What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

Two Parts Miserable to One Part Hope

Story hour

This is the story of the conundrum of Two Parts Miserable to One Part Hope, and I don’t even know how to tell it.

It’s a bizarre, frustrating, unexpected phenomenon that is maybe new to me (I think), and what happened is that I had this day last Sunday when I just magically got all my major life wishes related to daily life, and still felt sad?

In other words, I was able to go right to bobcat time (floor movement, yoga) without pacing or crying or checking email/blog comments or other forms of pellet pushing. And then I just quietly, peacefully enjoyed a few hours of movement time, with all the things I want and love, in the way I always want to be, aka FOCUSED and PRESENT, and not resisting it the entire way.

Then I made a delicious meal and journaled a thousand words! Then, completely unprompted, I just tried out one of the recipes I’ve been threatening to try for weeks, and emptied my inbox, and didn’t even open my phone.

So basically a DREAM LIFE day for me, and a dream life day in general, this is all my wishes coming true! And for reasons I cannot explain, I guess I had been operating under the assumption this whole time that if I somehow could make all these things happen instead of spending my time pacing, crying and pellet-pushing for affection and attention, that I would feel…happy????!?!?!?!

I DON’T KNOW, apparently they’re not connected!!! It’s weird.

Obviously I’m grateful that all these wished-for things happened after months/years of wishing for them, and also my mood is exactly the same as it was before: Two Parts Miserable to One Part Hope.

This is a baffling situation and I don’t really know what to do with it yet other than observe it, and confirm with all of my friends that they too experience the same. It turns out my wishes weren’t happiness-related. I still like them and wish them and want more of them, and also they don’t do the thing I somehow thought they would.

Anyway, I shall talk this over with my Incoming Selves and Assorted Projects at the next Monday Meeting, maybe we can find ways to amplify the hopefulness! Maybe some day soon I will discover that I have many parts hope, and fewer experiences of misery.

And in the meantime I am focusing on ritual. Speaking of rituals, take a look at these!

Weekend Check-in, we made it.

Reviewing the week aka Chicken/Check-in is not only a reassuring ritual and fun to say, but another form of remembering, turning inward with attentiveness.

We can name what was difficult and name what worked, I find naming therapeutic. What am I experiencing and how am I experiencing it? All intel is useful.

Mainly we’re here to take a breath for having made it here. High fives all around and hand-to-heart appreciation.

If I neglect to name something big in the world, could be ADHD but also I’m keeping myself on this extended news break after spiraling hard.

Breathing for what was hard, challenging, uncomfortable, not fun…

Still in no particular order this week because it all feels equally weighted to me right now, for sure some things are harder than others but I am perceiving them all as last straw material.

This week or so has mostly been a dumpster fire, but maybe that’s because I am so completely at the end of my capacity for anything, pushed beyond.

I am in a lot of pain, emotional and physical, and I don’t know, existential, I guess, maybe that’s the wrong move. Things are shifting and I have not found ground yet, so just waiting it out but the it is a storm, and I am in it.

Meanwhile, there is such painful news, and so much of it, so much at stake, so much nefariousness by design.

A pause for breaths in recognition of the devastating truth that the there is no justice, more particularly that the justice system in the United States does not exist in service of justice, that if any of our systems valued black lives at all, we wouldn’t even be holding these grim depressing trials, or in the ongoing awfulness of these regular, agonizingly familiar recurring incidents of state-sanctioned murder of black people by the police. Lighting candles for Daunte Wright and George Floyd, while knowing that this mourning over their stolen lives and these cruel systems is not even a drop in an ocean. Not the grief ocean and not the white supremacy ocean.

This is going to take bigger sorcery and the collective, and even then, I just don’t know.

May all these interrelated corrupt and oppressive systems dissolve/implode, may I find new ways to work against them even as I cup the flame of awareness that I absolutely uphold them in my life and benefit from them, that this is the way the whole thing is set up.

It’s a lot, huh. It’s not the weekend, but I’m here now.

What else has been going on since we last chickened a chicken-check-in here?

My week went to packing, cleaning and moving again. I am tired and burnt out, sorrowful, distracted, overwhelmed, and desperately need to land somewhere. Also I threw my car keys in the trash. Not on purpose. I’m just exhausted.

Meanwhile, I continue to be baffled, constantly, by what I have been calling The Great Glossing Over, as more and more businesses are like, “hey y’all we’re open!” or “come to our conference!”

Not sure exactly what I expected, but a) this is all too soon, and b) where is the acknowledgment for what we just went through? Two and a half million people died?! And that was unnecessary, awful and preventable, and the rest of us went through, wow, what is it now, fourteen months of terrified hiding and strategizing, just trying to keep some hope alive through all the loss, and now we’re just going to be like, OH YAY PARTY? Thanks, I hate it.

Once I have my second vaccination shot (two weeks from today!), and two more weeks have passed, there are definitely experiences I am intently looking forward to, but I don’t know how to interact with the people who lived a different reality, or who want to pretend that everything is fine. The Great Glossing Over is not for me.

