundaries

my wise friend agent emdee said this
about choosing freedom
and how it also means choosing the margins:

“When it becomes harder to pass as part of the culture, we have to have firmer boundaries. A woman, living simply and on her own terms, writing and dancing and being alive? Fuck yeah, that is actually a big deal.”

this strikes me as wonderful and slightly hilarious
that my return to my quiet witchiness is a radical move
poof! back to my roots!

and more about boundaries

this morning I said to a friend that setting boundaries is my cardio
and okay this was a joke but also it really does feel like a workout sometimes
I am noticing what happens when I agree to let people overstep and assume
how I make myself small and compact
the way I try to ignore the tight clenching of my stomach that is my internal no
out of some misguided desire to be “nice” and “good” and not make trouble

what do I know about my wish

this is a diamond of a wish
it includes holding the light and being the light
remembering that the game is rigged in such a way as to keep us from
turning inward to get the intel we already have and need the most
yes it is a radical act to pause and ask questions
to listen and wait

and this is a wish about practicing Crown On
so that I can glow the most beautiful radiant boundaries
effortlessly
so that I can be my most wild self
devoted to freedom
exploring my edges
strong and sure in my own power

and doing all this with great gentleness and patience

because everything about this goes against how we have been raised and trained
everything about this is brave and hard
so we take our time and breathe
and take care of ourselves
hiding when hiding is needed
crying when crying is needed
this is also called presence
and this is also called compassion
and this is also called love

now

I am in ann arbor, michigan and the far-away beautiful boy came here too, and we went to late-late-late-night dinner at the fleetwood diner,
which is a thing I used to do twenty years ago,
and that was surreal and also delicious
I feel oddly at home in the rooms we are renting for the weekend
with the impossibly loud creaky wooden stairs
the taps in the bath where hot is cold and cold is hot and you have to turn them up instead of down to shut them off
the woman who owns the home reminds me so much of my mother
there must be, one assumes, a word in some language somewhere for feeling bewilderingly nostalgic and thoroughly charmed while someone is delivering a fifteen minute explanation of how there are extra blankets in case you get cold, because even though it is the worst it is also the best

the superpower of sexy fearless powerful presence

this month is WILD with its wild door, and sexy fearless powerful presence
thank you, past-me, for being such a good namer and calling this into being

I have been wilding hard, and this is right

last week’s wishes

last-week-me wished a wish called empty the cup / fill the cup …

I don’t think I have ever had a wish here generate
SO MANY NEW WISHES related to it,
so I call this a remarkably successful wish,
because I know so much more than I ever did before about both emptying and filling

and while I did not exactly enjoy
all the boundary-setting opportunities that came up,
I do appreciate that keeping certain cups from overflowing
and other cups filled
requires beautiful radiant boundaries, so I feel thankful

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 407th week in a row we are chickening here together!

What’s been working?

OTAAT! Aka One Thing At A Time.

And focusing on being really present with that one thing. Pausing to breathe. One breath. Next breath. Yes.

Remembering that I can stop worrying about the other things because of how fractal flowers work — whatever I am doing right now is secretly helping all the other projects under the surface, phew!

I might try…

Asking solutions to show themselves to me, and then getting really quiet so that I can notice when that happens. Instead of being like, “oh crap all these problems need me to solve them” and then making the logic computer work overtime, when that isn’t even where the answers need to come from.

Naming the days.

This week was the week of A New Story, and here were the days:

Immerse in good. Find the light. Like a flower. Trust life! I’m the best in my field. To The Treehouse. Doors opening (to let light in).

Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…

Crying: What If You Decide It’s A Car Wash For Your Face!

