What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

 

What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

 

The Grace Of

Door of Grace

Grief is agony

I keep learning and relearning this,
and it is hard to say what is is most painful,
the waves-on-top-of-waves of sadness, or
the way I keep sailing directly into the rage storms,
hurting and hurtling,
giving the storm the middle finger and sailing into it anyway,
watching myself, sometimes raw and sometimes numb,
sometimes in awe of this new fearlessness,
and sometimes crumpling,
whispering, always: breathe, breathe
and I do.

Grief is agony

and I am in it.

Grief is agony

I am the ship and also the sea, the tempest, the waves,
the thing that is being shaken and also the shaking,
and then oh shit how do I keep forgetting,
how do I think I’m maybe-almost-fine and then suddenly
that undertow of hurt and anger, I forget and then
there it is again,
sweeping me out to sea.

but also sweeping me out to see
because grief is its own strange form of clarity and vision
and because grief is the place where all you get to do is breathe

Grief is agony

And sometimes I say this out loud,
when I am howling at the sky,
sometimes through the windshield,
and sometimes beneath the trees,
I say HURTING THIS MUCH IS AWFUL, and then I agree with myself
YEAH BABE GOOD POINT YOU ARE RIGHT,
because it’s true, and it’s true even when we forget:

pain is real / pain is legitimate / grief is agony / this is all true if unacknowledged

and just because our culture minimizes pain and
doesn’t make space for the grieving,
hurting is hurting is hurting,
and you passage your way through in whatever way you can

Grief is agony

I don’t know what makes less sense to me,
the way it just keeps fucking hurting,
or that I am still surprised by the pain.

There isn’t really anything to say about this,
other than that it is miserable.

And that I keep being surprised by it,
even as it is essentially unsurprising.

Surprising / Unsurprising

I have some monsters about this too,
on the topic of: come on, you have been alive for forty years,
and not a chill forty years either, we’ve put a lot of miles on this ride,
this is not your first time at
The Loss & Pain Ranch or the Heartbreak Rodeo,
this is not your first encounter with
big, wild, intense disruptive emotion
or the aftermath of feeling this much.

They say, ugh this Grief Is Agony story is so boring and also
a waste, the person you left is not worthy of a single tear,
this situation does not deserve a millisecond of your attention,
this pain has no purpose,
and they are not wrong, but also they are not right.

And so we breathe and breathe and breathe,
the monsters want us to heal up and so do we,
but we will do this in our own way and our own timing,
loving ourselves with fearlessness and a wild heart,
no judgment, no rules, no agenda, no timeline,
just Love More Trust More + Set No Path Never Lose Your Way

North

Heading north I met the saddest broken Montana cowboy,
we had nothing in common
except that he was also on a heart-healing road trip,
and as you know I have a soft spot (or is that a blind spot)
when it comes to cowboys
— yeah okay well anyway back to the story —
he said you don’t understand what heartache is,
and I said oh honey I know heartache,
and he said you don’t know what it’s like
when you can’t see the road through the tears
when you have to pull over until your sight returns,
but I do know, I do know,
my sight has not yet returned
and that’s a country song right there.

Speaking of country music and broken hearts

I am of two moods, two mindsets, when it comes to
the long-gone cowboy, the one who, with my permission, hurt my heart,
these mindsets pull me to them like magnets even as they repel each other,
neither is particularly useful or sustainable but hey here they are:

“But don’t think for a second I’m out to drown your memory /
Baby you ain’t worth the whiskey”

versus

“I’m goin’ home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he’s got one
And he ain’t seen me crazy yet

For someone who doesn’t even listen to country music, I sure know a lot of lyrics

Grief is agony

I have not wanted to write this post about Grace,
because to talk about grace I have to tell you about my grief,
and I really, really don’t want to, but here I am in the grief,
and it is waking up old, other losses that still hurt,
they hurt like fire, hurt like ash, hurt like gone

the playground the ballrooms the orchards my trees my mom, the lost ring, all that is-and-has-been lost, and now this

Amplified

I try to remember that even as pain is a legitimate response to loss,
this intensity of sensation has to do with my pain being
amplified by surrounding pain,
the actual storms, the hurricanes,
the tumultuousness-fear-uncertainty of it all,
meanwhile my beautiful state of Oregon is on fire,
I spent the first ten days of this Month of Grace
wandering the coast in search of breathable air,
and of course there is so much destruction, so much beyond weather,
(nazis, deportations, really no shortage of justifiably panic-inducing things)
and so we who already feel so much
feel it all

remembering this is also a form of Apply Legitimacy, one of the most important practices I know of when it comes to self-fluency and extreme self-care

A story

I am learning how to be my wild (Wild) self,
out in the wilds of the wild wild west,
nestled in a hammock under the stars,
drinking coffee by the fire pit,
writing in the notebook where I only ask one question,
over and over again:

Tell Me About The Wild Life

Then I returned to the city for a day,
and someone told me that my magical ballroom,
the one I loved and lost,
now houses a business called The Wild Unknown.

Honest

I know that future-me will see the humor in this,
she will laugh and laugh and laugh,
and good for her,
but I am going to be agonizingly honest with you and tell you that
I am not even slightly there yet,
I am not ready to look at the flowers growing
in the place where the trees I planted burned.

Another story, a better one, this one is actually funny

I named my notebook Tell Me About The Wild Life,
and then a few hours later I met a
— WAIT FOR IT —
wildlife biologist who said he wanted to
tell me all about the wildlife.

The wild life

I had of course meant that I wanted to know about the Wild life,
the life in which I am most true to my wild heart,
but it was a good reminder
that naming wishes is complex, magical, surprising, unpredictable and
quite often frustratingly hilarious,
just like being alive.

500

Today marks 500 days on the road, and maybe it is time
for this adventure to rename itself.

The Wild life, again

The me who is at home in her Wildness,
she has wild hair and wears long glittering earrings,
she is not afraid to get in a fight,
she follows the call, the pull of what is for her,
and easily lets go of what is done,
and let us breathe gratitude for the month of Courage (August)
because asking for Courage is how I met her.

More wildlife

I saw a tiny squirrel trying to intimidate a crow,
marching behind it and then stretching tall on hind legs,
totally doing the Lurking Scooby Doo Villian maneuver,
the crow turned and glared,
the squirrel ran away as fast as it could, I laughed
and there was the grace of laughter.