Related: I read an interesting article about a skier/mountain climber, and it casually mentioned that he had spent the winter in the Alps and various other places, and that the ski season was altered by Covid, but at no point did they ask this guy, “Hey how did you justify these choices, why did you choose to fly around the world for your hobby during a terrifying global pandemic?”, and I think it’s just gonna be like that. No questions asked.

I have not been sleeping well, or much. I have been forgetting to feed myself or reluctant to take care of myself, maybe that’s a better way of putting it.

Today I ran into the person who isn’t talking to me (haha there are really enough people in this category in this city at this point that I should probably be more specific, I meant the one I am in a heartache over), and we had an awesome fight on the sidewalk. Which I guess is better than wondering why they won’t respond to me? No, I still hate this. No more mysterious disappearances, I can’t take it anymore.

There’s a Ronit Shahar song (in Hebrew), where she says, “I’ve noticed the way situations of a broken heart are bad for me, the way they remind me of you who wanted-maybe, and of myself, who wanted so badly.” Anyway, I am very much in the Situations of A Broken Heart Reminding Me phase of things.

My list of things that need doing is long, and my focus is non-existent. Then I made the terrible mistake of googling fatigue, and oh wow, never do that! ALL THE ADVICE IS UNBELIEVABLY BAD and extremely not useful or helpful.

I want to be cherished, protected, loved, cared for, considered, taken into consideration, and it just seems like I am really getting to learn about the opposite of these. It is still my job to do them, but it would be nice to have these reflected to me as well.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

Miracles abound.

The mechanic situation from last week is solved: he’s going to lend me a car.

The where to live after this weekend is solved, a blessing.

The what to do about my storage unit is solved, another surprise miracle.

And new options are showing up for where to park the trailer.

Starting to think that the less I do, the more is solved. May it be so.

Also we are working on a new way to have emoji on the blog, in progress, and Huge thank you to Richard, who has really put in the hours investigating this and dealing with a hundred help-chats!

What else?

I found a way to get excited about sun salutations again, by mixing two lucky words in with each compass round of eight words to create rounds of word-poetry, and it feels so good.

After over a year of having no one to talk to, I had THREE CONVERSATIONS THIS WEEK, and admittedly, one of them was a fight, but hey, human interaction, I will take it.

Also a very attractive stranger flirted with me, and then immediately parkour-hopped a fence with no hands in a way that seemed fully miraculous, so maybe all this spring newness energy happening in these parts is a good thing too.

Truly so much good fortune in my life, I am lucky, even when I forget how lucky I am.

Intuition was a big deal this week, and while it’s kind of a blessing/curse as a theme right now, I’m not putting it in the hard column this week. I heard what I heard, and followed the threads, I acted in integrity, based on the information received, took the next indicated steps, and it was all extremely correct.

Thank you to Laura for getting me to make rosemary parsley pesto with dandelion greens, it was very delicious, and thank you to Amye, I made a grapefruit ginger shrub that is amazing. Honestly I think cooking shows are keeping me going these days, even though I do not currently have a kitchen.

Lots of music, brief walks in the sun, sparks of hope, renewal, remember to slow it down and get on the floor.

Even on the hardest days, I am whispering kind words (and if I can’t, then I just say HEY BABE WE ARE TRYING AND I WILL PROTECT YOU AS BEST AS I CAN), I am wrapping myself up in love, I am practicing tenderness, emptying, wild self-treasuring, self-cherishment, being the one who protects & cherishes, being the one who always has time for me, always has a compassionate word, always remembers that I am worthy of all this and more.

Still welcoming solutions that hold me in High Regard, inviting in new and better, in all forms. I’m sure there is more good in my life than what I am able to remember in the moment, can I trusting in the seeds and the gestation, in what I cannot yet see. Can I find some relief and joy in being alive.

I have many idea-sparks for future retreats and rallies, in various forms, once the grieving periods have had a chance to be what they need to be, and once we ease into new paths, but it’s exciting to feel hopeful again.

Thank you again so much to everyone who sent me surprise Appreciation Money this week via Barrington’s Discretionary, it is always welcome and received with love, and if I can land in a place, which is the wish-goal of wish-goals, I can share more writing here, that’s my preferred way to fill time; writing and hopeful thoughts.

Play with me in the comments! You know the drill…

I love company! You can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing. I still have not figured out how to get emoji to work in the comments, sorry!!

How are we holding up? Ramadan Mubarak to anyone who is

Anything hard and/or good in your week that you want to name here? Sometimes naming helps. I have found for me that taking breaths while I name things helps a lot.

And if that’s not your thing, you can say hi or name something you’d like more of for the coming week.

Love ya,
Havi

uncharted vs fire goddess energy (a check-in)

League of Assassins, call me (story hour)

Okay but before story hour, I need to share a clue with you that I got during a zoom workshop I attended on the history of dance (1950s-1970s), with the amazing Richard Powers.

He said: “The tempo is NEVER WRONG! We are probably just doing the wrong thing to it…”

So yeah, that’s basically the hard & good of my week — and possibly my year — right there. Anyway, the tempo isn’t wrong. Okay, onward to the league of assassins.

Many thousands of repetitions: practice practice practice

Some of you may remember that when quarantine started, I decided to add one sun salutation a day to my already-a-lot of daily sun salutations, aka playful anger management aka #bicepsforthecollective.