8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

1. I cried a lot about my mother this week. Amazing what can set this off, the words crewel embroidery, someone wearing narrow stripes (she hated that, it hurt her eyes), a piece of jewelry, a turn of phrase. I do not even know how people who were actually close to their no-longer-alive mothers handle the agonizing week around mother’s day when everyone is talking about mothers. A breath.
2. Three and a half months since the last visit with the faraway beautiful boy, it was going to be one month but [illusory plans are illusory]. He came to town but immediately had to rush off to a high-priority work project for two days because he still has not figured out how to prioritize things like love, wild joy sparks, or sweet transcendent moments of oh wow what is this intense energy thing happening here. Anyway, people vary, and that is something that just is, and sometimes I am able to not have hurt feelings about this. But mainly I just felt aching and vulnerable and raw about all of this, and we made plans for him to swing by on his way through town to steal five minutes together. I was working out and came to meet him in the parking lot, and was so ready to just ENJOY these five minutes of being in the same space and breathing the same air: long slow smiles and long slow almost-kisses. But instead I burst into tears and cried off all my makeup while he handed me napkins from the glove compartment and watched me unravel and kissed my hand, probably since the rest of me was covered in snot and streaky eyeliner. A breath for me.
3. While standing on the toilet and painting the ceiling, stepped backwards and kicked over a can of primer, which flooded the floor and splashed up onto onto every part of the bathroom except the ones that needed paint. The sink, the vanity, the cabinets. I basically live in a rom com. It’s 95% com. But cue all my internal monsters about how I am clumsy and unaware and will never move with grace and I ruin everything and cannot function in the world of things, etc. A breath for meeting myself with love.
4. Accumulated exhaustion does interesting things. In addition to Sobbing in a Subaru (the alternate title of my biopic), there were other moments where I got overloaded and overwhelmed by what seemed like not very much. Being tired makes all the wrong cups full, and then the tiniest addition of stress leads to it all overflowing. A breath for deep rest.
5. A misunderstanding/miscommunication with someone I love. A breath for wanting to be seen, heard, understood, received with love.
6. Not putting agreed-upon-things into a contract turned out to be very expensive this week, and this brought up memories of similar frustrating situations, and then the Big Shame kicked in about how have I not learned this lesson yet. A breath for remembering that this not about how I am terrible at life, this is about the opportunity for Do-Overs and the quality of Sovereignty.
7. Something I hadn’t considered while being temporarily marvelously blasé about the construction project being eight weeks “behind” schedule, is that so is everything else. May was going to be my writing month and instead it is a spilling paint everywhere month, and monsters about this as well. A breath of comfort, and for remembering that There Is Time and Nothing Is Wrong.
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. I had been feeling so down about how my painting project is going to take a hundred million weekends (approximately, according to monster calculations) and will never be done and I am so bad at it and have no friends! And then my former housemate took an entire day off work just to help me paint, and we just cruised through it. Only two and a half walls left! Amazing. A breath for feeling so very loved and supported.
2. The faraway beautiful boy and I ran away for three nights to stay in a tree house and watch the river and drink wine and smile at each other. A breath for how happy I am right now.
3. I am having so many good ideas! A breath of joy.
4. A thing that was impossible to imagine and seemed far off and far away now seems doable. I think I see a glimmer of a way to have a (temporary) good home for me, and maybe something even better down the line. Need to sleep on it, but ideas are brewing. A breath for new beginnings.
5. My monsters who think I’m Failing Spectacularly at passing as a functioning adult had to back down this week when it became clear that actually I am a free spirit having wild adventures, which is what I’ve always wanted, so how about we redefine what it means to be a functioning adult! A breath for new stories, and calling bullshit.
6. Things take as long as they take, and I am okay with that, and this still feels new and exiting. A breath of appreciation and play.
7. Surprise good news. A breath of big wild joy.
8. Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of friends who keep the guest room made up for me just in case, having the just right dress, a dog who decided we should be best friends, big gratitude for small things, sitting on a tree-porch watching the water with a heart full of love. So much treasure. 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 power of appreciating all the good in my life, and I received this!

Powers I want.

The superpower of trusting life.

The Salve of Trusting Life mixed with Big Wild Joy.

This is a salve of pink and purple sunsets, of moving the way a child does (with curiosity and fearlessness and awe), and big buddha belly laughter about the absurd beauty of life.

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

This week’s band comes from experiencing something as being the absolute last straw (now I can’t remember what it was, of course) while being a sloppy typist. The album title is from Chloe and Claire in Australia, who had non-metaphorical pancakes together without me, which is okay because one day I shall join them. Here’s the band!

