I shared a love story the other day about red lights. And about loving them. Red lights as a form of pause and pleasure. As a door into presence. Presence that comes from deliberate, intentional stopping, and an adoring commitment to sweet slowness. Slow and more slowness. Watching a cup of water fill, slowly, over [...]

One of the things we do at Rally (Rally!) is this:

We dream up superpowers.

Nothing fancy. Just whatever pops into your head in a given moment.

Some are fun. Some are silly. Some are weighted, some have capes, some are bashful, some come with provisos and caveats, some live in snow globes, some are lighter than air.

I have been collecting some of these superpowers and found that they wanted to be proclaimed. In fact, they wanted to be together. Like a kind of poem.*

So here we are.

Here’s what I know. If I’m experiencing tension, anxiety, anger …

That’s a pretty good sign that the me who is currently at the front of the V is a) unhappy and b) young.

Sometimes it’s bartender me (who is good in a fight but not so good when I’m trying to avoid getting in a fight). She takes stuff personally. She’s up for anything. And she’s unpredictable.

Again, it makes her fun at parties. Not so much in airports.

From the jump to the path.

When I moved back to Israel, it scared me to pieces.

I was telling a friend and he said, “It’s like throwing yourself into a black hole, right?”

Exactly. That was exactly what it was like.

“Here’s the thing nobody tells you,” he said. “There is no black hole. You go from living your life here to living your life there. It’s just you and your life, with slight variations. No holes.”

He was right. I’ve moved countries twice since then and there was no black hole.

What there is instead is this big Continuum of You (ooh, fake band name!), and wherever you are on it is a part of you. You can contain different cultural and emotional identities at the same time.

That’s because you’re not constantly hurling yourself into space or off of cliffs.

You’re just going for a walk, and around this next bend is a new piece of terrain. But it’s not really all that different from what you already know.

At night we went to sit outside with our neighbors to watch the neighborhood display. It was a little chaotic, but I was fine.

Some of the smaller kids were crying, and I remember saying semi-jokingly that we needed a designated hugger.

It was fine. But then there was a shrieking whistle and an explosion right above me.

And I was running panicked to the house.

What am I afraid of . . . ?

• I am afraid of having to leave Hoppy House.
• I am afraid of getting burnt out in my work and that my arms won’t start working again and that everyone will say “I told you so”.
• I am afraid that my tired, overworked gentleman friend — who already is burnt out — will have to quit his job before my business can fully support us all comfortably.
• I am afraid that I might never get over the death of my friend and the pain that goes with it.
• I am afraid that I will one day get over the death of my friend. That I will forget.
• I am afraid that the next time I go to Berlin I will just stay there and not come back.
• I am afraid of the possibility that I might never heal.
• I’m afraid of remembering things that are repressed and forgotten for a reason.
• I am afraid of the part of me who craves new experiences and I’m afraid of the part of me who craves safety and comfort.
• I am afraid of turning into my parents.
• I am afraid that if I talk candidly about my fear on the blog, some kind, well-meaning people will try to fix it or solve it for me and then I will feel annoyed and resentful. Not that that’s ever happened before.

Let’s pretend that you have to have an awkward, uncomfortable conversation or confrontation or something else that begins with “con” coming up.

And I’ll just go ahead and assume that you’re totally not looking forward to it.

Anyway, even if that’s not what’s going on for you right now, it will be the case at some point, because relationships between people? Sometimes hard and messy.

Just play along with me.

If you’ve ever found yourself in a meltdown moment, you know how annoying it is when someone says, “Breathe”.

Because when you’re freaking the heck out, other people’s advice usually seems stupid and irrelevant — just in general, and then all the more so in your specific semi-hellish situation.

When the thing you really think you need is either a tranquilizer or more chairs to throw at the wall, the idea of taking a deep breath is just not all that appealing. The value isn’t obvious.

And in the “people ask the most interesting things that I’m not always qualified to answer” department:

Today’s Ask Havi edition is locality-specific …

But rest assured that if you’re a smart cookie, and I know you are, you can figure out how to apply today’s answer to something else.

Because anxiety sucks. That’s why we need coping tactics. Some woman contacted me this week kinda randomly because she was hoping I could give her some techniques to help her deal with anxiety. Which always makes me wish you could hug people over the internet. Because I’d totally do it. And because: ohhhhhhhh. Anxiety = [...]