Grace

Grief is agony and so I thought I didn’t know about Grace,
that maybe Grief doesn’t have room for (can’t make room for) Grace,
and that maybe I don’t even know enough to learn about grace,
maybe my hurting angry raging heart isn’t ready for grace,
but there it was.

And then grace was everywhere,
even bitter moments suddenly laced with grace,
the grace of those funny sweet small perfect moments of aliveness.

The grace of wisdom and right timing

I saw Allie and she asked how I was and she asked this
like she really wanted to know
so I said REALLY FUCKING HEARTBROKEN AND MISERABLE,
and in her wondrous Allie-way,
she happened to have a copy of the David Whyte piece on Heartbreak in her bag
and she gave it to me, here are some fragments of grace…

“HEARTBREAK is unpreventable; the natural outcome of caring for people and things over which we have no control, of holding in our affections those who inevitably move beyond our line of sight / Heartbreak is inescapable; yet we use the word as if it only occurs when things have gone wrong / Heartbreak has its own way of inhabiting time and its own beautiful and trying patience in coming and going”

The Grace Of All Of It

You could say that the grace was in the clues
and also the grace was in the gift,
and the grace was in her question
and hello to the grace of
my total inability to pretend I was okay in that moment,
which resulted in reading those words with new eyes.

Here’s to the Grace Of

Here’s to the grace of poetry and words,
the grace of loving intention
and the grace of clues.

Here’s to all the grace I have been missing
and the grace inside of the missing

(and, speaking of words, the relationship between
missing-and-lost, missing-and-loss)

Here’s to the Grace of a good soundtrack

The Montana cowboy wound himself up tightly inside of a story
that only existed in his head,
and decided that I must be hiding something from him
and that the something I would be most likely to be hiding
is that I’m a man,
(hey, at least some things are still funny)
and I immediately added the song I’m A Man to my Wild playlist,
mmmm a breath for the grace of soundtracks, the grace of absurdity,
the grace of Bo Diddley.

Not to mention the immense grace in recognizing that some people only exist in my life to be clues
and the thing they are a clue about is that I have a HARD NO to being around their bullshit

What else do I know about Grace

Self-fluency is my saving grace,
the skills I have to navigate these pain-states.

Observing, taking notes for later,
practicing Acknowledgement & Legitimacy
which are secret doors to self-treasuring,
also breathing, and naming what I hear, feel and see,
remembering that recognizing a pattern
is already changing the pattern,
taking exquisite care of myself,
and so on.

What else do I know about Grace

The grace of surprise joy, the grace of replenishing,
the grace of a moment of caring for someone who is in more pain than you,
the grace of caring for your own pain too,
the grace of suddenly a bridge,
the grace of sunrise,
the grace of the reverberation-circle made by the sounding of a bell,
the grace of ritual and repetition,
the grace of slowness and trusting the process,
the grace of set no path never lose your way,
the grace of oh hey there is no longer ash falling from the sky,
the grace of walking the labyrinth,
the grace of temenos (marking space for ritual, marking space with ritual)
yes, the grace of defining external space to protect the internal space,
the grace of finally-rain after months of no rain (!),
the grace of this beautiful door that is a passage,
the grace of breathing into my thank you heart

the grace of / the grace of / the grace of

The grace of superpowers

Each day I name superpowers, and it took me ten days into the month of Grace
to realize that Grace and superpowers are basically the same thing:
something I invoke-and-remember,
name-and-notice,
call-on and call-in,
there for me in my moment of need,
the magic is not only in what is named,
but in my commitment to being the namer who
names what she needs.

Interestingly, this month’s superpower is I Have What I Need,
a superpower of provision and also of
remembering that I am provided for.

p.s. I am in the process putting together a very delicious compilation of superpowers to be the next ebook, can we get very excited about this?!

What do I wish for in the month of Grace

May I reclaim and celebrate my independence,
integrate my wild self,
learn to tie knots
and untie everything else.

I want to walk with prowess and intention, crown on,
to live by Wild Self-Treasuring, and allow for[the grace of fewer needs] to co-exist with [the grace of higher expectations].

I am the fire that I tend to
I am hearth and flame, keeper and admirer,
yes to blazing and yes to steadiness
yes to life

I am the water and the replenishing,
the emptying and the receiving,
yes to flow and yes to knowing that I am a gem and yes to shining,
yes to life

Invitation: Communal wish space! Come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

You can also share how things have been going, check in, or deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, possibly in code.

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

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.

Wishes and checking-in are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!

Courage Is Coming

Door of Courage

Courage Is Coming / Courage Is Here / Courage Restored

At the door to the month of Courage, I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done,
and took an exit in the form of saying a goodbye

This exit has been asking me to be brave enough to take it
for a long time now

I even have a sliver of memory from last-year me,
when she was channeling the names of the months,
there was a moment of hesitation at this one, tears welling up,
she must have known, as I do, that this exit is the only right move,
not to mention the only move left,
but still hoping things wouldn’t come to this,
and that a door of Courage could somehow
lead to other things

But here’s what I know

The door of Courage is a yes to what is truly important

For example…

wild self-treasuring,
integrity,
a commitment to take up more space,
devotion to Pleasure & Freedom,

and the realization that my wild love is reserved for the kind of people who can show up for it with whole self and whole heart, and are worthy, and just because I haven’t met these people yet is no reason to keep pining over a ghost / no point in crying over a dry well, I mean I will cry as much as I want but I can also recognize that the well is no more, and then stop fucking going there to see if there is suddenly water in it for me because there isn’t

Awakening

Anyway, I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done and then immediately
threw up six times
as if my body was saying
“no no no we cannot digest this, what is life without this person’s love”
and I agreed to let the fear leave my body in this form, and
practiced feeling the ground
rolling a ball under the sole of each foot,
awakening to sensation

And then we cried so hard, me and my body,
we cried so hard that we gave ourselves laryngitis,
but that doesn’t make the door of courage any less right,
the tears were in part because it is so very right,
and because I have agreed to feel

Sensation

Then I did another scary thing and wrote an application for a thing I want,
and felt too nervous to press send,
so I had to pause and urgently call in some superpowers

But when I opened my notebook to name the superpowers,
my phone fell out and there was a text from
someone in the category of

[people who are always on the verge of moving to Texas but not actually moving to Texas]

I somehow know three different people in this category,
though actually many more if you substitute other things for Texas

I am not a fan of this category, having spent my entire childhood in it,
but sometimes I hang out in this category too, because it is comfortable and familiar

Fiercely.