The Lady Straw

Their latest album is Literal Pancakes, and this band is just one guy.

Announcement time….

More to come soon, but I left the monster manual in the place that used to be the the shop. So if you missed the closing of the shop, there is still something beautiful for you!

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!

balanced

lately I have been spending a great amount of time
balanced on a stepladder
cleaning decades of grime off of walls and ceilings
immersed in — and fascinated by — the process of removing cobwebs
though really, sometimes, often, this feels less like removing
and more like transferring cobwebs from where they currently live
into my hair

I also have white streaks of paint primer in my hair
which I didn’t notice
because my hair streaks white anyway
and also because I am a mess

(but a hot mess, insists the visiting far-away boy with a grin,
and yes, okay, I am quite possibly all interpretations of a hot mess right now)

reflecting

there is an odd-funny thing about cleaning
or maybe not about cleaning, but about
this intense interaction with decades of accumulated dust
it seems as though no matter what you do
the dirt just sort of gets moved around
clearly this is an impossible task
an aegean stables situation
(immortal horses who can shit faster than you can shovel)

it requires immense trust
as you release all this trapped gunk
to believe that it will in fact clear out

fractal

I think a lot about the relationship between internal and external space
pretty much all the time actually
how making a change in one can impact the other
and how this change goes deep
and seeds other marvelous things

a deep knowing of my spaces, inside and out,
I mean, in a sense that’s what self fluency is

flowering

not fearing or avoiding any of the dark, dusty, forgotten
aspects of my internal kingdom
bringing light into the deepest corners
opening windows
breathing in newness

transforming neglected and abandoned spaces
into beautiful safe cozy hideouts
for all the past versions of me
gathering the lost bits and pieces of me
and making sure they have wonderfully safe homes
dedicated to recovery
in which to heal, rest, be appreciated, be known, blossom
safe space with sturdy doors and
[flowers everywhere]
or whatever makes them feel as full-hearted as I feel
when there are flowers everywhere

reflecting

the beautiful faraway boy and I had a misunderstanding
the other morning
and then it was time to go clean walls
so I got to watch this interplay between internal and external space
in real time
fascinating

I watched myself stir up dust in the space around me
I watched myself stir stew in my head

I watched myself unearth ancient-looking clumps of god knows what
I watched myself uncover old forgotten stories from Then
and saw which are the hurting parts of me who think that Now Is Then
even though Now Is Not Then

then

ofri loved me so much
he taped roses to my door in north tel aviv
and wrote me little poem-notes
I was charmed by his quiet, his giant smile
and grey hair even though he was only twenty seven
that still does it for me actually
I am such a sucker for early grey

he loved me he loved me he loved me
and then suddenly, inexplicably, one day he didn’t
and there was some preposterous unlikely explanation
like he wanted to focus on his acting career

I cried for weeks, bewildered,
my mother said: “oh well good riddance — he’s an actor”
comforting was never really her thing
but of course now he has a million kids
and works at some painfully boring job
and posts inspirational quotes on facebook
so yeah, we dodged a bullet somewhere, sure,
and also I slept with his brother
just to be a jerk

and more then

her name was anat and we
held hands every day in the corridors at university
trying to make the walk between classes take as long as possible
I remember everything about her hand
and how it felt to be near her
we went on on a date and another date
and to a concert
and then
she was gone but I don’t know why

and even more then

someone was far away and loved me
and then they loved someone else instead:
a dancer who spoke german and owned six pairs of black boots
that’s all I know about my replacement
and now, two decades later,
I am a dancer who speaks german
and is also fond of boots
(two pairs, also black)
and that is the kind of thing you realize while
brushing away cobwebs
from walls and inside of the cave of lost memories
in your body-mind

layers

there were other memories too
that revealed themselves as I
blew away dust
first with the shop vac left over from
the once-upon-a-time ballroom
then with dustpan and small blue broom
then with my lips