The idea was to imagine keeping RBG alive, with extra strength and powers. Ah, remember the days when we still had hopefulness about things, that was a different time huh.

Anyway, time has moved on, and by October I was the angriest I have ever been, and could not stop sundulating (undulating sun salutations), which is how I wound up at 5,000.

Then 6,000 in November, 7,000 in December, 8,000 in January, 9,099 for February. It’s kind of the only consistent thing these days. So as we find ourselves in April, you might be wondering if I nailed 10,000 in March.

Except I went a little wild, not sure how else to put it, and bumped it up 13,000, GO BIG OR GO HOME, because I got to a point where symbolic incremental progress was not doing it for me anymore.

Still waiting for that invitation from the League of Assassins, ready for whatever division they need me in, though they know which job I’m applying for. Thirteen thousand. Be impressed, League of Asssasins, and call me!

Am I going to go hard in April? Maybe. So far I’ve mostly been rolling around on the floor and crying and/or pacing angrily, but who can say. Calling in some ARIES FIRE WARRIOR GODDESS ENERGY, and no promises because each day is new and who knows what tomorrow me will choose, but let’s see what happens.

Weekend Check-in, we made it.

Reviewing the week aka Chicken/Check-in is not only a reassuring ritual and fun to say, but another form of remembering, turning inward with attentiveness.

We can name what was difficult and name what worked, I find naming therapeutic. What am I experiencing and how am I experiencing it? All intel is useful.

Mainly we’re here to take a breath for having made it here. High fives all around and hand-to-heart appreciation.

If I neglect to name something big in the world, could be ADHD but also I’m keeping myself on this extended news break after spiraling hard.

Breathing for what was hard, challenging, uncomfortable, not fun…

These are in no particular order this week because they all feel weighted equally to me right now, for sure some are harder than others but I am perceiving them all as last straw material. Things are hard, friends, they just are.

Covid has been a scarring experience, what it has done (to us, as a collective, and what the intensity of isolation has to me, via my mind) is scarring. I am scarred and scared and just undone by this fucking crucible of it all. Oh, and check out this unbearably hopeful article from exactly a year ago today.

The weekend was probably the worst of it for me, but I spent most of this week crying on the floor.

The logistics are too complex, the decisions to be received too many, and I have no clarity, no capacity for receiving information or knowing what to do with it.

I can’t drive with expired plates because I can’t afford the ticket, but I can’t renew them without driving to New Mexico, and I can’t do that without seeing my mechanic first, and I can’t do that, because I don’t know anyone who would go with me and wear a mask, and it is too hot to sit in my mechanic’s backyard all day.

Everything is uncharted, unknown, these waters are not familiar, who knows where or how any of this ends, but I need someone to talk me into staying with it, and I don’t have anyone to talk to.

My heart is broken, and I am just so bored of being this sad.

My brain doesn’t work, and I am tired of everything it takes to focus the tiniest amount to make even one small thing happen, and then that One Small Thing begets an impossible lists of other things. I didn’t have much executive function to speak of before this, but I am lost and flailing now in entirely new ways.

And, as we talk about every week, I am exhausted from the disconnect between my perception of reality and my wish to be protected and cherished, for my life to be valued by others as much (or ideally more) as I value it, versus the way everyone else is acting (like lives are expendable, and whatever, no big deal, death happens), this perception mismatch is so dissonant and overwhelming that I don’t know how to cope. None of this is new, it just feels intensified.

I miss conversation so much versus I just don’t know how I will be able to make polite conversation when we are past this, with the yoga studio owners who stayed open, the teachers who kept teaching in person (and posting pics of their new hairstyles), the float tank places that kept bookings open and sent an email saying the staff had decided that wearing masks was not their thing, the dance groups that held “mask optional” dance nights, and on and on.

Arizona is re-opening, bars are open, no more mask mandates, so many more people are going to die, and it is so tragic and unnecessary and awful. And so many other people aren’t going to have the hard conversations because they just want to be Switzerland, and THERE IS NO SWITZERLAND HERE, I would be shouting, if I had anyone to talk to and could get off my floor.

I said this before and it’s still true, in too many ways: I trust no one, and am constantly bewildered to discover how many people I think of or thought of as friends seemingly are not particularly concerned with life, with my life, with sustaining life at all, to the extent that we can.

And I am sorry to report that after spending both more time and money than I wanted to on trying to solve the mystery of how to get emoji to show up on the blog and in comments, no one knows how to solve it, so SHRUG EMOJI, sorry about that, I’m out of options.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

I feel incredibly fortunate to be in mostly good health right now, a reprieve from chronic pain stuff, just so lucky in so many ways, a breath for this amazing good fortune.

Scary dermatologist appointment was fine, everything is benign, I am safe, and nothing to worry about. Let’s exhale again for that one.

My friends have been so great at making me laugh by text and sending me ridiculous memes, and generally not judging any aspect of how hard I’m falling apart but just glowing more love and understanding for me.