Anyway, I told him about the application,
and he said:

“Sweet. I’m so excited for you!
I hope I get to watch you dance once day,
you will look so fiercely flawless!”

Ohmygod yes please to the superpowers of FIERCELY FLAWLESS,
let’s start the list with that,
what a perfect seed…

Calling in the superpowers of Courage Restored!

FIERCELY FLAWLESS
I Am The Cat and the Star Queen
Crown Is On / Magic Is On / I am On
Alert, Awake, Aware
I Am An Aerialist and I Live In The Air
I Am A Panther and I Am Of The Ground
Ease of Releasing / Wu to the Wei (I let stuff happen and it is right)
It’s A Dry Heat
Saved By Boundaries, Again!
This Is So Much Easier Than I Thought It Would Be
Surprise Good News, Surprise Good Everything
Secret Allies On My Side
Immense Self Treasuring
Gloriously Indifferent aka Effortless Not Caring
Taking Time Out (triple meaning!)
Full Queenliness
Fierce & Fearless, Powerful & Striking
THE SEAS PART FOR MY MAGNIFICENCE

What does the month of Courage hold for me…

A long meandering road trip into the Badlands,
with my friend Lady K of The Jewels who loves the road too

And then I don’t know,
that’s part of why it is so courageous
to let myself find out

Out under the stars
training hard
writing and righting
channeling my next adventures

Resolution (double meaning)

My dance teacher gave me the best dance homework ever:
Turn the entire world into a hotel room that you dance around in,
alone in the dark, wild and free, and do this until
EVERYONE THINKS YOU HAVE LOST YOUR MIND

Yes, let’s do that,
this is also a good resolution for the month of Courage,
and a next step

Who am I when Courage is restored?

Let’s find out

What is my wish for this month.

May we all find resources of courage, strength, power and certainty,
so much more than we knew possible,
may we love ourselves with total abandon,
glowing powerful boundaries,
fully present in our declaration that we are ready for
something better,
tending our own fires,
celebrating the wild sparks,
seeding wonder and delight all around us,
fiercely advocating for what is right
(in our internal world and out in the world),
saying our clear yes
staying with this intensely courageous practice of
self-cherishing and self-treasuring

I am the fire that I tend to
I am hearth and flame, keeper and admirer,
yes to blazing and yes to steadiness
yes to life

Invitation: Communal wish space! Come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

You can also share how things have been going, check in, or deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, possibly in code.

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

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.

Wishes and checking-in are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!

The Collected Works / Nothing Is Wasted / Courage Is Coming

Majestic Sails

An explanatory preface because we are doing something new today!

There are three posts in this post.

The Collected Works / Nothing Is Wasted / Courage Is Coming

You could also say there are no posts in this post, since the first is an invitation, the second is an edited reprint of a post I wrote seven years ago, one which didn’t make it into the ebook of Collected Works, and the third is a sort of preview for the next post, along with another form of invitation.

But this is the form that wanted to come into being, and these are the things that I want to say right now, and here we are. I used blue boxes to differentiate between the three sections, and also named them accordingly. And I am thinking of this like a matinee of small shows.

May it be received with love…

( Sail is closed as of August 27th. <3 )

Collected Works, Majestic Sails (Part I)

I made an ebook of Collected Works, a beautiful, lovingly curated and edited collection of SEVENTEEN* of my all-time favorite essays from the Fluent Self blog over the past twelve years. The best of the best.

And I added Breathing Space pages in between for notes or clues, or if you feel inspired to do some stone skipping or any other processing of your own. Or use as a door to take a break and reset.

* Okay actually eighteen, because I combined two of my Writing To Walls posts into one, though maybe actually nineteen because I added the Flow Chart of Spaciousness, and anyway, 190 pages of good things.

Top ten reasons for why you should get this!

There are probably more, but let’s go with these:

  1. Reading this book is a healing, it was for me, and each time I read it different words appear like acupuncture needles in the exact right spots, something releases, something is undone, something is rewritten.
  2. This book is full of clues – each time I read any piece in here, I receive another clue, pointer or direction for my own healing and process.
  3. The scribbling pages, aka “Breathing Space”: a wonderful practice in resetting the etch-a-sketch, returning to yourself and integrating the material, a shavasana but for reading-yoga.
  4. These in-between pages also give you a container of space/time to process on your own, and do your own writing-and-rewriting. Of course you are all writers (and righters too) whether you know this down to your bones or pretend you don’t. I know there are a lot of people in both categories who read my blog, so I am glowing love for all of you, the writers, the righters, the ones who don’t or won’t or can’t yet identify as either.
  5. The post contain lots of links to other posts I’ve written over the past however many years, so if you read this online you will arrive at so much other goodness.
  6. You can print it out and have 190 pages of wisdom and love beside your bed!
  7. There are LOTS OF PUNS, like, seriously, a lot, and at least one of them will make you smile or want to engage in ridiculous wild wordplay with me, because this is one of the small but meaningful joys of life.
  8. I am currently dealing with [hard situation] and EVERY SINGLE POST held at least one clue for me, even though I didn’t plan it that way at all! As if past-me was leaving bread-crumb trails of wonder and delight, release and renewal, star paths. I realize this might sound at the very least overly intense, but I believe with my whole wild heart that whatever you might be going through right now, there are clues here for you. You will also seed even more clues for future-you, and that is a beautiful thing, self-perpetuating star trails of love and wisdom, a labyrinth to walk as many times as you want…
  9. Reading this may make you want to WRITE! It might make you feel JOYFUL and EXPECTANT AND TINGLY about writing. And writing/righting is both healing and revealing!
  10. I miss writing and posting on the blog, I want to return to that sharing process-and-legacy, and for that to work, the blog needs to be funded. So even if no other reason speaks to you, consider this a donation to The Fluent Self, investing in the continued work/play/treasure of self-fluency flowing into the world so we can deliver more magic.

This book was available for the first half of the month of Courage (August)

MAJESTIC SAIL PRICE: $28 USD

What happens next!

