hing X seemed like a great thing to want, because it was not at all dependent on other people or technology or anything else. It was a thing I could do — and wanted to do — for myself. With ease. All that was needed was for me to agree to set aside an hour for it.

And then I didn’t. And then I did.

But due to tired-induced zombie-state, I messed up one tiny thing while preparing for Thing X that resulted in NO THING X AT ALL FOR ME.

This was the moment at which I discovered just how attached I am to Thing X, and to the happening of Thing X. And to specifics. Nothing could be substituted. Only Thing X would do.

(The Vicarage = two whole weeks of glorrrrious silent retreat, which means both that I will be on silent retreat and also I am silent-retreating about what this is).

Nine days is not a lot of days. And there are a lot of things that want to happen inside of those days.

I would like some kind of map. Mainly I would like to feel delightfully calm about everything. Calm and present, not calm-and-drifting. Calm and right here with all of it.

Fake Beach Day is great while it’s happening, except then the end gets all stressful and not-fun.

This time Danielle and I went to the Barefoot Sage and ended Fake Beach Day with foot soak and foot massage.

It held the magic of actually going to the beach: Tranquility. Expansiveness. Spaciousness. Ritual. Grounding. Freedom. Lightheartedness. And feeling stones and water under your feet.

The qualities inside of the want:

Resonance. Grounded enthusiasm. Welcoming. Belonging. Receptivity. Presence. Radiance. Steadiness. Continuity. Rejuvenation. Regeneration. Sustenance. Trust. Sun.

And the superpower of letting things harmonize through music. Harmonies!

Wow. So Operation CAKEWALK was a smashing success. Also I forgot to give credit to Kyle for the name, which was part of what made it such a great operation to begin with. I loved it.

Operation Four on the Floor was much more challenging than expected. BUT. I wrote a forty page ebook. So that was pretty great.

Also all my tiny-asks came true, including more people to play with on our facebook page and also remembering the compass (I remembered at exactly the right moment too).

I am pleased to report that this week a wide variety of perfect simple solutions showed up when they were needed. Also this week I said the following thing and it one hundred percent made sense:

I am off to rendezvous with a representative of the Magical Badger Brigade. He’s part of the Order of the Red Flashlight! It’s all very exciting and hush-hush. By jove, if that’s not the real hanky panky! That’s how you do it in the Bengal Lancers!

And since I can only work on the part that is mine, I would like to undo whatever relationship I have with drama.

I want to release any need I have in any part of my life to have things be fraught or tempestuous. I want to commit to living my life in an environment where the people around me automatically, as a matter of course, turn inward and work on their stuff when there is stuff.

Enough with the stirring up. We choose quiet sitting instead.

What worked?

Tiny changes that are actually big changes.

I suddenly remembered again that transforming space (internal or external, doesn’t matter) changes everything.

And then I was able to let small changes become big changes.

Found a new (but it’s actually old, I’ve had this for years!) cover for the couch in my kitchen, and now everything is beautiful! And red!

So I hid in a cafe and held Beach Day there. Built some invisible sandcastles.

And I met two lovely people who reminded me, accidentally, about the importance of adding alligators. When in doubt, just throw in an alligator. Everything is better when you add alligators.

What this means (to me, right now) is this: how can something that I’m currently taking way too seriously become a little more lighthearted and playful?

So I want to remember this question over the coming week and beyond. And I want to apply alligators to some things that feel stuck.