I saw my fear of being misunderstood (and resulting doom)
my fear of remembering and
my fear of being forgotten

memory

I think sometimes, often,
my near perfect memory
is possibly more curse than blessing
or perhaps better to say it sometimes causes me pain
I can call up a moment or situation and re-experience
the entirety of a conversation, word for word,
each detail and gesture and
what everyone was wearing
where the sun was in the sky

then when the other person involved
says we never had this conversation
or that it went an entirely different way
I think they’re lying or gaslighting me
when actually they are just not [blessed/cursed] gifted
with perfect recall of every tiny aspect of every interaction ever

tuition

this mistaken belief I have that
[of course people will remember what we agreed — that’s how memory works!]
came with a six hundred dollars price tag this week
when the electrician installed migraine-inducing fluorescent shop lights
after we had agreed on something else entirely,
which I am probably not going to pay to fix but am still choosing to think of as
tuition for the school of how to be a functional adult,
where I am apparently still double-majoring in
sovereignty studies and
in “no, really, you have to get everything in writing”

color

I had to run away last week
which turned out to be the exact right thing to do
I found myself in the cheeriest kitchen
drinking ginger-something tea from a giant mug
with brand-new friends
the kitchen was painted the most marvelous and striking yellow
(this yellow maybe, or this one)
with crisp white trim

oh man I was falling so hard for this yellow
its unapologetic joy and richness
this yellow is so free-spirited, I thought

I wanted to be this vibrant yellow
the way I once wanted to be red
(this just made me laugh, because of course,
I wanted to be red and I wanted to be read)
I have never wanted to be yellow
but then again I’d never met a yellow like this before
I AM READY TO BE THIS FREE SPIRIT YELLOW

later my new friend said about me
“she is such a free spirit and has such lovely energy”
external space meets internal space
clues everywhere

trust love

anyway back to the basement
I decided to stop revisiting the misunderstanding
and instead to focus on truth
letting truth-wisdom cycle through my mind
another form of cleaning out
instead of just trying to keep explaining in my head what I meant
truth says Trust Love
truth says May All Misunderstandings Dissolve In Love
truth says Shit Is Not About Me
truth says Everyone Has Their Stuff
and we all want to be received and accepted

I saw my stuff and his stuff
but mainly I saw my heart and someone else’s heart
desiring the same thing but in different words
I thought about what it means to want
your free-spirited wild essence
to be met with understanding and love
and what a beautiful vital thing it is to want this
and how vulnerable it can be to want it with someone

so I decided to devote all of my attention towards
making space for things to move
letting dust and memory cycle through
whatever they need to cycle through
to be able to exit

light

so there I was after eight hours of liberating dust-and-memories
from inside my head and from the walls and ceilings

brushing away dirt raises clouds
but/and/also: space can be transformed
light streams in
there is suddenly so much less to clear than before

names

I am a namer who names
and I make spaces
inside me and outside of me
and they want to be named
to reveal their names

right now this little basement practice space
is not a lair and not a hideaway and not a safe house
a favorite person calls it my den
which works in the sense that I am a fox
it is a changing room
a room where things change

empty and fill

I am learning everything I can about incoming me, who goes by Z,
Z devotes all attention and resources to one question:
what would take care of me most right now
Z says USE EVERYTHING YOU KNOW THAT HELPS
Z says empty the cup to fill the cup

Z is the most zen adventurer
and Z knows how to do this
because Z excels at emptying cups and filling cups
emptying the [accumulated stress and micro-aggressions] cup
filling the cup of calm steady peace and joy

Z is a total sex bomb and wears flannel shirts
and likes to sit under the stars

resolved

many things resolved themselves this week
misunderstandings included
while I swept, dusted, painted, napped, sat under stars
I liked that Rachel reached a similar conclusion from plants
while I learned the same thing in a basement full of cobwebs

words

I don’t know exactly where this week’s wishes are headed
but you get a poem
with a wish in it
I am the poet emeritus of hiding wishes in a cracker jack box

what do I know about my wish

this is a wish about Crown On
being clear and intentional about my space
about how I am in my (emotional and physical) space
how I take care of myself there

this is a wish about where I put my attention
and how I can become someone who empties and fills
wholly unimpressed by dust
letting in light
rooting for love

now

on my way to washougal washington
with food, wine, and wild hope

the superpower of sexy fearless powerful presence

this month is WILD with its wild door, and sexy fearless powerful presence
thank you, past-me, for being such a good namer and calling this into being

I have been wilding hard, and this is right

last week’s wishes

last-week-me wished a wish called a new story…

and was immediately given every possible opportunity
to let go of old stories
so that was interesting and challenging and useful
and I am glad

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.