Saying yes to anything is a door, and so we pause and breathe, because that’s what we do at a threshold, entering as we wish to be in it. Then you press the beautiful button.

Then you will get an email from us with a download link to the book, which you can read at your own pace and time, because the superpower of All Timing Is Right Timing applies extra to magical things, and this is definitely a magical thing.

all the small-printables

  1. Here are my thoughts re buying stuff online: it is very easy to get sucked into the rigged-game world of frantic pressured decisions and accompanying doubt-panic-dread, so let’s not do that. That’s not fun for anyone and it is certainly not how I want to do business. Let’s do the *opposite* of that, let’s pause and breathe and remember what is important, getting back to ourselves and feeling our quiet warm yes of the moment. This way we can experience what it could feel like to buy something from love. This feels more harmonious and sustainable to me, more conscious, grounded and heart-centered, and I hope it’s also much less stressful for you.
  2. We don’t do refunds or returns here, and we have a page about the thought process behind why that is, in addition to the administrative aspects.
  3. We make everything with so much love, and we love that you want to be a part of our work, because these gift shop sales allow us to keep writing and sharing. Thank you. We love you.

Nothing Is Wasted (Part II)

This is an edited/updated reprint of a post I wrote in September, 2010, and it wanted to be shared today, so here it is.

Epiphany.

Like most epiphanies, it sounds obvious and even kind of stupid when you say it out loud, but it’s still a gleaming piece of truth, and now it lives in my body as a source of comfort:

Nothing is wasted.

Nothing is wasted.

I spent five years as bartender in south Tel Aviv.

In some pretty dive-ey places.

I knew artists, writers, musicians, local celebrities, surfers, motorcycle gang members, counterfeiters, drug dealers, tour guides, cab drivers, Moroccan mafia, and people who didn’t come in without bodyguards.

Once someone tried to follow me home. Once someone took my phone and smashed it against a wall. Once someone threw a vodka bottle at me (I ducked). Once I nailed someone in the face with a stack of about fifty coasters and didn’t even get fired, that story is in the book of Collected Works that I just told you about…

I learned a lot.

I learned a lot about sovereignty. About not taking other people’s shit personally.

About right people. And how to run a bar.

About managing (people, expectations, experiences).

About creating setting. And specifically creating culture.

About ambience and the power of everything that happens behind the scene. And about beauty and power, safety and pain.

What I’m NOT saying.

I’m not saying these experiences were good.

I’m not saying that everything is for the best. How could I know that. I am definitely not saying suffering is a gift. Or that we should be more grateful.

I would never say anything like that, I would never imply that our experience is wrong.

Just that — for me — it isn’t wasted.

I don’t need to spend more time on regret for each moment that wasn’t spent taking better care of myself or having better boundaries or doing something “meaningful” with my time.

All those moments have meaning. And they all came together to put me here now and headed towards where I’m headed. Not wasted.

Once I had a gig as a choreographer.

No, really. For a children’s folk dance troupe that performed all over the midwest.

I haven’t thought about that in years.

Even though I probably use those skills all the time …

  • putting things (insights, projects, programs, ideas, words) in order
  • creating sequences for things to happen in my business
  • working with groups to make the impossible possible
  • awesome high kicks for when we do Ironic Aerobics (totally optional) at my writing retreats

That job — and everything that went with it — has nothing to do with my life right now.*

And yet.

Nothing is wasted.

*That sentence was true seven years ago, but it is a ridiculous thing to say today, now that I am a dancer who dances every day, isn’t that wonderful?

Once I spent ten months climbing trees.

I know about things that you can only know from spending a lot of time by yourself up in a tree.

Nothing is wasted.

Once I spent three months in bed.

Near-catatonic depression.

Nothing to wake up for.

Only loss and grief and blankness.

Now I know what that’s like.

I can identify with things my clients and readers deal with, but without being in it.

And I have a different relationship with both fear and emptiness because I KNOW them. And with surprise moments of grace, because now I know that eventually they will come, and I know more about seeing, I keep notes about what brings me out of the dark places.

Nothing is wasted. Stay with us, please, stay with us.

So many things.

Big ones.

I have loved and been loved.

I have lost and been lost.

I have done terrible, terrible things. I have experienced moments of redemption.

Nothing is wasted.

And so many small things too.

I bake bread, name moons, cry, laugh, dance, list things.

Sometimes I feel afraid or envious or filled with fiery rage. Sometimes I feel peaceful and wild under the stars. Sometimes I forget how to rest and then I have to remember again.

Nothing is wasted.

Where the stuck happens.

Inside of resistance, guilt and blame.

In the moments of “But whyyyyyyyy is it like this?!” and “But whyyyyyyyyyy is it not already like that?”

When I don’t meet myself where I am.

When I forget to give legitimacy to whatever it is I’m feeling.

When I believe my fuzzy monsters instead of being curious about what is really going on.

When I forget that I have support and so I forget to call on allies and negotiators.

When I need to be right, and forget about all the good stuff that happens when I’m wrong.

And all other forms of fighting with what-is, instead of remembering that we are allowed to not like how things are in this moment. Observing the process not-liking is already creating space and changing the pattern.

And yet. Nothing is wasted.

So I can stop and remember again.

And if nothing is wasted, then we can extract the wisdom and the love, and release the pain that is attached to it.

But long before that, it is enough just to remember.

And in the comment blanket fort today…

We all have our stuff. We are all working on our stuff. It’s a process. It takes time.

This is tough territory. And again, I would never say that you are in any way obligated find value in any of the hard, awful things that have happened to you. You aren’t, and anyway that would be condescending, obnoxious and honestly a kind of violent thing to tell someone about their pain

So use this idea of “nothing is wasted” in a way that does feel safe and comfortable for you. And if it doesn’t do that for you, then let it go and do what you need to do for you, because nothing is more important than that.

*blows kiss*

Courage Is Coming (Part III)

Courage is coming!

It is the month of Courage, and I did something so courageous
(in my personal life, not my writing life)
that I immediately threw up six times
and then cried so hard that I gave myself laryngitis,
which is why I am now drinking slippery elm tea with honey,
and thinking about what it might mean to have the superpower of
Effortless Not Caring and Glorious Indifference,
and Glowingly Powerful Boundaries,
appreciating how brave I have been
and how brave I am
to meet this new door.