Someone who attended a retreat with me in North Carolina in 2010 made it her life mission to get me a vaccine appointment, and she made it happen for me in a day after I had had zero luck finding anything anywhere in Arizona or New Mexico. It was five hours of driving and every moment of that was worth it. Darcy, I cannot thank you enough, truly truly thank you for getting me there. Blessing is not even a big enough word.

Hot tub night under the stars didn’t deliver the clarity I was hoping for, but it felt great, and the more experiences of Feeling Great I can layer on right now, the better.

A solution I was hoping for re a place to stay fell through, and I had to act carefree about it because that’s the only approach. Can I be carefree about it? I don’t know yet.

I have been getting things done, despite my total inability to focus, by dividing my time into Iguana Liberation Front (tiny steps to get things off the list), Congruencing (making my space harmonious) and Dance Breaks. And while it all still feels hopeless and Sisyphean, I probably got more things done in the past two weeks than in all of pandemic, so that’s something, and my criticism monsters can GO HYDRATE.

Listening to Valerie June sing Only A Fool because it’s the most relevant heartbreak song of all time. And this song is what got me to my vaccine appointment and back, yes I listened to this for five hours.

I was expecting the vaccine to mess me up good, because I’m a Highly Sensitive Person and the flu shot usually does a number on me, but didn’t notice anything, and didn’t have the arm/shoulder pain other people have talked about. So that’s the absence of X, and it is hard for me to appreciate things in the category of what-is-not-bad, but I’m trying.

Hopefulness, gratitude, among the tidal waves of grief.

I am making good food, I am wrapping myself up in love, I am practicing tenderness, emptying, wild self-treasuring, self-cherishment, being the one who protects & cherishes, being the one who always has time for me, always has a compassionate word, always remembers that I am worthy of all this and more.

Wise me reminded me that this weekend is the anniversary of two different past Terrible Things, and that even without a pandemic and heartbreak and dying of loneliness, this would probably still be a crying-on-the-floor time, and that’s okay. The tempo is not wrong, the music is not wrong, I just need to adjust how I move to it.

Still welcoming solutions that hold me in High Regard, inviting in new and better, in all forms. I’m sure there is more good in my life than what I am able to remember in the moment, can I trusting in the seeds and the gestation, in what I cannot yet see. Can I find some relief and joy in being alive.

Thank you again so much to everyone who sent me surprise Appreciation Money this week via Barrington’s Discretionary, it is always welcome and received with love, and if I can land in a place, which is the wish-goal of wish-goals, I can share more writing here, that’s my preferred way to fill time; writing and hopeful thoughts.

Play with me in the comments! You know the drill…

I love company! You can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing. I still have not figured out how to get emoji to work in the comments, sorry!!

How are we holding up? Anything hard and/or good in your week that you want to name here? Sometimes naming helps. I have found for me that taking breaths while I name things helps a lot.

And if that’s not your thing, you can say hi or name something you’d like more of for the coming week.

Love ya,
Havi

Seven depressions in a trench coat? (a check-in)

Seven somethings in a trench coat, probably (story hour)

I was journaling about FEELINGS and had the realization that they are all jumbled for me right now:

I think I can’t even differentiate anymore between pandemic depression vs regular depression vs breakup depression vs loneliness depression vs impending summer heat depression vs hopelessness re vaccine depression vs hopelessness re the govt wants us all to die depression SHRUG EMOJI!!!!

And I texted my friend about this, and she said, oh yes, the old seven depressions in a trench coat trick.

This made me laugh, so that’s how I’ve been referring to it and imagining it. Seven depression raccoons standing on top of each other’s furry raccoon shoulders, doing their best impersonation of a person, possibly wearing a top hat or something equally absurd.

And of course, I’m not depressed, which I know, with certainty, because the second I have the opportunity to converse with a human I like, I immediately feel better. And in my experience of depression, it’s not a thing we can generally snap out of the way I snap out of it these days when I get to talk to someone.

So it’s not that I’m depressed so much as that my opportunities to do the depression-ending thing (interact! with a person!) are so limited, due to circumstances, and when I don’t human contact, aka most of the time, the seven raccoons keep me busy with their raccoon shenanigans.

So I’m trying to remember this image, nothing is real, it’s just a gaggle of creative raccoons in a not-even-very-good disguise, and I can laugh about it, which also makes them laugh, and then they topple into a pile, giggling madly at their own ingenuity.

May we all giggle a little at our ingenuity when we can. Survival survival survival. Let’s do this.

Weekend Check-in, we made it.

Reviewing the week aka Chicken/Check-in is not only a reassuring ritual and fun to say, but another form of remembering, turning inward with attentiveness.

We can name what was difficult and name what worked, I find naming therapeutic. What am I experiencing and how am I experiencing it? All intel is useful.

Mainly we’re here to take a breath for having made it here. High fives all around and hand-to-heart appreciation.

If I neglect to name something big in the world, could be ADHD but also I’m keeping myself on this extended news break after spiraling hard.

Breathing for what was hard, challenging, uncomfortable, not fun…

These are in no particular order this week because they all feel weighted equally to me right now, for sure some are harder than others but I am perceiving them all as last straw material.