It is a Sunday chicken again because of reasons, though mostly because I am painting (walls, not canvases), and also, of course, because all timing is right timing and we get here when we get here. Hi. It always feels so good to get here.

{a breath for being here when we get here}

Thank you, week!

This is the 406th week in a row we are chickening here together!

What worked this week?

Finding the good. Not neglecting or negating the hard, just noticing the good that I might be missing while in the hard. Saying thank you to the exquisite purple-and-pink sunset. Saying thank you to roses and to my hands and to windows and doors.

Naming what I see and saying I am here.

Next time I might…

Take care of myself first. Like, step zero. Always.

Naming the days.

This week was the week of A New Story, and here were the days:

A new door. The wild door. Zen adventuring. I wonder what adventures we should have today! Back to the protocol. Joyful and illusory. Empty the cup to fill the cup.

Upcoming biopic if it were based on this week…

The Story In My Head Is Probably Wrong But What If It Isn’t. Except I Know From Being Alive That It Probably Is.

8 breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

1. Twenty years ago, living in a very not-good situation in north tel aviv, I had a dream about opening a box of snakes. My troubled roommate had boxes of plastic snakes that filled up the room that I wanted to move into, and in my dream one of these boxes held real snakes. My wise therapist pointed out that there probably isn’t a more apt metaphor for the process of therapy: internal exploration involves uncovering things you are deeply afraid to find. I mean, I think we can choose better metaphors, more helpful ones. I like to think of the healing work we do here in the context of renovating, yes it raises a lot of dust but you open windows and let the light in, and sweep with love and tenderness, and then you have beautiful space for you to inhabit. And of course: Safety First. Anyway, this week was all about that internal renovation process (and, in an interesting parallel, this was also happening in my actual basement where my broom and I were engaged with decades of accumulated grime). And I gotta say, Meirav had a point. Parts of this week were a lot like encountering a box of snakes. And the work of this week was in discovering where my power is, what I can release, what I can befriend. A breath of safety and comfort, of respect for uncovering: how powerful it is, and also how painful.
2. The foot I hurt last week is still unhappy and I am limping. Also when I do not dance, I go into touch deficit, something I forgot about until it is too late. A breath.
3. On the move, and also extremely busy, staying at three different places while working on the basement project, and I somehow never have socks. A breath for ease.
4. Hahahaha a thousand cobwebs in my hair and no working shower. A breath for ingenuity and creative solutions, which fortunately is one of my superpowers.
5. The beautiful faraway boy left in October. We have briefly trysted twice since then, and (illusory plans are illusory), he says he is coming again tomorrow though this promise lives for me in the category of things I will believe when I see. Anyway, I have been holding fast to Trust Love, and also to trusting that time is the great healer, because it is. The process of moving through loss is not linear, sometimes this means sudden comfort and ease, sometimes unbearable waves of missing. I guess my assumption — and also my fear? — has been that my heartache and longing would just fade over time as I get swept away in my life without him. But instead I am experiencing deep anguish, I have never missed anyone even remotely like this, and some days I try to imagine letting him disappear from view and it is absolutely agonizing. My heart hurts in raw vulnerable ways I do not even know how to describe. A breath.
6. Painting is tiresome and it takes forever and I wish so much I had someone to paint with me. A breath for companionship and for new stories.
