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.
Talking it out.
I had worries and I said them out loud, and it was okay. Better than okay.
Remembering that it’s not a disaster, it’s a mystery.
And everything I learn in the process of investigating this mystery is useful information.
Following instinct and being ballsy about it.
Bond Girl wants to go to [x place]? Go.
Bond Girl wants to do something scary-brave without even thinking about it because she is so clear that this is the right thing? Why not.
This week Bond Girl called the shots, and it was amazing. All the parts that were less-than-amazing happened when I stopped trusting the pull or wasn’t quiet enough to feel it.
Bond Girl wants a double compass too. Here is the new one for Operation B.O.N.D.G.I.R.L.
Boldly Orchestrating New Delights. Glowing Into Real Light.
Letting Bond Girl pick my outfits.
She gets turned on by clothing in a way I didn’t even know was possible.
And she’s wildly creative, even when working with limited offerings. She pulls outfits together and: wow. I didn’t know my closet could do things like that. Kind of in shock, actually.
Next time I might…
Pause. Pause. Pause.
Pause and instincts are not contradictory, they are deeply interrelated.
This is another thing I am learning from this Year of Emptying And Replenishing.
Be true to Putterday! Long live Putterday!
For the past few weeks I have been skipping Putterday, because of Doing All The Projects. And the projects feel a lot more urgent than Putterday.
But then they don’t really get done.
Yesterday I gave myself the gift of Putterday, and suddenly with all that clear space and zooming-moving-around new energy, I wanted to be with the projects again. Putterday is soothing and restorative for me. Sometimes. That goes into the Book of Havi.
Things I found challenging (and mysterious!).
- Big work happening on the roof of the building where Stompopolis and the Playground live. They’re replacing all the sheet metal on the roof and it is NOISY AS **** and I hate it.
- So we were half-closed this week and that felt vulnerable and scary.
- Oh man there are a lot of ops.
- Someone (me) vastly underestimated how much time it takes to edit a 200 page ebook.
- According to the monsters, I need at least a hundred magical badgers to help me sort out Operation What Is Happening With All The Ops.
- The day I forgot my earphones. I hadn’t realized how much I depend on that buffer, or how unbearably noisy the world is.
- Twisting my ankle.
- St. Patrick’s Day. Do not pinch me, do not kiss me, do not make assumptions about me because I have red hair and green eyes. I have stuff about this holiday.
- How is it almost pesach? What is happening?!
- When people in my life need (or think they need) things from me that I can’t give them.
- When people in my life think that I am the unique delivery system for [love/companionship/thing they want], and not understanding that everything in the world can deliver qualities. Truth: the ability to receive qualities is not about any one person.
- Related: As Agent A (our Man in Marin) says, trying to explain TRUTH is like trying to email a haircut.
- Being around distortions of truth.
- Desiring more spaciousness.
- Hello, pain from then. There is so much of you!
- The longer I live in silence, the more I notice unsovereign behavior, and the less willing I am to put up with it.
- The night of no sleep and then terrifying nightmares.
- And then being so out of it that I left my bag on the bus.
Things I found delightful.
- Thinking, “I want someone to notice this beautiful outfit that Bond Girl cobbled together out of instinct and magic!” And immediately after having this thought, a guy on the street said: “Can I just say, that is a terrific outfit.”
- Went to see live music and didn’t spend the whole time thinking about my friend who is dead. I mean, I thought about him, obviously. But it didn’t take over the experience.
- The Timbers match. Seattle away. The glorious game-tying Rodney Wallace goal in the 90th minute. Wow wow wow wow.
- Watching the match at 442 with the adorable rowdy inebriated puppies from 103 Ballistic. See also: This week’s Fake Band Of The Week.
- Someone didn’t say hi to me, and this particular not-saying-hi of the not-hi was so loud that I had to find out what was going on, and doing this was the best thing I have ever done, possibly ever-ever-ever.
- The day I left my purse on the bus was the same day that wallet, keys and phone were in my jacket.
- Guess what? MIRACLES. See: miracles.
- Secret flower delivery.
- In my nightmare, dream-me managed to practice a technique/approach I’ve been working on in real life! And noticed she was doing it. And was happy about that even though everything (in the dream) was awful.
- The moment about five minutes after I woke up when I finally realized it had been a dream. Delirious joy.
- Comfort on the hard day from housemate and playmate and Replacement Agent E.
- Playmate: “I love it when you want things.” Possibly the most healing thing anyone has said to me. I cried for an hour while this rewrote my entire life. Thank you, day of hard that lead to this.
- Open tabs down from 69 to 5. Because the Floop is magic.
- Being in a state that feels like being under a spell but is not a spell. There is magic in the air, and it is so impossibly sweet.
- Being at Stompopolis every day and the way it smells like love and possibility.
- I told someone about [traumatic scary thing], not sure how this person would react, and now I’m really glad I did.
- A conflict showed up with a stone, and I asked for it to resolve itself peacefully. And then it did.
- Talking things out with playmate showed me all the old pain from then about Amsterdam and all of it, and then I realized how lucky I am to be here now and know what I know now.
- Glass Shoestrings with the debut album Magical Kingdom. Opening act: The Shy Smiles. The 2014 Tour that doesn’t exist, because none of this exists, but all of it made me happy and this week there was a lot of happy.
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.
Mission: Operation Twiceover Wham boom!
Operation Putterday Wham boom!
The Great Closing Of The Tabs Wham boom!
Contact Contact. Wham boom!
Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom! Wham Boom! Wham Boom!
You may also shout (or whisper) other joyous words if you like.
When I left my bag on the bus, I did not freak out. Miracle.
I used the secret mantra of Everything That Is Mine Returns To Me.
I followed an intuitive hit to take an evening dance class that I never, ever, ever take. Then set off with full confidence that I would make the bus even though it was supposed to arrive in two minutes and it takes seven to get to the stop. Made the bus.
It was the SAME BUS. Bus driver had my bag, waiting for me. The end.
A superpower I had this week…
Surprising Unexpected Boldness. Courage and fearlessness that was playful, strong, present and alive.
And a superpower I want next week.
Remembering that everything radiates delight if I pay attention.
Actually, everything radiates everything, whatever I need is there in some form.
So: the superpower of being quiet and steady enough to know this and feel it.
Proxy of the week.
I am not ready to get the beer out of my hair. This is me, with beer in my hair. What do I know about that?
Typos of the week, freudian or otherwise.
Love you, autocorrect. You speak a creepy truth.
- Ohio! and then Pho! I was trying to write “Oho!”, something I say all the time.
- “We lock up gamers.” For the record I do not lock up gamers. The phone is having trouble believing that hametz is a word.
Salve of the week. Yours if you want it.
This salve has tiny little seeds of Truth inside of it, so throughout the day you remember how adored and loved you truly are, and how strong you are, and how all feelings are legitimate. And how comfort and support are everywhere.
It’s in a compass case that you can wear as a necklace or slip into your pocket.
These salves can’t be seen, but the production factory has delivered enough to me to distribute by way of the magic of the internet, so help yourself. There is enough.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is a direct description of my hilarious experience of watching the Timbers match with the boys of 103.
101 Dalmatians and the Testosterone Jungle
They’re loud and messy and you will end up with beer in your hair, and the ineffectual but effusive apologies for that will be just as entertaining as the rest of it.
They play all night and they turn it up to 11. And of course, it’s just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
Announcements coming soon.
In the meantime, I’ll say it again. The Monster Manual & Coloring Book. I live by this, and it’s why the mysteries and challenges of the week don’t get me down.
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.