Got pulled over for expired plates (a problem I can’t solve anyway because of the pandemic), and while I conveniently and fortunately had a mask in my pocket, the police office who stopped me was not masked. IN A PANDEMIC, in a state full of dying people, did I mention that part. So if I die, please seek out Officer Reynolds in Tucson and at the very least make sure the world knows that all blame rests on him.

That is one very small example of the disconnect between my perception of reality and my wish to be protected and cherished, for my life to be valued by others as much (or ideally more) as I value it, versus the way everyone else is acting (like lives are expendable, and whatever, no big deal), this perception mismatch is so dissonant and overwhelming that I don’t know how to cope. None of this is new, it just feels intensified.

Another example: got a phone message from a friend saying he’s out of the country (?!) and flying into Phoenix (?!) tomorrow and do I want to have lunch in Tucson this week (?!?!?!) and, where is the part about keeping me safe, where is the part where I am protected and cherished, where is the part where keeping me alive is a priority?

Another example: a man touched my shoulder to get my attention and tell me his opinions about me, which I do not want, none of that please. But again, even not in a pandemic this is wildly inappropriate behavior, but this is life and death stuff, people. CAN WE FOCUS. On life.

Meanwhile, the selfish governor of Arizona who was first in line for the vaccine has decided that the rest of us can die, and has made mask mandates illegal. That is to say, individual businesses can decide for themselves but cities can no longer make masks a requirement. There are no vaccine appointments available. This is going to be so much uglier than it needed to be. It’s just cartoon-villain levels of cruelty.

I trust no one, and I am constantly bewildered to discover how many people I think of or thought of as friends seemingly are not particularly concerned with life, with my life, with sustaining life at all, to the extent that we can.

And sure, obviously most of [staying alive] is some unknowable combination of luck & magic, generally out of our hands. We don’t control much, and probably less than we think. But I’m pretty sure we could also not fly on planes if it’s not an emergency and we could definitely not go out to lunch. Like, come on, the finish line is in sight, let’s just make it to the next whatever-is-next if we can.

Similarly, my mysterious and confusing fight with the person I used to smile at (from behind a mask, so it’s not even like we could see each other smiling at each other, it was just feeling the smile, and that was both too little and more than enough, awful and sweet, and I miss it, all of it) is unresolved and I don’t see a way out, which is ridiculous but also it is just neutral information that I happen to not like. For whatever reason, this is unresolvable. I hate that, and it also just is.

I did what I could, until I ran out of olive branches to extend, and then I waited for my supply to be replenished, with the knowledge that maybe it won’t be, but at this point I kind of don’t care anymore.

Yeah okay, that’s not true, obviously, I care a lot, but it goes back to the question of what helps me perceive that I am protected and cherished in a relationship, that my safety is paramount. Not this.

I miss live music so much, and maybe that’s a proxy

Does that make sense? I miss live music but missing live music is also a way to be sad about something indirect, something that is not the current sadnesses.

I am awake a lot in the middle of the night. I had a dream and in the dream someone stole all my rings, her name was Lily, I confronted her, and she gave them back angrily but before that happened there was a part that was very threatening, she had the choice to harm me or not, and it took her a while to make up her mind.

I am tired of explaining to people in my life why my safety matters to me, and tired of explaining why no one gets to be Switzerland on the topic of pandemic safety. This is about keeping people alive, and we can argue the small details but we can’t argue the big point anymore.

The iconic Miranda Priestly line from The Devil Wears Prada — “Florals? For Spring? Groundbreaking.” —- feels very relevant to everything. Everything coming my way feels uninspired, and I wish I could explain to the world that it’s okay to take a season off.

It’s the first night of Passover tonight, and it is a lonely meditation on collective liberation.

Someone else wanted to lecture me this week on what is “unhealthy”, and yet again, it is something entirely out of my grasp to change, and yet again, the person doing the unsolicited lecturing is not the expert on what is healthy in general, never mind healthy for me. I am bored. Devote yourself to cherishing & protecting me or gtfo. Trying to live by this myself, and that’s a whole thing too, isn’t it.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

I feel incredibly fortunate to be in good health right now, a breath for this amazing good fortune.

Talked my way out of an expensive ticket, using every ounce of privilege I possess. A breath for that.

More friends getting vaccinated, I feel hopeful and relieved at each shred of good news, may we all be vaccinated speedily and in the best possible circumstances.

The slow motion montage is what it is, but I am no longer in the slog of it. I don’t know that I’m in the fun, uplifting part, but I am just doing the things: taking my vitamins, doing my sun salutations, making sure there is nourishing food for me, keeping phone off, heading to bed early.

Listening to lots of music. Especially concerts, to remember what it is like to sing with other voices. My two favorites right now are this surprisingly cheery love song (in Arabic), and the sweetest and saddest sad-sweet song (in Hebrew), I couldn’t find a video for the version of the concert I’m thinking of, but the point is, I spend a lot of time thinking about the people who were lucky enough to be at these shows, singing their hearts out, in the intensity of the shared moment, knowing what a special moment it was, but not knowing that world would stop.

Have also been listening to Melissa Carper who is basically the queer modern patsy cline I didn’t know I needed? I love her voice and her humor.

