Friday chickenWhere I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.

It is Friday and we are here.

With the glorious (glorrrrrrrrrrrious!) return of the wham boom.

What worked?

Change your place, change your luck.

As we always say at Rally (Rally!). It works.

Switching chairs at the cafe. Noticing when I am physically uncomfortable.

“Let’s not make assumptions, my love.”

This was my guiding phrase this week.

It was way harder to live by than I’d anticipated, but it was incredibly useful.

I spent the entire week noticing my assumptions and dropping assumptions.

I don’t know what this person’s experience is, I don’t know what this person’s story is, I am not going to assume.

It was like a secret compassion practice, a secret thankfulness practice. Noticing where I assume, pausing with love, not assuming.

And since the thing I hate the most is when other people make assumptions about me, it felt like I was giving a tiny gift to myself and everyone I met.

Next time I might…

Not go to brunch.

There should be an entire chapter in the Book of Havi about not going to brunch. Going to brunch is, for some reason, for a million reasons, never the right decision (for me, other people can go to brunch as often as they want), but I did it anyway.

More entry for the transition.

More time noticing-in-advance: what my expectations are, what I desire and what about it is important to me.

Eight breaths of hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. Coming back from my two week writing retreat, and how hard it is to step back into daily life. A breath for that.
  2. Coming back to an avalanche of work. That’s what it felt like, slipping and sliding and being carried away in a terrifying rush.
  3. While I was away I wrote every day, napped every day, walked every day, had yoga every day. I promised myself I would bring these back, even if just for tiny ten minute tastes. Of course they did not happen. Work happened. A breath for desire and integration.
  4. Hard homecoming. I hadn’t realized how attached I was to being met a certain way (excitement! adoration!) until I came back and turned on my phone and ran into someone else’s stuff. A breath for not getting what you expected.
  5. Oh man, PTSD-triggered so hard Wednesday morning. I read a tiny book review, half a page, in O Magazine, which I don’t read often but seems like a safer place to read a book review than, say, the New Yorker, and oh, man. That was at 8 am, and suddenly it was an hour later and I was still sitting on on my bed, deep in dark thoughts and pain. The problem with trauma (hahaha, that phrase, yes, there are problems with trauma), is that you can get thrown so easily. A breath for uncomfortable suddenness, and a safe room.
  6. Big emotions. Shame. Hurt. A difficult decision. A breath for releasing.
  7. Expectations, again, mine and other people’s. A breath for letting go of everything that I do not need to carry or hold onto.
  8. Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. The hard homecoming turned into the Most Beautiful Homecoming when an Agent, who knows that flowers make everything better, showed up to meet me with two dozen roses and a notebook (I love notebooks). A breath for sweetness and good surprises.
  2. I found two new great spots to write in! A breath for expansiveness and possibility.
  3. Being madly adored. A breath for how wonderful this feels right now and what a big deal it is that I am able to let myself receive it.
  4. It is fall! And fall means we can close the windows and not hear the endless screaming tantrums of the three year old next door. Well, we can still hear but it’s less intense. A breath for the blessed quieting of noise!
  5. Writing writing writing writing! So much writing. A breath for appreciating this.
  6. Despite the ptsd trigger, I still managed a full day of focused, productive work. Two years ago that would have been a lost day. A breath for movement and moving forward.
  7. Maybe the happiest moment of this week for me was sending out a new to the people in the Year of Emptying And Replenishing. Wham boom!
  8. The glorious return of the wham boom! So many ops. So many things done. So much progress. Wham-freaking-boom.

WHAM BOOM! Operations completed:

The phrase Whoosh Ha Mastodon Boom is secret agent code that means: this thing is done! It is often shortened to wham-boom. You may also shout (or whisper) other joyous words if you like.

Operation State of Grace
Loved Little Thing, Take 1
Mission W.H.A.M.
Operation Chicken Has Wings
Operation Decorate The Cupcake
Operation Activate Flow Chart
Operation Love The House (That Jack Built)
Operation Afterparty aka the Great Unpacking



A superpower I had this week…

Ooh, some great superpowers this week. Like the superpower of not getting thrown by someone else’s stuff (I only had this once, but it was pretty great). And the superpower of recognizing that someone else is right and that you’re not ready to hear it, so filing it away for later with love.

I asked for the superpower of “I know what to do to make myself comfortable”, and it worked.

And a superpower I want next week.

The superpower of knowing — really and truly knowing — that seemingly conflicting desires are not in conflict at all. I can have ritual and adventure. I can train for the Olympics and not care about them. That’s a proxy.


The salve of Everything Is Slightly Better Now.

This salve is exactly what it sounds like: it is subtle, gentle and it is full of kindness. It doesn’t rush you into anything, it just smooths out the edges so you can find your way.


This salve calms the erratic energy of change. Put it on and things are slightly better. Maybe they already were slightly better, and now you can feel it. Or maybe everything is changing at just the right pace. This salve gives me hope.

These salves can’t be seen, but the production factory delivers enough for distribution 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!

Background. Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once invented hanging out at the Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is brought to you by the auto-correct on my phone and it’s called:

Wig Chemistry

I imagine that Wig Chemistry puts on wild shows, with elaborate scenery and many, many costume changes.

And yes. It’s just one guy.

Opening act is Tub Magic, which is how my phone says “you are magic”. Tub Magic, people. Tub Magic.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. ANNOUNCEMENT.

You guys you guys you guys!

There is a Rally (Rally!) happening in TWO WEEKS.

October 1st-4th.

That is really soon, and it is going to be the most amazing Rally because it is part of the Alphabet Carousel, and there are at least eight reasons why Rallies from now on are going to be even better than they used to be (more about that to come).

You should come.

Also if you know people in Portland and you can help spread the word about our Open House for the Red Rose Ballroom, that would be hugely appreciated!

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.

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.