What we do here:

Work on our stuff. Dissolve stuck. Play. Experiment. Rewrite patterns. We take sometimes-heavy things* and we make them more fun, playful, manageable.

I also write about my conversations with walls and monsters, and what it's like to work on a pirate ship. Good times.

* Sometimes-heavy things include: mindfulness and presence, pain and trauma, business-growing, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity


let’s channel something new here

very personal ads

I write a Very Personal Ad (or a vision of possibility & anticipation) each week to practice wanting, listening, getting clear on my desires

the point isn’t getting my wish (though cool things have emerged from wishing), it’s learning about my relationship with wanting, accessing the qualities

wanting can be hard, it is easy to feel conflicted about it, and the reasons for that make this a surprisingly subversive practice…

this is the 367th week of wishing, come play!


sometimes I sit down to write a wish post
or anything asking to be written
and I suddenly know exactly why I have been doing
because being a conduit for my truth in this moment is intense
sometimes acutely uncomfortable
to channel these words and let them land
it asks us to enter into a state of awe

(1) Awe: in the presence of something mesmerizing in its magnificence
(2) Awe: you don’t want to look towards it and you can’t look away

yes it is tingly, powerful, beautiful
and sometimes I don’t want to be in it
truth is disruptive

but hey here we are

and the truth-words are asking to flow through me, no, glow through me
so let’s hear them clean and clear,
not in rant-form, this is a place of sanctuary,
not hiding, not apologizing, not placating, just what needs to be said
as it needs to be said
come in, truth-words, come in peace, come in as a ray of light
not a lightning strike
let me be the copper vase and the candle inside it
the container that holds the light and also the shimmering reflection

hahaha and I literally wrote the above, and was like, okay, I wrote it, an invocation, isn’t that enough, now I can just skip the rest, press publish, close the computer and disappear, right? no, my love, we are going to write the words that are next, we are going to breathe and be brave, trusting in All Is Well

into shit

bryan, a favorite yoga person, says, about yoga,
“people bring their shit to yoga and turn yoga into shit”

what does this mean

yoga is for quieting, breathing, turning inwards,
listening, reflecting,
letting go of things that need letting go
which leads us to relinquish false stories or beliefs
to undo the rigging of the rigged game
and do less and choose ease and pause more
glow more light, meet ourselves with love and presence
which changes how we are in the world
and oh these are sweet and important things
and if you have ever fallen in love with yoga
this is probably why

because you were falling in love with yourself
which is a luscious transformative experience
and yoga was a door

but what actually happens, more often,

is that we — as individuals, of course, but really I mean this more
collectively as a culture,
we have brought our
comparison, competitiveness, monster stories
about not-good-enough and not-this-enough or that-enough
our never enough

and instead of letting the love-and-grace of [yoga]
transform our internal culture
we let these distortions in our broader culture transform yoga

and this is why yoga is full of shit

and if you haven’t fallen in love with yoga,
nothing is wrong with you, you probably just got the kind that
had already been turned into shit
so good for you for being discerning

what do you mean, full of shit

I mean, oh, just for example,
magazines about yoga that sell things
so that we can “do” yoga “better”
articles about how to get your leg behind your head
which is meaningless
classes on yoga for weight loss
which is worse than meaningless because not only is it meaningless
but also oppressive
judgment and exclusion and one right way and an end-goal
of looking or being a certain way
are not yoga

we have made a yoga of buy this thing, wear these clothes, look this way

and be in this exact alignment like this other person
curvy yoga had to come into existence because “regular” yoga
has been so horrifyingly unwelcoming to
people with bodies other than long-and-lean
that we had to invent new classes just to make safety
for people to be how they are, as they are
and do you see, being as we are was the original point
which has been lost
that was the point
to be so at home, so at peace in our body-minds,
in ourselves and our selves
that we can let go of all the shit

we have made a yoga of I’ll Be Happy When

when I can touch my toes
when I can reach X or accomplish Y
instead of a yoga of here I am right now in this moment
breathing presence

there is no one right way

and yet we we have constructed a yoga where it
is the norm that people
surrender sovereignty and agency
and look to experts to tell us what is correct
instead of feeling what is right for us
in our own bodies
where we live
in this moment right now

this is why I stopped teaching yoga

and also because I don’t believe yoga can be taught
or that it should be taught

being curious about the bodies we live in
how they move, what they desire, what supports them
in rest and recovery,
how to take exquisite care of ourselves
this curiosity and exploration is our heritage,
it is already ours,
so no one gets to teach us “how” to do yoga
at most they can just remind us that we are yoga
through living and breathing yogic qualities

like love, presence, self-inquiry, radical self-acceptance, mmmm good stuff

anyway, I can say more about all that, some other time
but the point is that I shifted my business to self-fluency
because that to me was the quiet essence of yoga
without all the shit
the wisdom without the distractions and distortions

eleven years

for eleven years I have been running a business (this one) that
secretly teaches what I think of as yoga
the turning inward and getting curious and listening
trusting our own wise knowing

but what I have learned is that this problem
with yoga exists not just in yoga but in everything
we bring our shit to everything and turn everything into shit
including to self-fluency which is the thing that
shows us how to turn inward and trust our wise knowing
how to meet ourselves with love even while we are
(turning things into shit)
and not be impressed about how there we go doing it again
because this moment is useful
and Nothing Is Wrong

the self has disappeared

I have watched the same thing happen in this field as in yoga
I have watched the special world
of [turning inward and learning about ourselves]
become distorted through the culture of experts

which is maybe another way of saying that we have
brought our shit to [self-help, self-work, self-discovery]
and turned it into shit

we have taken the self out of it

we have made it not about our own process
but about the people who write and teach their way of how to process
and we have done this by putting people on pedestals
or agreeing to stand on pedestals ourselves