Last week I told you that I bought The Cooking Gene by Michael Twitty, I’ve read about sixty pages which is a huge win for me after a year of not having the focus for reading, and it is so beautifully written.

I am finding moments of focus, laughter, joy, pleasure, sometimes in very small ways but they all count, I am wrapping myself up in love, I am practicing, playing, experimenting, taking notes, trying again, living the practice, being the person who knows how to protect and cherish myself at all times, I am wishing my wishes and lighting my candles, and keeping tenderness for myself, holding myself close-close.

And I am reminding myself that so much of this big sadness is not mine, it belongs to the collective, to the swirl, the full moon big feelings, to the past, to the body-memories. I don’t have to carry it all. I only have to be with the part that is mine and right-now.

Still welcoming solutions that hold me in High Regard, inviting in new and better, in all forms.

I’m sure there is more good in my life than what I am able to remember in the moment, but I’m just trying to keep my focus on what’s working, seeding the seeds, trusting in what I cannot yet see.

Thank you again so much to everyone who sent me surprise Appreciation Money this week via Barrington’s Discretionary, it is always welcome and received with love, and if I can land in a place, which is the wish-goal of wish-goals, I can share more writing here, that’s my preferred way to fill time; writing and hopeful thoughts.

Play with me in the comments! You know the drill…

I love company! You can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing. I still have not figured out how to get emoji to work in the comments, sorry!!

How are we holding up? Anything hard and/or good in your week that you want to name here? Sometimes naming helps. I have found for me that taking breaths while I name things helps a lot.

And if that’s not your thing, you can say hi or name something you’d like more of for the coming week.

Love ya,
Havi

magical numbers & bonbons for breakfast (check in)

Got what I wanted but not in the way I wanted it (story hour)

This week I journaled a lot on my wish of spending less time on my phone.

Specifically my wish is to spend my day with my day, aka with my projects and incoming selves, with zero desire to interact with my phone.

Such a beautiful wish, so luscious and enticing. I love the idea of being so immersed in something I’m passionate about that it doesn’t even occur to me to check my phone for updates, like a rat in an experiment who can’t stop pushing the button in an attempt to win attention-pellets and affection-treats.

And guess what, I got my wish but in the most annoying way!

One day I opened phone earlier than usual to see what time [person I love smiling at] was able to meet up for smiling and walking.

Except instead of warmth and sweetness, their text said “I’m beginning to feel concerned that [redacted really really great aspect of our connection, though not what you’re probably thinking because we are definitely not doing that!] might be unhealthy”, and wow, yeah, wow, that, as my friend K said, is certainly a word choice someone could make.

That might be one of the worst texts I’ve ever gotten, possibly the most boring thing a man has ever said to me, and men have been boring me to death for my entire life, though obviously the prize for worst text I’ve ever gotten still goes to “Happy Turkey Day!” from the person I thought was my boyfriend of eight months or so, after ghosting me, so let’s say this new terrible text can be second place, tied only with “Sorry for vanishing and hope you’re well”.

Anyway, I don’t want to ever see a text like that again, and so I lost all interest in looking at my phone, and haven’t been opening it at all until I need to drive somewhere.

Next time I will ask for my wish to come true in a way that is fun and joyful please, but in the meantime, hey I’m not looking at my phone! So that’s something. A start. Maybe.

Weekend Check-in, we made it.

Reviewing the week aka Chicken/Check-in is not only a reassuring ritual and fun to say, but another form of remembering, turning inward with attentiveness.

We can name what was difficult and name what worked, I find naming therapeutic. What am I experiencing and how am I experiencing it? All intel is useful.

Mainly we’re here to take a breath for having made it here. High fives all around and hand-to-heart appreciation.

If I neglect to name something big in the world, could be ADHD but also I’m on an extended news break after spiraling hard.

Breathing for what was hard, challenging, uncomfortable, not fun…

THING ZERO and THING ONE remain the combination of the pandemic and the dissonance, no shared reality, no shared context, and not just regarding the coronavirus, but in so many ways, it’s kind of all blurring together to me, and so now I miss people and also I kind of hate pretty much everyone (not you), and when I’m not hating, I just don’t trust. That’s the best I can arrive at: not-trusting.

So part of that is my stuff, and part of it is structural, but a lot of it is just that I have lost so many friends to misinformation/disinformation, and it’s just sad. So much grief, so much loss, such a long year-and-change. Here’s to and-change, multiple meanings.

Meanwhile, my dad keeps asking me when I’m getting the vaccine, and I did not know there could be a more frustrating, irritating, guaranteed to get me to lose my patience question than his (and my monsters) other favorites aka “where will you live, what’s happening with your business, what are you doing with your life???”

But that’s the worst question and I hate it, mainly because not only do I not have an answer, I don’t know how to get an answer. The county in Arizona where I’m currently hiding is full of retired people, they aren’t even vaccinating people in their fifties yet, and my county in New Mexico has my number and is welcome to call me any time, but there’s no way to know when that will be. Or how I can get there.

It’s a waiting game, and it’s been a very long more-than-a-year of Unknowns & The Cards Said Wait.