I have written a beautiful August post for the beautiful August door,
and I will post it in a few days when
August and I (and Courage and I) have had a chance to
get to know each other better.

Courage is coming, and so is the post about Courage.

Courage is coming.

Courage is coming.
Courage is here.
Courage is being restored as we speak,
with great love for the month of Restoration which taught us how.

In the meantime, I have a request for you (dear reader!)

A request! For you!

If you have already invested in the ebook (that is, invested in yourself and in our community here and this space and this magic, through acquiring the ebook), I would LOVE SO MUCH if you could share something in the comments….

For example, just that you have it and are happy about that, or something you noticed or received or enjoyed, or something about how beautiful it is or why you appreciate it or a piece of treasure you have gleaned, whether from reading or rereading or not-reading-yet, or via the act of saying yes itself, or a favorite thing about the book, or really anything else warm and loving that you wish to share!

That would mean a lot to me.

And it could be a sort of welcoming tea party for this collection too, which is a lovely image.

Invitation: Communal space! Come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

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

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.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!

The Doors Restored

Door of Restoration

The door before the door.

What is this space and what is this moment? Why are we here and why now
Visiting the door is how I like to meet the month. This time with the door is a healing which arrives through words but means more than the words, I never know what will come through (me or the door!) as I cross the threshold but it is always just right, and so here we are, admiring the door of Restoration…

Invocation.

I am asking Clarity to reveal itself and restore itself, restore how I see and perceive, restore crown memory.

Even now, in 111 degrees (43.8 degrees celsius aka too hot) in Las Vegas, my least-favorite American city, in full-blown heat-induced meltdown. Even in these places that can be so difficult and overwhelming, in all senses, aesthetic and sensory, political, internal, often all of these at once.

Even now, Clarity is already here, if I remember to invite her to show me what she sees:

Let me see me the [holy holiness] in this moment.

Yes, even in the shitty parts, metaphorically speaking though not only that — scatalogical foreshadowing? haha! maybe! — let all of it reveal the spark-glow of truth-love, the wisdom that lives in experience.

A revealing and restoring, and also re-storing.

Let Boundaries and Courage and all things restorative be restored.

Let each frightening or fiery moment reveal the next steps towards restoring what needs to be restored.

Door of Restoration, show your treasure. Reveal stars. Remind me to glow.

Let all that is mine return with love, and anything [not yes] or [not right now] can be restored to its rightful home.

The migraine that was not a migraine but a M.I.G.R.A.I.N.E.

After the Lyft ride with the driver whose grating voice, meandering stories and inability to take a hint made me want to hurl him off the nearest cliff, I made a note to carry with me at all times:

Time out! MIGRAINE!

Declaring Emergency Migraine & Immediate Time Out, my new favorite protocol, is especially important when I am already too intensely overwhelmed to be able to think up a polite way to tell someone they need to stop talking before I melt down and/or murder them.

Okay except what about Speak Truth?

Here’s how I see this. The migraine is not so much a lie as a useful translation into a phenomenon people understand, as opposed to Sensory Processing Sensitivity or I Feel All Energy, both of which require explaining and are often misunderstood anyway.

If I am on the receiving end of too much input and cannot possibly take in any more, this is exactly when a time-out is most vital, and also when I am least able to explain why I need it or to set boundaries for myself.

Though of course, this also works quite well as a preventative measure to halt the incoming migraine, the one that will show up if all this unwanted input doesn’t stop.

And, more importantly than that, this wonderfully succinct buffer phrase also contains secret magic in acronym form.

MIGRAINE = My [energy/time/headspace] Is Golden, Reducing Any Interference Now, Effortlessly!

This is how I stay true to being truthful, asking for what I need using whatever means work best in the moment, and improving on it next time.

Entry for Operation Sparks Restored.

Entry for the airport and the exit and the month of Restoration:

FIERCE & FEARLESS, POWERFUL & STRIKING, OF THE EARTH & WILD, GLOWING & ALIVE.

MY GLOW AND MY BOUNDARIES ARE PALPABLE, MAGNIFICENT AND UNDENIABLE. EVERYONE NOTICES AND MAKES SPACE. DOORS OPEN FOR ME.

I CALMLY DISAGREE TO ANYTHING THAT IS LESS THAN FULL YES. HEART OF GRATITUDE. POWERFUL PRESENCE. DEEPER BREATHS. ALL INTERACTIONS HARMONIOUS AND JOYFUL. I TAKE UP SPACE UNAPOLOGETICALLY. I AM LIT FROM WITHIN BY MAGIC.

Entry is everything.

I did so much entry for the airport, calling on/in unlikely superpowers like The TSA Respects My Queenliness and The Exact Right People to Flirt With, and got them both, which never happens.

Entry is the best. It really is. And as with all Wishing practices, whether it “works” or doesn’t seem to is not what really matters. Here’s what really matters:

The altered headspace, presence, awareness, boundaries and grace that come from:
a) getting quiet enough to feel what I want, and
b) brave enough to declare that I want it.

I bring more awareness to how I enter, how I exit, how I wish to be in it, how I wish to continue.

And I try to remember that entry can be as brief and uncomplicated as one word, one breath, one moment of returning and restoring.

What do I know about restoring and restoration?

The other day at restorative yoga, my body didn’t like any of the poses, so I just put my legs up on the wall and a blanket over my eyes, and slept for most of the ninety minute class, it was wonderfully healing.

I wonder why I don’t just stop more when stopping is so good for me.

But also I know why.

It’s scary to get quiet enough to feel what isn’t working, and to take care of myself so lovingly that I see how everything in my life which can’t reach that level of [I Am Treasured & Loved] doesn’t need to be a part of my life.

And what if this goes for people too, I mean, yes, we see why it is vulnerable to restore.

After.

After class I was so restored to the idea of restoring that I felt too woozy to drive, so I walked to my favorite park, and waited until I was rested from the resting and restored from the restoring to return to the safe house to rest-and-restore some more.

Then I realized it had suddenly become July while I was resting and restoring, and July is the month of Restoration, and laughed for a very long time.

Restoring.

Restoration like restoring a building. Very. Interior. Design.

Restoring the storehouses of power.

Restoration of qualities: Sovereignty restored. Crown on. Rest restored. Courage restored.