7. I want to live in a culture where there is no such twisted thing as holidays for the haves instead of the have-nots. Oh, the rigged game. I would like mother’s day to gracefully dissolve, everyone who is thankful for the beautiful blessing of having or being a loving mother can name a day to celebrate and be celebrated. It would make this day not only more meaningful for those who have this, but kinder for everyone else (and easier for us to partake in the celebrations of others). Just like how it is truly a lovely thing to fill up on thankfulness for the treasure of be able to walk, but less so if everyone were to collectively post photos of their legs saying “Happy Walking Day! Being able to walk is the best! Thanks for the most walkable legs in the world!”. I appreciate how some people do take a moment for those people who are heartbroken because they desperately wish they could walk or miss walking every moment of every day, or to respect those people who know from their own experience that legs aren’t necessary for their joy, and also: a moment is not enough. No need to downplay gratitude, it’s just that the collective outpouring can be overwhelming and less than welcoming. In the meantime, I am wishing a comfort-filled self-mothering day to everyone who is doing the hard work of learning to care for themselves and their selves. And of course, big love, gratitude and appreciation for all who mother, and your unseen work, may you be whole-heartedly celebrated and wildly appreciated every day of the year because that is how it should be, and on any specific days you like, and may all mothers feel hugely appreciated and empowered to joyfully join in the dismantling of this holiday and all similar holidays, that is my wish, probably an unpopular one so I will just take a breath. A breath for living in a world that does not reflect the kindness I want to see, and a breath for creating spaces of big kindness, in myself and around myself, and a breath for being seen, heard and loved, amen.
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. My wonderful uncle refers to all plans as illusory plans. As in “I have illusory plans to come visit for the weekend” or “the illusory plan is to fly on the 19th”. I gleefully adopted this, and just this week miraculously stopped hating the fact that yes, plans are illusory. More than that. After four decades of near constantly surprise and frustration at how everything seems to take way longer than I think it should, I have somehow mysteriously reached a point of peacefulness with this. Not resignation, not resistance. It’s more like, “yup, there go projects being projects, taking as much time as they take, which seems to be considerably longer than I had been able to imagine, and that’s okay, because there is time and I can work with this, and my illusory plans were in fact illusory which is how things go!” A breath for freedom.
2. On Wednesday I started sleeping again. Not just a little but through the night. A breath for how good this is.
3. The new tenants who rented the house are so very lovely, and I am absolutely overjoyed that the right people and the house found each other. A breath of thankfulness.
4. A thing going “wrong” (illusory plans) led to me meeting a marvelous new friend and now I want her to be my imaginary mom. A breath for rewriting the stories: there was no bad news, I just got beautifully redirected.
5. Yes, I asked for a new story and was given endless opportunities to stop telling the ones I am telling, and this is hard but it is important. I am so completely wrong about so many things, and this is good! A breath of sparklepoints for me, a breath for gathering power.
6. As I mentioned last week, I have been having some trouble adventuring even though I am a grand adventuress. Maybe because I am not away on an adventure like I thought I would be by March or even April? Maybe because some aspects of wandering mode are bringing up hard memories from Then. I asked to meet the part of me who knows how to be a zen adventurer, and it turns out that she is the best, and a serious badass and also extremely devoted to self-care (who knew?), and together we are having fewer meltdowns. A breath of appreciation for play.
7. Went blues dancing after three weeks away from dance, and just melted right into it, feeling so at home in the music and the dance. It was a small dance, and no one let me sit down, and we danced until they turned the music off, dancing in a corner while they swept the floor, dancing dancing dancing. A breath of big wild joy.
8. Thankfulness. Treasure in the form of sitting in a hot pool under the stars, really good soup, unexpected ease. Watching a project come together and marveling over it. Painting a door changes everything! 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 “ready for the wild adventure”, and I received this!

Powers I want.

The powers of appreciating all the good in my life.

The Salve of New Stories.

New stories are new possibilities. This salve is made of sweet release, trust, creativity, receptivity and clear-seeing, but the base is curiosity and peacefulness.

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

This week’s band:

The Attic Island

Their latest album is Only In Overalls, and this band is just one guy.

Announcement time….

More to come soon, but I left the monster manual in the place that used to be the the shop. So if you missed the closing of the shop, there is still something beautiful for you!