Not just that, it’s been a very long more-than-a-year for me of no one to talk to and no one to touch, and sometimes the loneliness is so complete and all-encompassing in its agony, so utterly unbearable that I cannot do anything except be wrecked by it. It washes over me. All I can do is breathe and hope things will be different.

Very weepy this week, in general, which could be hormones or it could be the not-knowing, or it could be that while I am finally sleeping more hours, my dreams are so exhausting and stressful that I wake up more tired than I was when I went to bed. IT IS RUDE OF SLEEP TO MAKE ME MORE TIRED, and I emphatically rebuke this entire situation.

Or it could be because I read the news which was a terrible mistake and reminded me that I am not able to read the news and be a functioning human who remembers how to breathe. So now I know about Atlanta and about Sarah Everard, and other painful things, and when I am immersed in the collective grief, I am mostly useless. That’s a clue for me about something, about many things.

After a solitary month, I was looking forward to a walk with [the person I love smiling at], and that fell apart in the most ludicrous, boring way imaginable, the terrible text resulted in a falling out that I can only describe as inane.

I dislike being the one doing 95% of the conciliatory work to untangle the misunderstanding, but not as much as I dislike knowing someone would let me go over some crossed wires. I guess that’s also a clue, but why are all the clues terrible right now, who knows.

It kind of feels right now as if I am in the worst part of the slow-motion montage. That is, I know things are shifting and getting better but I’m still very much in the slog of it.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

I feel incredibly fortunate to be in good health right now, a breath for this amazing good fortune.

My dad got his first dose of the vaccine this week, and I truly had not realized the extent of the worry-stress I’d been carrying about this until it happened. Joyful reassurance, exhaling again.

Four other friends got vaccinated this week as well. I feel delighted for them and hopeful for the rest of us, may we all be vaccinated speedily and in the best possible circumstances.

I am in a safe space for an entire month, for the first time since last June, and it feels amazing.

Oh and I bought a book, which is huge. My brain broke last spring, and other than my own writing, I haven’t read anything longer than a tweet in at least a year. The book is The Cooking Gene by Michael Twitty, someone I only know from Twitter but am very fond of. I am excited to even be in a hopeful enough place that I can imagine being someone who reads again.

Slow motion montage might be frustrating but also it is working, having some breakthroughs, both in my physical practice and in some other things I’m working on/through.

Equinox rituals were beautiful (happy vernal equinox!), and I did some writing about my wishes and had some useful epiphanies many of which were also very, very funny. Here’s to Agility, Frivolity & Vengeance!

Fancy hot tub night under the most beautiful crescent moon and surrounded by the most loving saguaro cacti.

I am welcoming solutions that hold me in High Regard. I am inviting in new and better, in all forms, may all misunderstandings be dissolved in love and may new playmates come into my life who are more fun and less work and only send texts of Wild Adoration (but I’m still able to not check my phone until the evening!).

Made really incredible lemonade this week, and next up is a grapefruit shrub, going to pick some grapefruits from a friend’s garden. And a friend delivered a birthday present of my favorite dark chocolate covered ginger, along with some extremely delicious bonbons which I absolutely had for breakfast, superpowers of that.

Might have a good place to stay for the summer, please blow some kisses in the air for this or light a candle, or whatever your preferred form or celebratory supportive magic. May it be so or something even better.

And my other wish is to stop fighting/dreading/hating this part of the slow motion montage and the glow-up ops, and figure out how to channel some EXCITEMENT for them.

Otherwise, just remembering that I’m a powerful sorceress and that leveling up is a process with ups and downs, and maybe I can have more fun with that, like a rollercoaster I decided to ride for fun, and less like something bewildering that is happening to me.

The other thing that has really been working for me is magical numbers. Setting a bell for one hour, eleven minutes and eleven seconds gets me to roll around on the floor and be a bobcat or do some yoga, and it’s also a good amount of time for me to play with a writing project or knock things off my list. LET’S SLAY OUR SHIT is the battlecry/slogan, and that plus the right container of time is magic.

I’m learning new words in Arabic, trying out new recipes, my mental map of Tucson filled in a bunch of gaps, like the last few puzzle pieces all clicking into place. My brain is sad but my brain is working again, and along with it my desire to learn, play and experience is back on! I really missed caring about things.

Thank you again so much to everyone who sent me surprise Appreciation Money this week via Barrington’s Discretionary, it is always welcome and received with love, and if I can land in a place, which is the wish-goal of wish-goals, I can share more writing here, that’s my preferred way to fill time; writing and hopeful thoughts.

Play with me in the comments! You know the drill…

I love company! You can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing. I still have not figured out how to get emoji to work in the comments, sorry!!

How are we holding up? Anything hard and/or good in your week that you want to name here? Sometimes naming helps. I have found for me that taking breaths while I name things helps a lot.

And if that’s not your thing, you can say hi or name something you’d like more of for the coming week.

Love ya,
Havi

Say no more (a check in)

Say no more (story hour)

Over the past months in the desert, my car has gotten dustier and dustier, and when I do curbside pickup and have to identify my car, I say it’s dusty, and the person I’m speaking to says SAY NO MORE, I SEE YOU.

