Friday chicken

Where 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.

{a breath for Friday}

What worked?


This week had lots of PTSD triggers for me, and then terrifying nightmares.

I brought back some rituals for entering sleep, and asked the spy who loves me to invent one for me too.

I have no idea what it involved, because all I remember is the thought, “I smell sage, a word that also means wise…”

The next thing I knew, nine hours had passed and it was morning. I couldn’t remember a single dream, and I felt amazing.

No screaming, no waking up at all until sleep was done.


I finished a mission, and didn’t feel ready to tell people about it. Finished the Hat for all the things I’m doing in 2014, and didn’t feel ready to share it. So I waited.

I did a lot of waiting this week, and waiting was the exact right move.

Next time I might…

Trust the waiting.

I had a lot of Stuff (and all the time gremlins) about waiting.

Especially since I know lots of people are waiting for the thing I am not-announcing while I am doing my own waiting.

I knew that this was the right move, and I doubted it at the same time.

And then of course it was.

A wise thing a dance teacher said this week.

Applicable to all of life…

Susan: “Use the floor. Don’t walk on it. Use it. Partner with it.”

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. Waking up screaming. Nightmares and more nightmares. A breath for release and remembering that now is not then. And: A breath for not taking on the pain of the world.
  2. The Spy Who Loves Me was super in his stuff this week, and we had two nights of painful misunderstandings. A breath for presence and love.
  3. This whole letting go of W is still a lot of work. A breath for process.
  4. The spy who loves me threw a (metaphorical) shoe while he was feeling upset. A breath for loving someone while not putting up with shoes.
  5. Someone at the Floop had a shoe-throwing fit too, which is completely incongruent with the culture. Pretty tired of that thing when, in reaction to my intentional avoidance of pedestals, someone tries to simultaneously put me on one and knock me off. A breath for compassionate powerful boundaries.
  6. Deep indecision, which turned out to be a very clear decision that I didn’t want to see. A breath for change, and for trusting that All Timing Is Right Timing…
  7. Sexist bullshit driving me crazy this week, and in the unlikeliest places. I was at a dance class this week where the teacher (a woman, about my age), taught a move in Foxtrot by saying, “Ladies, imagine there is a shoe sale in the far corner, now point your head that way as the lead swivels you and say oh look a shoe sale, now come back the other way and ask the man for his credit card.” SERIOUSLY, YOU GUYS. A breath for astonishment, and for hope.
  8. Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. Lots of healing, and then two consecutive nights of sweet deep sleep. A breath for transition.
  2. When the spy who loves me was in his stuff, I knew it was not about me and did not make it about me. I let him be in his stuff, and I met it with love, and I was also clear about what is not okay. A breath for advanced practice.
  3. When the person in the Floop was in his stuff, I knew it was not about me and did not take it personally. I was also able to observe the skills my community has gained, as well as some pieces of practice that aren’t in place yet, which helps me make changes for next year. A breath for the teaching and the learning, and for gifts that don’t look like gifts.
  4. Dance dance dance dance dance! I skipped a samba class I didn’t want, and took the class I wanted instead. All my classes this week (with the exception of Crazy Sexist Foxtrot) were thoroughly enjoyable. A breath for dance solving everything, just like Incoming Me said it would.
  5. I edited and edited and edited, and got the Hat down to 1000 words, exactly. A breath for my smile when that happened.
  6. A huge realization about being Held, and that I am always Held. That it doesn’t matter if I set off on the voyage before having Solved All The Problems, because I am Held, and I have companions to help solve them with me. A breath for joyful laughter.
  7. So much delight this week. Secret spirals at Rally, with impossible choreographies. Texting with my former Partner In Crime in California. A breath for feeling safe and loved.
  8. This week is Rally (Rally!), and I had so many marvelous epiphanies and huge results. A breath for fractal flowers.

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.

My op this week was Operation Ready The Hat, and I nailed it.

Plus new events now happening at my ballroom.



Powers I had this week…

I had some more fire snake superpowers this week, and the superpower of Deeply Knowing That This Is Not About Me.

Superpowers I want.

Setting Boundaries Is Fun.


The salve of clean, clear healthy boundaries.

This salve softens rules. It infuses your space with protection. It makes the edges glow in such a way that you know where they are. It sets up a force field that lets in beautiful qualities, in just the right amount, and it doesn’t let in anything that doesn’t need to be there.

It is comfortable and comforting, at the same time. You put it on, and you perceive that you have more space. You have the superpower of Distinctions: this, not that. You have the superpower of trusting your edges, of taking up as much space as you need.

It suddenly occurs to you (and everyone else) that your space should be respected. Because it should.

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.

If you are not a salve person (today or in general), you can have this in tea form, pill form, as a bath, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.

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 from Vanessa:

Kazoo Fueled Riot.

It’s a cello band, actually. And it is just one guy.

Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.

I am so happy to let you know about Operation Sustenance, which holds everything I will be offering in 2014.

Password: fredastaire

Invitations for Operation Wings will be extended next week, and you can upgrade from Operation Keys if you like.

Come play if you like…

Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us say hi, or maybe we’re on silent retreat. My ritual doesn’t have to be your ritual. Whatever works for you. Almost three hundred weeks of this and there still isn’t a right way.

Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We don’t give advice.

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 you like, it’s no big deal. And I am blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers. I love that you are here too.