Restoring like Righting and Returning. Rewriting and Rerighting.

Restoring like Provisions and providing for myself with stores that are restored.

Righting myself. Restoring myself through restoring my self, and my sense of self, calling all my selves back in, returning to myself through welcoming all aspects of who I am.

Glowing appreciation to a fellow star agent for talking this out with me, we were totally on the same magical calendar page!

Restorations.

Restoration is RESTFUL in how it motivates.

It restores vitality, and not from the abusive mentality of Ass In Chair Do All The Things Do Them Now Kick Your Own Ass, but from applying presence, love and Extreme Self-Care.

Waiting, listening, trusting. Tending to the fractal flowers.

Restoration is a return to congruence, a new form of doing, without striving or pushing, motivated by love.

The Restoration mindset asks for receptivity and curiosity: Is there a more harmonious way for this to happen? What if this doesn’t need my input? What if there is nothing to fix?

May everything that needs restoring be restored.

May everything that needs restoring be restored.

With care and reverence, lovingly restoring like a curator with a precious work of art.

May I remember that I am the work of art and I am also the curator!

May I apply the superpower of With Great Care And Reverence to everything I do.

And may all broken hurting connections be healed and restored, with love, clear communication and good naps.

Anything else about this?

Yes. Healing is not linear and trust takes time. And hey guess what, over time self-cherishing will come with more ease.

A cascading of a hundred billion sparklepoints for me for practicing and for noticing.

What else am I noticing?

There is a flip maneuver on the silk sling, I can successfully execute this maybe one out of twenty tries. But if I do it backwards first, then I nail it every single time.

I watch the slow motion video take, trying to discern what makes it work versus why so rarely.

Maybe it’s the superpowers of Widdershins and the magical question of what needs to happen backwards.

Maybe going backwards RESTORES the sensation of control and alignment. Maybe backwards is where the power and courage engage. Maybe we reverse to restore perspective.

The noticing invites the restoration, so let’s all be better Noticers, noticing with love and without applying guilt.

The S Word.

In motorcycle school they teach you about SIPDE: SCAN, IDENTIFY, PREDICT, DECIDE, EXECUTE.

This is something I do anyway while both driving and dancing, but I’m allergic to the acronym, which I find cold and unfeeling, something from the jargon-loving engineer-brain world of Ass In Chair, and myers-briggs types and charts divided into four sections.

My negative reaction is visceral and immediate. Why am I expected to adapt my wonder and glow-spark to this unimaginative non-magical world everyone else seems to inhabit. I refuse.

I want to be a panther. A panther intuitively lives by SIPDE, but would never ever use such robotic words if it had the glorious freedom of language.

When a panther stalks, it lives and breathes each element of this, but with so much more grace:

Sense, Intuit, Pause/Perceive, Leap, and then Adapt In Mid-Air. SIPLA!

This is the panther way. This is my way. But of course for metaphorical motorcycle school I have to pretend that I am not a panther.

Sense, Sequence, Stars, and other S words.

In real-real life though, I Sense and Stalk and Sleep and Sequence, a Sovereign Secret Agent, Soaring and Sailing, Under the Stars. Crown on, tail always adjusting. Snick. Snick. Snick.

This is how I get things done.

I restore them. I allow them to be restored.

I restore my powers, by resting into them.

Sense, intuit, (be a) panther, dive, emerge.

Look, I just restored the magic of SIPDE. What if everything else can be restored this easily too? With play and pleasure, power and presence.

Snick snick snick. Gliiiiide.

What is restorative? What is being restored?

Obvious yet mind-blowing epiphany of this week, while packing:

IF I CAN SEE WHAT I HAVE, I CAN SEE WHAT IS INCONGRUENT
INSTANTANEOUS INVENTORY
INSIDE AND OUT
NOTHIN IS EXTRANEOUS
I KNOW WHAT I NEED BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT I HAVE

(!!!!!!)

This is literally true, for example, I don’t need to order new [X] because oh hey look I have some stored in a basement, and this is true in my internal space.

If I know what is in my headspace, if I am more discerning about what enters (a clear no to anything that causes a MIGRAINE), then I know what I have and I know what I need.

We pause for a funny story about Congruence.

I called in Congruence to help me with my secret mission of PP&F (Provisioning for Pleasure and Freedom), a rewriting of the hard-for-me bits like packing, moving, all forms of logistick-ing and deciding where I will be when, tomorrow is Day 439 on the road.

Asking for Congruence is a tricky thing because she always immediately shows you what is Incongruent, and usually it is something you didn’t want to see.

I exited Agent Sloan’s safe house early in the morning, wildly proud of myself for having finally mastered the one-trip-to-the-car exit, an ongoing wish for many months.

And then something felt not-right with the cotton grocery market bag. This bag is not Congruent, I thought. And then my next thought was who cares, I don’t want to let it go because it is useful and the exact right size and rolls small and was only recently acquired, and even has a clue on it about Crown On, in the shape of a small crown.

Small. Crown. Trains of thought.

I was thinking about this bag and crowns, and the mysteries of SIPDE, and then, completely failing to SIPDE, I placed the small crown bag on the ground without looking, and loaded the rest of the car.

Only when I put it in the trunk did I see it was covered in dog shit, and of course there is no way to clean it and no time, already en route to breakfast and then the airport, so goodbye slightly-incongruent bag that is now very-incongruent.

At breakfast I discovered my lapse of SIPDE-ing had greater consequences than I’d realized, at some point before noticing my crown bag was coated in poop (how’s that for a clue about current sovereignty levels), I must have slung it across my shoulder, leaving a large smear on the front of my thigh, and that, my friends, is how I ended up in my underthings in the cafe bathroom, washing my travel clothes in the sink, holding them under the hand-dryer and inventing new meanings for SIPDE.

Rewriting and restoring. Committing to being a different kind of noticer.

And hey now that is the second story here about animal excrement and listening (or not listening) to intuition.

Let us tell and retell, restoring what needs to be restored.

And let’s find the treasure and the holy holiness in all of it.

Also hello, sadness, yes, okay, we have some tears to spill when we consider this theme of recognizing that maybe things which are Not Yes aren’t worth keeping, this is painful.

Let’s ask to be comforted as we restore our stores of treasure, our stores of superpowers. Crown restored. No more small crown. No more kinda-sorta. No more time and energy on experiences that don’t glow love towards me.