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!

passages (i)

I am embarking on a grand adventure
and I don’t quite know what it is yet and that’s okay
and even better than okay
because that’s part of how adventures work
and I am ready to feel joyful and glorious about this adventure
to meet it halfway
striding through the door
ready and willing to ask for what I want from this experience:

Freedom
Shelter
I Choose To Do Less
I Treasure My Space, Inside And Out

and — this is important —
I Remember That Everything That Happens To Me Is Neutral,
So I Release Stories Like It’s My Job

passages (ii)

time for a new story
time to let go of stories that are over and done
or untrue or not in service of the mission
(the mission being: breathe in life and aliveness)
time to reclaim any power still stored in story
time to move through story

“Well, freedom has its price.”
“Then it isn’t freedom, is it?”
— The Catch

how many stories live inside that one small exchange
and which ones do I want for me
what needs to be eliminated
and what needs to be illuminated

passages (iii)

once upon a time many years ago I left my home because of
[circumstances]
and then I was between homes for a period of time
a period that stretched time and stretched me

that was what I told people
between homes
and they believed me
between homes
as if I just hadn’t found the right one yet

memories

you slept on couches of friends until you wore out your welcome
that is one of those phrases you can’t appreciate until you’ve lived it
you know what welcome looks like once it has been worn to threads
and you told too many white lies
because you don’t want them to feel sorry for you
or put them in the position where they might think they have to take you in
when there’s nowhere else to go

then you slept in a place you weren’t supposed to be but had a key
careful to disturb nothing, waking before dawn to disappear
until you got caught
and then you stopped sleeping for a while
well, you stopped sleeping at night

an expert at hiding in plain

there is a whole world of expertise to faking being a regular person
the art of the plausible casual nap in public
you could write a book (but you don’t want to)
about that
the art of passing
how to put every magic bean of privilege you possess
to work at the same time
how to act like you are just an ordinary someone
an ordinary someone can sleep in the park during the day
take a short rest in the sun for a bit after yoga

safety first

a breath of sweetness for past-me: I will build you
safe rooms forever, my love
I have devoted my life to making safe space for you
thank you for holding on
you got me here
you can rest now
you are safe
you are free
safety and freedom: you are allowed to have both

if I imagine that I am a genius about freedom, what do I know?

presence is more important than anything
as important as pleasure, which is pretty damned important
if I stay present with this, I can do anything
and presence will lead to more pleasure
presence brings me back to aliveness, to the ability to delight in life
even (especially) when things are chaotic and unexpected

as long as I am present
with this moment
my breath, my body, my wanting, my desire, my aliveness
I can feel into the next step
I can hear my yes
I am free

if I imagine that I am a genius about safety, what do I know?

now is not then, now is nothing like then
and at the same time I can understand how leaving my home
and embarking on an especially grand adventure
that spans the time between now and the time I meet
my new home-to-be
that safe cozy quiet nest that I have not met yet
but waits for me with love
I understand how this situation could stir up stories from then

and so I remind myself that safety first
is always a valid choice
I want to cherish myself,
choosing things that support my sense of safety is
one more way I meet myself with love

here’s to freedom in various forms

love that is unconditional
a business that is free to innovate and create
shmita, wildness, and the place where minimalism and lusciousness meet

releasing stories
releasing the need to believe the stories I tell myself
this is the freedom to let something be
without weighing it down with judgment and distorted interpretations

here’s to safety in various forms

safety is everything that helps me feel the ground
taking exquisite care of myself
following the protocol with sweetness
I practice forgiving myself for everything —
past-me was focused on survival and
everything she did makes sense
especially given the limited tools, intel, resources and sleep
available to her back then

her intention was to get me through
she did what she thought would work
and look, we made it
so we glow love and peacefulness back through the timeline
retroactive magic

glimmer

wenn du glaubst es geht nicht mehr
kommt von irgendwo ein lichtlein her

or: just when you think you can’t go on,
there comes a small glimmer of light…

this is a reminder for me to look for it,
to focus on being able to see the glimmer of light,
to be that glimmer of light