the culture of expertise is toxic

the culture of experts encourages people to
surrender their agency
(which so many of us are so quick to do anyway
because the game is rigged and that’s the programming)
and all the magic of self-exploration gets lost, and we end up
with a cult of expertise
admiring the experts and wanting to be like them
instead of wanting to be like ourselves
and bring in more of ourselves (and our selves)
the culture of experts is problematic and sometimes downright creepy, and I
refuse to take part in it

so I stopped teaching in all forms

I stopped offering “coaching” which is a word I never liked
though I still do sessions here and there with a few people
but one of the prerequisites is that they have already arrived at the
delicious point where they don’t care what I think
they know my opinion doesn’t matter
that I am not wiser than they are and I do not hold their answers
we are equals and we play as equals

which is marvelous but there aren’t a lot of people who can do this
because the toxic culture of expertise
is so fucking pervasive

then I stopped answering questions

and for a while I just answered all questions with Flalaleelalooola
which is a word I invented which means any or all of the following

(1) that is not actually a question for me at all because it’s for you
(2) I don’t know, sweetie
(3) your question contains its own answer and/or you will
get more benefit from processing it on your own than you will from
any response I could give you
(4) I love you and have complete trust in your wisdom and
your ability to find your answer

then I stopped altogether

I even stopped speaking
which makes it even more futile to ask me questions
because I just smile and fill up on love-more-trust-more

and eventually big magic started happening
in the form of everyone suddenly realizing
that they didn’t need me or my answers or even my non-answers!
they were able to trust their ability to listen for their own answers
it was beautiful
it is beautiful

so here we are

what I do now is cultivate the most supportive culture possible for people to
do their own inspiring internal exploring
I don’t want to encourage anyone to try and be like me,
but for us to all feel safe and supported figuring out our own magic
and how it works

away from this world of expertise, which, just like in yoga
is arbitrary and self-proclaimed and kind of boring

there are only two challenges

except we know from this weekly practice of wishes
that challenges are just questions
and that asking questions with love
(skipping them like stones)
invariably reveals wild treasure

one question is about legacy and form
right now I am calling this question “what about the museum!”
which is another exploration for another time (soon)
and the other question is about
how we develop a culture in which we are all experts in ourselves
or really, in the beautiful ongoing life process of
becoming experts in ourselves
our internal kingdoms, who-and-how we are in the world
so that we can remember that we don’t need the external experts
we can turn inward and play
we can turn outward and play
because we trust what we know
and we know how to get back to what we know


stone skipping is the practice of
turning inward and asking ourselves questions
and accessing our deep quiet knowing
the things we didn’t know that we know

stones change everything because they subvert the paradigm that has
turned self-discovery into shit

when we skip questions like stones into our
internal rivers of knowing
we are forced to let go of this idea that there are other people
who are the real experts
we have to stop thinking they might have our answers
because it is so clear that our own clarity is everything
we stop surrendering our crowns
and we go inside where all the good stuff is
we re-remember how to listen to what we know

what is a course that is not a course

I made a course that is not a course
(because I don’t believe in teaching, only in playing, as equals)
more like a course in the sense of winding your way down a path

it is a path of stones
to practice stone skipping
where I will not be the expert
because what is that
but we will skip stones together, turning inward to
discover unimaginably beautiful things
in awe, big wild awe, at the wise knowing that we
uncover in ourselves
without anyone’s help

we begin next wednesday august 3
aka the beginning of the month of muse
and play through september 7
taking us from muse into intention

what do I want?

I am hoping that this course that is not a course will
— in addition to being big wild magic
and glowing treasure and wisdom into the world —
support several of my deepest wishes through
bringing more people into this state of sovereign play
where they can actually
feel how much they know
and reveal how little they need me (or anyone)
so that we are all beacons
for ourselves and each other
all of us seeds of light

what do I know about my wishes?

wishes are seeds of light too
and so wishes about seeds of light
are the best possible wishes

may it be so!

will you come walk this course with us?

you can join to learn marvelous things 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
so that the valuable powerful transformative work of self-fluency
has a real home, both here and in our lives

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!

and here is the version without the deck of cards, if you already have the deck of cards


in the spirit of “clues everywhere”, which is also
one of the themes of the not-a-course,
this morning I wrote in my notebook
[treasure reveals treasure / stars and bridges]
and I just looked up from my seat in the cafe
right across from me is a guy with NASA stickers and stars
all over his laptop
and at the table to his left is Josh
wearing a shirt with a bridge on it
so yet again I am reminded
that there is really nothing to solve here
just to savor this moment and delight in
how sweet and funny things are, if I can stop
making it all so complicated

the superpower of hearing the melody


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

and as I keep remembering, 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 prowess

and this wish is/was treasure, it is bringing me not only more balance and grace (internal and external) but much more calm when I am out of balance and grace, and it is also helping me figure out how I can be a beacon and an activist while also maintaining the quiet I need to function…..

thank you, me who wished

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

chicken of mysterious road signs

Friday chicken

Reflecting on both the hard and the good in the week that was…

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!

Or “checking in”, if you prefer to enunciate.

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.

I name each day the night before and I love how names change things and also how they become incantations.

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

If you feel drawn to comment on aspects of my week, I will take love, hearts, breaths, pebbles — I do not need advice or cheering up, though presence and sweetness are always welcome

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.

These invisible salves are distributed here by way of internet magic. Help yourself! Take it in a bath, as tea, a cocktail, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.

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.

Side effects include feeling delighted about good surprises and calm about everything that has not yet shown itself to be a good surprise.

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

My brother and I make up bands, which are all just one guy. The Meme Beach House is the venue.


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.

Photo taken just for us in Lubbock, TX by Jesse — thank you!

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.

Shabbat shalom.

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!