Friday chickenIn which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Oh, Friday.

It seems like there’s not a whole lot to say other than “I spent 99.9% of this week crying my eyes out.”

But this form exists for a reason, so let’s see what it holds.

The hard stuff

The crying. The crying. The crying.

I could not stop crying this week.

It’s a miracle I didn’t completely dehydrate.

Basically anything that started ended in tears.

I cried during work, I cried during massage, I cried while walking home, I cried on the bus. And then more crying.

That was the week, basically.

And I can’t even blame hormonal craziness this time.

Overwhelmed, scared, frustrated, anxious.

And then more of that.

Here are some things I cried over.

Not knowing what to do.

Not knowing how to do it.

Not knowing who to ask.

Remembering then.

Still being in pain from then.

Still overwhelmed by how much pain from then.

Also I cried about Dancing with the Stars.

Yes, Dancing with the Stars. Which I have only seen once, and I turned the sound turned off because the concept of people submitting themselves to judgment is too painful to bear.

I cried about how I really just want to be dancing. All the time. Why am I not dancing? What am I doing when I’m not dancing?

And about dead dreams. And watching such beautiful, present, radiant people deflating under someone else’s view of who they are, when who they are is so AMAZING.

I cried about how much I loathe Facebook.

And about people being awful.

But mainly I cried because the thing I am doing right now in my business/es is so completely beyond what is familiar to me.

Getting locked out.

For four incredibly long hours.

Except that I didn’t know it was that long because locked in, in addition to my keys, were my phone and wallet and jacket and everything else.

In the end I had to walk thirty minutes in the cold and rain, in three inch heels, to get somewhere for help.

Crying all the way, of course, because why would I stop crying this week.

PTSD.

I don’t have anything to say about that, other than that it’s horrible and I don’t wish it on anyone.

Not having help and support.

Or perceiving that I don’t have help and support.

The good stuff

I finally figured out what I was crying about.

Or really: who I was crying for.

It’s a sad, scared self from then: me from several years ago. And she didn’t get to cry at the time.

It turns out there is a lot of grief in there. And once I realized what the tears were for, the whole Week of Crying seemed a lot less drastic/awful.

Help arrived.

I got help from Chuck and help from Cairene and help from Wally. And Carolyn.

Yoga.

Yoga was everything this week.

Which might be the thing that was reminding me so much of then, when yoga was the absolutely ONLY thing I had.

But it helped. Breathing and moving and stillness.

I have tools!

I have so many tools.

And this week I used everything. Everything I’ve written about here. The stuff I teach at Crossing the Line. The emergency calming techniques (which were a godsend). Shiva Nata. All of it.

Especially: everything I’ve learned, experienced and internalized at Rally (Rally!), which is where techniques come home and land deep.

Thank goodness for tools.

Costumes.

Lots of costumes.

Perfect simple solutions.

They exist.

Pesach. Tonight. Freedom.

Even though this holiday can be a serious pain, and I have not been enjoying the extra workload this week, I’m glad it’s here.

Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

Tabstravaganza! Or: what’s Havi been up to with all those open Firefox tabs?

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

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band:

Nobody’s Muffin

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat

Point 1. Rally (Rally!) is the most amazing thing in the world.

Point 2. They’re about to end though because running the giant Playground complex that is Stompopolis requires my full-time attention.

There are four more Rallies this year. There will be two next year (but one is for Floop members, so really only one public one). And that’s it.

So come to Rally. It will change everything in your life and turn things all magic-ey.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom. And chag sameach..

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.