In 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.
You guys! Two! Hundred! Chickens!
I still can’t believe that we haven’t missed a week.
Thank you, everyone who has every been part of it. Whether you do it here or on your own, all chickens are loved and appreciated. :)
The hard stuff
Even when you have desperately wanted them.
Like when you ask for them at Rally, and you figure out how they can be easy and then they just miraculously happen!
Change is a really big deal. And even the most wished-for things can still be scary/hard/uncomfortable when they show up, as it turns out.
Adjusting and more adjusting.
Oh, all the not hearing back.
That point of waiting-not-waiting.
A number of things both business and personal are kind of in limbo right now (or so it feels, at any rate), and this was a reminder/reflection/confirmation of that.
I would like to hear! Back!
Except that’s not what’s happening right now, and there isn’t anything I can do about that part. Just being with the part that’s mine.
The superpower of loving, gracious, beautiful detachment was available this week in a few key moments of grace, but the rest of the time it was hard to remember what that felt like.
A maybe-broken friendship?
I am hoping-hoping-hoping not but also I am in my stuff about this right now.
The new lighting for Stompopolis that we ordered back in March is still not installed.
Perception of things not feeling safe.
Like at the Playground when one of the pirate crew doormice reported that a bunch of people who shouldn’t have the code to the building have the code to the building.
So we had to change all the codes.
Or hearing that something was stolen from one of our neighbors in the building.
More PTSD fun.
During the rainstorms of insanity this week, there was damage to Stompopolis!
The Treasure Cave (that’s the new treatment room) flooded, and three ceiling pieces are ruined, and everything got wet!
Then someone was fixing something in the Playground and broke it.
Then everything went kablooey, so grrrrrrrrrr!
The good stuff
Ohmygod this was the best week!
All these planted-wants and old wishes just showed up this week, along with beautiful moments of glowing TRUTH.
Sleeping so well.
And naps. Yum.
And space to nap in. Speaking of which….
Space things working out the way I want.
Which just feels kind of miraculous.
Stompopolis is okay, despite the damage.
Getting caught in the rain.
On Saturday there was an hour that turned out to be the most rain-filled (rain-heavy? heaviest rain?) in all documented history of Portland.
And my friend Chuck (Her Chuckness) and I were in the middle of a walk when the skies opened, and for some reason getting soaked to the bone was kind of hilarious, so and we giggled the entire water-logged impossible-to-see way, and each time we thought it couldn’t possibly rain any harder, it did.
Normally this would have been another sign that everything is going Horribly Wrong, but it wasn’t. It was fun.
That was reassuring.
None of which can be explained very well, but I ran around all week saying things like, “OF COURSE! I don’t know what to do at a health club but I am a genius at secret societies! The blanket fort’s name is George!”
And it all made sense.
Seriously I did so much Shiva Nata this week, and everything was just clear and clean and easy. All my superpowers came out to play, and it worked.
Courageous mouse me.
I did a bunch of things that scared me this week (some symbolic and some real-and-in-person and one involving a twisty-slide).
And none of the things were scary while they were happening. It was only beforehand when I was telling complicated stories about how scary they were.
This was a good thing to remember.
Process process process.
Writing and stone skippings and implementation of said epiphanies.
Support and right timing when I needed it.
Also a tiny but important miracle.
I made a seemingly-impossible wish and it came true.
I just felt smile-ey and at home in myself.
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.
I learned about this week’s band from a little girl in the park (in an admirably stripey jumpsuit) who was on the swing next to me.
They’re loud and funny and sweet, or at least that’s what I imagine.
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
I have a bunch of things to say, but for now I will just say Rally! Rally! Rally!
Because this week was full of GIANT transformational newness and that was basically because everything I planted at Rally is falling into place.
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.
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.