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

♡