Restored and Re-Stored.

Late at night craving kisses from someone far away, but there were none to be had.

Drifting to sleep planting kiss-wishes. Come in, come in, lost kisses.

Suddenly awake at four in the morning, reaching for the phone, certain my missing kisses had arrived and were now waiting for me to receive them and more, maybe I dreamed them, I felt so sure of them, but there was nothing.

I put the device into AIR(plane) mode, aka the plane of Access Internal Resonance, through shutting off the world. Going Dark. Turning Inward.

Retreating to a place where I can’t look for kisses.

Except then I couldn’t bring myself to turn the phone back on and risk feeling that feeling again.

Maybe this sojourn in AIR mode will restore something, hahaha here is the monster crew snickering now, yeah, they say, like maybe your dignity. Yes, okay, very funny, guys, but maybe it will restore other things, peaceful borders to my kingdom, or a sense of grounding, even as I live in the AIR. Maybe it will restore love.

A reigniting or a new form of ignited, a sky full of sparks.

Into the water / I am my own Power Source

I entered the float tank with a wish that was mysterious to me: My power center is restored! My powers are restored! I am the Star Queen! I am the Wildest Cat!

Ninety minutes later, all the mysteries had been solved, knowing and remembering, total Clarity:

I am the power center, the channel for and deliverer of my own powers. I can fill up on love all on my own: get quiet, immerse and receive it directly from source because I am a reflection of source — I can breathe-and-hum love, and never run out.

I Am My Own Power Source. I Am My Own Love Source. I Restore My Own Stores through connecting to the love that just is, not the love that is dependent on other people to deliver it.

Is there anything I want to call in for this month of Restoring & Restoration?

Yes, more superpowers!

Let’s call in all superpowers of Wild Me of the Wilds of South Dakota, Fiery Bad Girl of the Badlands, and Witchiest Witch.

Tough Fearless Motorcycle-Loving Wild, Panther of Prowess, a new Wonder Woman who trains five times harder than the most powerful Amazon warrior, and naps five times more deeply than the most content and happy sloth.

Passionate Troublemaker, Wild Wanderer, Secret Aerialist, Interior Designer on the move.

Champion of Luscious Minimalism, Still The Best Shot, A Star Among The Stars, A Bell Among Bells, Fierce & Fearless, Powerful & Striking, Grounded & Wild, Glowing & Alive, Undeniably Sexy, The Star Queen Who is Of The Ground And Lives In The Air, Unconditional Self-Treasuring, The Seas Part For Her Magnificence!

What will help us dive deep (and soar high) into Restoring The Crown, Restoring the Powers, and experiencing some Star Level Congruence and Star Level Sparks? Ah, yes, of course, the superpower of this month’s door: Deep Healing & Sweetness.

It’s right there in the doorway.

May it be so!

NEXT STEP / AND A PRESALE!

Everything I write is a healing and a channeling, a magic that works in all directions, internal and external, through the labyrinth-compass, and all the wisdom here comes from the work (and play! mostly play!) of Self Fluency.

Buying something from the Gift Shop is a great way to dive deeper into practicing/living this on your own, and it helps me continue to share the work here.

During the month of Restoration I am offering something I’ve never done before: a collection of seventeen of my very favorite pieces out of everything I’ve posted here over the past twelve years. It is only available this month.

I haven’t set up the official page yet, so this is a PRESALE SALE! You can order it here, and you’ll get an email with the download link before the end of the month, though probably sooner!

Invitation: Communal wish space! Come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

You can also share how things have been going, check in, or deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, possibly in code.

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

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.

Wishes and checking-in are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!

G L I M P S E

Door of Vitality

Glimpses of a glimpse

My secret word is GLIMPSE,
I don’t know what this means but
can’t wait to find out.

For sure it is about perception, proprioception, perspective,
a door that is an invitation, light streaming through,
a sense of could be — or already is,
newness, expansiveness, arriving,
sparks sparking,
(a glimpse!)

This is a wish for June and beyond.

The superpower of Living/Loving The Transitions

This is another June wish,
let’s skip a stone and learn more:

What does it mean to live/love the transitions?

Not everything happens with ease, this is true, most things don’t,
and so we slow it all down,
bringing more attention to both the openings and the constriction,
asking what would bring more ease,
in movement and in stillness and in
this complicated thing of being alive.

I’m pretty sure the in-between is not only EQUALLY important to
both the previous and upcoming moment/action/situation/location,
transitions might even be more important,
because entry is everything.

Entry Is Everything

Entry and exit,
the inhale and exhale of life,[enter as you wish to be in it / exit as you wish to continue]

The transition is the place of Intention and Naming,
and therefore the place of MAGIC, not to mention…

Voyage > Destination

And anyway how we voyage alters not only where we end up but how we experience it,
so here is the real question…

Questions

How can I voyage (aka breathe, live, dance, cry, flail, write, work, play)
with intention and vitality?

What would it feel like to lovingly tend to the transitions
instead of my default approach
aka ignoring them, resenting them, fighting them, or
just wishing they weren’t so fucking complicated
what would that be like?

What if each problem is really actually just a challenge, and
a challenge is really only a mystery, and
a mystery is actually something I get to play with,
and so here I am, playing,
with words and listening, with watching and waiting,
trusting that each new glimpse will reveal more…

This is a wish for June and beyond

Keys

I tucked my car key in my pocket,
and Slightly Wiser Me said
hey babe, you want to put that on your keychain,
and I ignored her,
possibly I already felt too rushed?

Or, more likely, I figured it was just general advice for
some time in the future.

Later that day she told me,
very clearly and firmly,
she needed me to show up twenty minutes early to [thing],
this was of vital importance,
so I did.

The next sequence of events is foggy and unclear,
I parked, and then, somehow, in between removing the key and
reaching for my bag,
the key mysteriously flung itself over my shoulder
and disappeared under the seats.

Keys open things

So here I am on the hottest day
twisting myself around inside a small broiling vehicle,
searching with fingers and body for one key,
and this car currently houses everything I own in the world,
and I can’t leave
because I can’t lock the car
because I don’t have the key!

Can’t even open the door because I’m on the busiest street,
and can’t drive away (because the key is gone)
or turn on air conditioning or open windows (because the key is gone),
and I am losing my mind from the heat and the tightness.