This week I finally got around to figuring out how my mini vacuum cleaner works, and gave star car a thorough interior gleaming, and then figured MIGHT AS WELL take care of the outside too, and drove across town to that one car wash where everyone is in a mysteriously good mood.

“Spa day for star car!”, I sang to my car. That’s the entire song, but I sing it to her when we are going through the car wash, both to calm myself down and to remind my car that she is loved, and that we are doing this in service of Freshness and Shininess and other spiritual-magical qualities that we want to be reminded of.

Anyway, I got back to the casita and it immediately began to rain, and then it rained on and off for two days. So I didn’t need to go to the car wash, but also I did, you know? I don’t know if I can explain it better than that, but that was basically the theme of my week.

Things were stuck until they weren’t, and then when they were unstuck, everything else flowed in such a way that I didn’t really need to do that work of unsticking to begin with, but also all timing is right timing, and no effort is wasted, and it’s all connected, and things get clean in the time that they get clean, and so on. And so we breathe through it and sing a little song.

Weekend Check-in, we made it.

Reviewing the week aka Chicken/Check-in is not only a reassuring ritual and fun to say, but another form of remembering, turning inward with attentiveness.

We can name what was difficult and name what worked, I find naming therapeutic. What am I experiencing and how am I experiencing it? All intel is useful.

Mainly we’re here to take a breath for having made it here. High fives all around and hand-to-heart appreciation.

If I neglect to name something big in the world, could be ADHD but also I’m on an extended news break after spiraling hard.

Breathing for what was hard, challenging, uncomfortable, not fun…

THING ZERO and THING ONE remain the combination of the pandemic and the dissonance, no shared reality, no shared context, re the coronavirus, though also in the political and also re climate change, it’s kind of all blurring together to me, it’s hard to remember who I can talk to and who I don’t trust anymore.

I said this last week, and I still think this: The pandemic has been so revealing and so clarifying, and that’s maybe the most diplomatic thing I can say about it, but one of the main things it has revealed and clarified is how many people I know (and thought I admired and respected) who view my life as expendable, and seemingly view most lives as expendable. Or maybe they don’t think about my life at all, and they just do what they do, but I don’t like it. It’s embarrassing and infuriating that we couldn’t get it together in the most minimal way to protect each other.

Other than that, kind of in and out of moods, and extremely exhausted.

When I finally got to the new place, I slept for ten hours straight and then spent the next two days napping, binging netflix, pacing, and staring into space. There might be more of that. It’s been a lot. Everything has been a lot.

Skipped sun salutations twice this week because the thought of moving at all was more than I could take.

I suddenly have multiple options for safe places to stay this summer which is exciting, but also like, where were these options when I had to move eleven times in a month?????

What else? So. Much. Anger. Just rage-fury-pain at the world and my world, and a world of memories. I am pacing and crying and taking dance breaks and just feeling everything the way I feel everything.

Also I really need a hug, and someone to talk to please, and we are still in a pandemic so there is still no way to do anything about either of those things, they remain wish-hopes, and I wish-hope for things to change.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

I gathered forces and found a new safe house and made it there safely and I get to stay for an entire month. The last time I was somewhere for a month was last June. I almost don’t know how to handle this feeling, what is this, sanctuary, relief, hope.

Listening to music I haven’t heard in twenty years and some of the memories are sad, but so many are wonderful. Dance dance dance, keep dancing.

I have been making really fantastic meals for myself, which is the goal: Delicious Food, Beautiful Plated, Just For Me. This has been so hard for me in the past — I love to make meals for someone, and the idea that actually I am that person who is deserving of the kind of meals I can make, is blowing my mind.

Made deliveries of dessert to two people and they were both very happy with the surprise treats, and I was happy with their happiness.

Despite all the pressure I feel to Solve All The Mysteries, Close All The Doors, and generally get things off my list as fast as possible, I have been trying to practice compassion and go slow, aka let the pace be the pace.

Visited one of the places where I might be this summer, and it was beautiful and peaceful. Made friends with some donkeys and a horse and a very sweet dog.

It snowed on the mountains which is extremely unusual for March, and then I saw two rainbows. Big change, big hope. Clues everywhere.

I was feeling so foggy and lost, and then Incoming Me said, babe you’re a sorceress, please act like it, and I snapped out of it and went back to making things extra-magical, infused with intention, playful, delicious, unexpected, in the ways that I know how, even when I forget.

Delicious things remain delicious. Vengeance remains a truly excellent and exalted pursuit that brings me joy. Legs up the wall remains a perfect way to spend an evening.

Thank you again so much to everyone who sent me surprise Appreciation Money this week via Barrington’s Discretionary, it is always welcome and received with love, and if I can land in a place, which is the wish-goal of wish-goals, I can share more writing here, that’s my preferred way to fill time; writing and hopeful thoughts.

Play with me in the comments! You know the drill…

I love company! You can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing. I still have not figured out how to get emoji to work in the comments, sorry!!

How are we holding up? Anything hard and/or good in your week that you want to name here? Sometimes naming helps. I have found for me that taking breaths while I name things helps a lot.

And if that’s not your thing, you can say hi or name something you’d like more of for the coming week.

Love ya,
Havi

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