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.
Man, this week. This week this week this week.
I have not especially wanted to write about it. Which is why Friday is happening on Saturday.
The hard and the good this week were pretty much all related to the same thing: all the bandages coming undone at once.
Sometimes I yelled and cried when they were torn from my skin, others just slipped away. But it was a week of lessons in detachment, sovereignty and hard-earned autonomy. And a lot of it was not very fun.
The hard stuff
The Great Unraveling of 2012.
Like I said, all the bandages.
Stupid truth, stop being right.
Hearing things I did not want to hear, from the two people I trust the most.
Worse, these things they were saying were TRUTH. And important. The advice was sound.
I just didn’t like any of it.
Massive PTSD spiral, what fun.
It turns out there is a whole category of trigger that I did not know about.
So I’d been all set for the explosions but I had no idea what I was in for after a completely innocuous conversation on what seemed to be a completely innocuous topic.
Had to fall apart. And then use all the tricks.
Receiving two awful pieces of news that I was not equipped to handle.
So most of the week went towards processing that.
(This is not at all something I am receptive to discussing so if you are one of those rare people who gets to talk to me on the phone, please don’t bring it up unless I do. I need space for this. Thank you.)
More difficult conversations.
Just when I thought I was done having unbearably painful conversations for a while, there had to be another one.
Which I spent most of this week dreading.
Oh, and then the conversation was a total raging nightmare.
Ohmygod a million trillion times harder in reality than what I was imagining, and if I’d had any idea that it would be that awful I never would have had it.
Where is the new pot for this plant?
I am a plant in the wrong pot and I need to be re-potted immediately.
I am so completely angry about something right now.
It has to do with space and privacy and agreements.
Worried about someone I love.
And hoping hoping hoping they will be okay.
Zombie nights zombie nights.
The damn toddler next door screaming his lungs out all the time, day and night. Night. NIGHT. (And it’s too hot to close windows).
There was one night when he wasn’t screaming but then was some sort of rapping competition happening on someone’s porch? Rapping olympics? I am not sure. Until 1am. The worst.
Another round of sad.
The friend (who doesn’t want to be friends? and oh my broken heart over that!) is leaving town, which I knew, and she is not going to say goodbye to me, which I also knew, but she did want to say goodbye to someone else. Obviously this has nothing to do with me and is not about me, but I felt sad anyway, and oh it has taken so many months to almost-kind-of-sort-of get over the original sad in the first place that I am not ready for another round of sad about it.
Enough with the sad already.
A ritual that I love has to end because CONGRUENCE.
All the bandages came undone.
It was a lot to deal with.
The good stuff
All the bandages came undone!
I needed this! So much!
And now they aren’t there any more.
Things are a little raw, yes. But they are healing. That’s the big news.
I did the right thing.
It involved more pain and sacrifice than I would have liked, but I did the right thing.
I am okay.
Despite all the challenges and the hard, my strengths and internal resources are stronger.
Some parts were easy.
Surprisingly easy, even.
Sweet compassionate detachment.
Holding room for the stuff without being in the stuff.
Getting to the point where I can actually wholeheartedly give up on something that I never thought I would be able to let go of.
Strongest force field ever.
Other people’s crap couldn’t get in this week. I nailed it on boundaries. Just in time, too.
I will silent retreat on that but it was big.
Yoga. And conducting.
The best part of the week.
Showing Stompopolis to Nicole.
And how excited she got!
It saved my life three different times. Literally, not just symbolically.
And magic happened. Astonishing things.
Lots and lots of progress. Just in time too.
Massive breakthrough with writing the copy for the new space.
And the new Shiva Nata site design finally went live.
Especially from my business mentor, from Lady Chuck and from the amazing amazing amazing Shannon.
Moths and messages.
Taking it in stride. Again.
Goodbye, bandages. Goodbye, hurt.
Release release release.
I am getting better at this.
That is extremely reassuring.
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:
Arguing With Piglets.
They’re loud and they go all night.
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
There are TWO Rallies in 2013. Or you can come to the one in September.
Rally (Rally!). It will change everything. It always does.
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.