Slightly Wiser Me

“Wise-me!”, I call,
and she is kind enough not to say I-told-you-so,
she reminds me to breathe through the tears, and to trust in
All Is Well,
as well as logic and truth:

(the key exists, it can be found)
(simple solutions will reveal themselves when I stop panicking)
(drink water and thank past-you who refilled water bottles)
(ahhhhhhhhhhh)

Thank you

And, with that thank-you-exhale, my fingers find the key,
I arrive at my appointment seconds before they lock the door.

Thank you, Wise Me,
you were right you were right you were right
about all of it,
also hey guess what, my key now lives on a ridiculously findable keychain
and I arrive twenty minutes early everywhere I go,
because Entry Is Everything…

Birds, again

You guys! Remember that time a bird
nearly pooped on my head but
missed by a hair (ha! by a hair!)
because Incoming Me told me to stop where I was,
and I listened?

More listening,
with love.

This is a thing that can be hard for me to remember:
as much I instinctively rebel against anything resembling authority,
my internal wise knowing just is.

It is external Perceived Authority that requires dismantling,
Slightly Wiser Me has nothing but unconditional love for me,
whether I follow her suggestions or not,
she holds unwavering trust that no matter what I do,
I will find my way to her.

Trust

I will find my way to her, yes.

May I trust her as much as she trusts me…

This is another wish for June and beyond.

Plenty

Many astonishing things happened to me in May the month of Plenty,
some painful and some straight-up miraculous,
and I was trying to name them all
for this passage (because Entry Is Everything)
into this new Month of Vitality,
and then the barista bought my drink,
ah, hello Plenty, there you are again, and I got distracted,
and now Slightly Wiser Me wants my attention again…

She: This can be so much easier than you think
Me: It can?
She: FOLLOW THE NOs
Me: Wait, is that Follow The Nose or Follow The [No]s?
She: Sure. The instinctual sense of what is not yours, and also, yes, what smells right to you. Trust your wise mammal, your panther self. Cultivate that.

What would it be like to never doubt my no and
never doubt my nose?
And what if my [No]s is a version of my [KNOWS],
and following my nose is trusting what I know,
aka what she knows,
and maybe that is the same.

Another wish for June and beyond

A moment of Glum

Me: Slightly Wiser Me! Talk to me. I am feeling very glum right now
She: That’s allowed.
Me: I want to be a glamorous 1960s cat-burglar played by Audrey Hepburn. Fun and playful and limber and alive. A charming troublemaker with a good heart. Clad in black, flaunting authority, speaking French when needed, I am imagining croissants are vital in this movie. But what do I do when Audrey Hepburn is feeling too glum to come up with plans for the awesome heist that restores the jewels/maps to their rightful owner? I mean, yes, she is charmingly glum, but what do we do with that?
She: I think we can let her mourn how genuinely hard things have been lately.
Me: Okay good point, and then what?
She: Well my love, there is no Then What.

Trust, again

Me: That’s what I don’t get. Does that just mean, okay, whatever emerges emerges? Or is that, like, some deep thing about how There Is Only Now, and if so, what am I supposed to do with that when there is so much glum?
She: The plot will resolve itself, it always does, no one has ever made a movie where the heroine just glumly gazes out at the rain for the entire thing. Okay, possibly in some very French art film. But this is not how a caper goes, and your movie is a caper. This is just a moment, and you need to trust that this moment is relevant to the plot, and also that it will pass.
Me: Huh.
She: Allow the moment to be the moment. Trust the filmmakers and the directors and the actors and the casting people and the people who do the cool rain effects. They have this under control.

Invoking superpowers for the month of Vitality

Wild Vitality
Trust What I Know / Follow The Nose
I Am The Wild Sensualist
Entry Is Everything
I Love the Transitions / I Live In The Air
My Glow is Palpable / My Boundaries Are Palpable
Everything With The Greatest Of Ease
All Good Intentions Shine Through (mine and those of others)
Hey That Was So Much More Fun Than I Expected
Delight In Life And Aliveness
Yes To Self-Cherishing And Self-Treasuring
Everything Is A Warmup For Resting
Doing Nothing Is A Secret Tryst With Incoming Me
Part The Seas For My Magnificence (I See My Own Glow)
What Is In The Pot Can Change Based On How I Enter The Moment Of Removing The Lid
Presence, Grace, Embodied Fullness of Right Here Right Now
Breathe And Breathe Some More
Everything In Its Season
Yes To The Yes And No To Everything Else
Minimal Effort Maximum Magic
All The Best Surprises
Bells Ring
It’s All In The Bag

May it be so. For June and beyond…

Is there anything else I want to put into the pot for June?

I am focusing on internal space and being
the most fierce, fearless and sometimes even straight up intimidating
glorious Panther of glowing boundaries,
may this echo into the world and
may we all be less swayed by the immense fuckery going on in the world
which is indeed immense, amen.

And I am feeling-imagining
how my spine and pelvis are made of jewels, as is my crown
(the crown of my head and the invisible crown),
trying to remember that regal, grounded composed and powerful are
inside me somewhere, part of my nature as
a mammal, an embodied being, a beautiful spirit playing inside
this game of figuring out how a body works,
in all its limitations and in all its capabilities.

My mission is to strengthen my awareness,
heal any residual amnesia
aka the parts of me who have forgotten embodied presence,
and to feel/awaken this aliveness
inside me,
may it be so…

{ANNOUNCEMENT!}

I am still working on putting together a page for crowdfunding purposes that can double as a way for people who read to express thank-you-and-love for my work in the world, as well as a way for me to express thank-you-and-love in return, in the form of some if not all of the cool things that I’m currently working on — which you can read about in the last post! If you’re on the list, you’ll get a note, and I will try to post about it soon too.

THANK YOU.

Invitation: come play with me…

You are invited to share this post and to share many !!!!!! about what is here,

Or share appreciation or anything sparked for you while reading…

You can also share how things have been going, check in, or deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, possibly in code.

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

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.

Wishes and checking-in are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing.

We remember that people vary and my process doesn’t have to be yours, and this is a good thing.

Here’s how we meet each other: with great kindness and appreciation and awe, whispering (and sometimes shouting) oh, wow what beautiful wishes!