A chicken of

Do you remember when we used to chicken (as a verb) on Fridays?

A shared ritual in the form of PAUSING TO REFLECT, then checking in here to share what was observed.

The check-in-ing sounds like chickening, the words get tangled up, as sometimes happens to me and sometimes also happens with my week, and the best part of the chicken ritual was knowing: no matter how tangled my week might get, I would still end up here, where the unwinding of self and week begins.

There were no rules, it changed shape and form as it needed to, we’d mostly just name the bits of the week that were hard and recount the parts that were good.

Really this is also the practice of Acknowledgment & Legitimacy.

Yes, the hard things *were* really hard!
Yes, good noticing, these other things were pleasurable and meaningful, they raised the joy factor, and they count!
Yes, sometimes what was hard was also good,
and vice versa, yes, acknowledgment and legitimacy for this too.

Breathing for the hard, challenging and extremely-mysterious mysteries of this week.

I desperately miss someone I hate
and still can’t stop crying
in public, like, pretty much constantly,
also cannot coax body to eat,
so worn out from 36 days on the road
and the seemingly endless miscommunications
and panicky-panics,
noticing many things that are not as they were and therefore disorienting,
too many decisions, overwhelming logistics,
the monsters of You Are Behind On Everything and
Extreme Doom,
it can be so challenging sometimes to remember that Now
Is Not Then,
especially with real terror in the air
that extra-porous highly-sensitive-person me feels
as far-away things are happening,
car is still broken,
heart too, yes, ugh, need a new metaphor for this pain-rage grief state,
betrayal and loss,
and yes, I also cried a lot about other things in the air like
actual nazis, treasonous collusion that seemingly meets no consequences,
all the memories of assault and all the stirred up me-toos,
[boundaries boundaries boundaries boundaries]
long aching days of driving,
and hiding from myself, and others,
when it all is too much.

Acknowledgement & Legitimacy for how hard these hard things are.

Breathing for the good, joyful and rewarding bits of this week.

oh god bless mueller and the first spark of hopefulness since that awful day in november,
are we finally at the point in the movie where someone says IT GOES ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP,
and we, the audience, are muttering yes good grief it took you guys long enough,
breathing for that, may these sparks become flames,
also I made it to a quiet peaceful ranch in nebraska where
a tiny sweet kitten and two loving dogs immediately adopted me as their own,
so much kindness, really and truly everywhere,
a waitress at a diner gave me an ice scraper for my car and insisted I keep it,
a stranger squeezed my hand while I cried,
so many people made me tea,
there was refuge in the form of an empty gym when I needed to be alone,
and in the form of dancing with jake on the carpet in the dark,
sometimes one moment would be so beautiful, so utterly gasp-worthy, we would
set something in motion to find it again,
the ken burns documentary about FDR was oddly calming,
as was watching it in the easy quiet company of an ex from nineteen years ago
who is now a friend, see, things can change shape and pain ebbs,
mary lou understood about everything, including how grief can eat away at appetite,
and listened and didn’t push,
and chris kept me company for two hours on the hardest day,
this trip has delivered many surprises but mostly in the form of new friends,
breathing for the good things I have already forgotten,
or didn’t appreciate enough,
breathing for tacos, libraries, shortcuts, signs, clues, labyrinths,
the road less traveled,
warmth when I needed it,
and new superpowers that get stronger each day.

And I made a page: come join our secret op if you haven’t already!

A hundred billion sparklepoints for remembering the good.

Come play

Share your chicken 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. Thank you, week. Thank you, friends who keep company here.