Where I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
This week went extra-fast, the opposite of slow-motion. All the hamsters on buttered-up wheels.
Trusting my instinct.
Where to sit. When to stop. When to wait. When to press go.
Turning everything into a secret op.
Even things like calling a friend or going to dance class.
Noticing that I was resisting a thing I thought I wanted and letting that be okay.
And then I found out why it scares me and talked to a bunch of monsters, and everything is better now.
In fact, I’m kind of glad they all showed up because now everything that did not make sense makes sense.
(For example! This whole time I’ve been trying to OPEN but then resisting the opening. But it turns out that what is needed is not to open but instead to hum. Humming instead of opening is the secret way to open things without it feeling vulnerable and scary.)
Showing Svevo around Stompopolis.
I can’t think of anything better than introducing my most favorite person to my most favorite space. This was quite possibly one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
And it was such a perfect demonstration of how it is impossible to describe Stompopolis. I thought I’d given a really good, detailed description of what it was like but when we got there, he gasped.
He was absolutely flabbergasted. Completely awe-struck. Overcome with joy. He said later that going through the door was like being dropped from a spaceship and landing in a mysterious beautiful meadow of unknown flowers and colors, filled with delight. He said it was like the first time you go scuba diving: you just cannot imagine how beautiful, how striking, how different, what a feast for the senses it is. This entirely new world, its own complete world.
Oh, my heart. I felt so reassured about my inability to do Stompopolis justice or write decent copy for it. It can’t be done. You just have to experience it. Because that kind of magic and containment and majesty just cannot be summed up.
Though isn’t this a wonderful sentence? Here is what Svevo said:
“I think anyone who walks in that door can’t help but have something happen to them. Something exquisite.”
Next time I might…
Do more entry.
A lot. You know what? Even a little.
But more preparing for the voyage. Even two more minutes to sit and breathe before [Thing X], no matter what Thing X is.
Remember that de-cobwebbing stirs up dust. And then you cough a lot.
Metaphorical dust and metaphorical coughing but still.
Whenever I clear out a bunch of old crap (physical stuff that has emotional stuff attached to it), I feel better for having cleared it. But while it’s being cleared and shortly after, there’s dust.
I want to remember that it’s not “Uh oh, what’s all this gunk and emotion?”, and go straight to “Oh right, here are the remnants of THEN exiting, and yeah, I might feel a bit foggy while it’s happening.”
- Waking up at 2am.
- Worried about an old friend.
- Being right next to one inane conversation after another. Even at the Lodge, where that never happens.
- Distance. All the kinds at once.
- Not spending time with my playmate.
- Three different things that in my head were going to be fun turned out to be unbearably boring.
- Other people’s panics. Other people’s projections onto me.
- Too much socialize! People I like and productive meetings and all good things, but way too much interpersonal interaction for this HSP.
- Body doing something it used to do but hadn’t for quite a while and I had really hoped that we were done with this.
- Zombie days from not sleeping.
- I forgot how exhausting [Thing Y] is.
- Finishing a bunch of big operations and realizing that I didn’t know how to feel celebratory about this.
- I have tights and they sparkle and I think they might be magic. I am wearing them right now and they are making all the things better.
- Being called the wrong name for the last time. Three times in a week, but for the last time.
- Friday night.
- Following a strong instinctive pull that lead to an entire trail of these that resulted in a series of wonderful things.
- Dance. Every day.
- Bounce bounce.
- When I woke up at 2am, I rearranged my old office. De-cobwebbing superpowers activate!
- Being told that I look like Kim Basinger. Which I’m pretty sure I don’t. But I so appreciate a boy at a bar using a reference someone from my generation can recognize.
- Twenty one days until I’m off to the Vicarage.
- Sending out the surprise ebook for the class on TIME.
- The class on TIME.
- YAY TRUCKS.
- Words with Wally. Creme de la creme.
- “You can dance if you want to / you can leave your friends behind”
- Watching the Clippers beat the Lakers. They just barely squeaked by but they did maintain the lead the entire time.
- Problem-solving. And then it turned out they weren’t even problems. Uh huh.
- A spectacularly great hair day.
- I am looking forward to so many things! Including tonight and the Vicarage and something happening next January and seeing Kyle on Sunday. I hardly ever look forward to things. This is new and fun!
- All the progress on the secret ops. Including Toozday when I had seven operations all going at once and six were taken care of…
- Eddie helped me plan a slide.
- Two different fake beach days, one of them under the stars.
- My favorite uncle (and person) showed up in town! And stayed with me.
- I got to show three different people around Stompopolis this week (“Look at my baby!!!!”) and it was magical.
- Delicious Iraqi food and great company. Also I finally got to meet Carl the Dog.
- My cousin Noah lives in Portland now and we are practically neighbors and he is great.
- Playdates for writing.
- The phrase “Turn music into lace.”
- Lots of useful processing.
- The monkey.
And the best-best thing ever!
A gorgeous surprise bouquet of flowers showed up mysteriously on my porch yesterday.
It came with a secret-agent-code note and turned out to be from a group of Floopers who have (secretly!) banded together to get me months and months of flowers. I feel all the feelings: Astonished! Delighted! Appreciative! Adored!
This combines my three favorite things in the world: being a spy, letting flowers make things better (transforming space), and knowing that I am appreciated. I am bouncing around my house delightedly right now. THE BEST!
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed this week:
The phrase Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom is secret agent code that means: this op is done, baby! It is often shortened to WHAM boom.
B-bop Mission Melon Wham boom!
Operation Watchcap Wham boom!
Stompitty Yay: Operation Name Bells Wham boom!
Operation Secret Letter Wham boom!
The 7? Red Rose Missive Wham boom!
The 7? Visions Wham boom!
Operation Try Ribbons (Milliner II) Wham boom!
Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom! Wham Boom! Wham Boom!
You may also shout (or whisper) other joyous words if you like.
A superpower I had this week…
The superpower of sitting next to exactly the right person in the exact right moment.
And a superpower I want next week.
The superpower of celebrating a thing that is finished.
Really and truly feeling it. Not just nodding and moving on to the next thing. Not dismissing it as a drop in the bucket. Really appreciating that I worked hard: movement is happening, even if I can’t see it or feel it.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band showed up in the ebook I wrote for the TIME class.
Special Monster Appendix.
Mmhmmm. Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
If you want payment options, they happen through the Dolphin Adoption Agency.
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.
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