what is closeness

the beautiful faraway boy who is so far away
and has been so far away for so long
texted me when I was having a rough moment
“holding you close, listening, stroking your hair, writing love on your back…”

this was so lovely, and while I am very aware that
I may not always have someone in my life to say this,
in fact, I often perceive that I have no one to say this,
I can practice being someone who can be this sweet
towards myself and my selves
glowing closeness

step one

as Erin says, Step One Of Doing Anything is calm the fuck down,
sometimes I also think of this step as find the good
also known as clearly that was not my bus because if it were my bus I would be on it

it is now safe for me to want to feel safe,
and to prioritize things, however small,
that contribute to my perception of safe space in a given moment,
whether that’s crossing the street or curling up in a blanket
or sitting with my back to the wall
whatever I need in that moment is good

conversation

me: I go back and forth between “I am such a genius, how am I even getting away with this brilliant plan to live tiny and live quiet, to travel and have adventures, to write all day and have access to panther/gazelle practice space!” VERSUS “uh oh next year I will be forty, living on the road, with an absurdly miniature home as my base, peeing in a jar, where did I go wrong with my life…”
agent spalding: for the record, I think you are tops
me: I mean, I mostly lean towards the first one because it’s a better story, but I guess either way at least it’s not boring
agent spalding: there is a strong part of me that wants to combine elements from both stories, not only because it’s more realistic but also because it’s more interesting — you are, in fact, peeing in a jar, but it’s also sort of brilliant

SOLVED!

it finally dawned on me this week that oh right I am not
wandering as a way to fill the time that I am in between homes
no, I chose to be on this grand adventure
this righting retreat (and writing retreat)
which I am calling The Door/s of X
because it is a retreat and a passage and a voyage
and exactly what I need most in my life right now

and I am choosing it
because it is my yes
and because this is how/where/when I acquire the missing skills that
I will need when my next home-home is ready

new story

as you know I have been waking up in the very early hours with words
and this week the words were NEW STORY

I am allowed to tell new stories
to be a new kind of storyteller
who knows about all the important things

all the important things

releasing stories to the fountain
find the joy / follow the best sparks
say yes to new superpowers
savor this brave wild solo adventure
how do I approach this as a free spirit, an agent of agency, a bell

Echoing and Reverberating, Do Less, Want Everything and Expect Nothing, Big Wild Joy, Intention, Yes To This Moment, Wild and Free, This Moment Is Treasure, I Have Forgotten How To Worry, Trust Love, Keep Swinging

compass

here is my mantra-compass for Door X
to guide me through this process of zen adventuring until
the next mission is revealed

north: DO LESS
northeast: CHOOSE EASE
east: SAVOR A MOMENT
southeast: TRUST LOVE
south: LOVE THE GROUND
southwest: CROWN ON
west: GLOW WILD
northwest: DELIGHT IN LIFE

what do I know about my wish

I have been mistakenly trying to fill the in-between spaces
in my life and calendar and the places that scare me when they are empty
no, I will not do that any more
I will fill MYSELF!
and my desire for [safety + freedom]

I will stop telling a story about how I am in transition
and instead revel in the knowledge that
where I need to be right now is on this adventure
I am in the right place
striding through this door of my own choosing
this door that exists just for me
in this just-right moment in time
excited for what awaits
bon courage

now

I am staying with Agent Emdee
and while walking to the train
I discovered that the sidewalk had a message for me
stamped in the cement

EVEN NOW THE HEART IS FLOWERING A WILD PATIENCE

a clue for the ages
I can’t stop thinking about these words
the combination of Wild + Patience
fills me with both deep calm and powerful longing
maybe nothing more is needed than to let wild patience flower in my heart

the superpower of sexy fearless powerful presence

last month was ROOTS, and that was big treasure, and somehow I had forgotten what I’d seeded for May but here it is and it is just right

this month is WILD with its wild door, and sexy fearless powerful presence
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 crown on / do less…

what a powerful wish
I have been practicing both of these things
noticing how they support each other

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

♡