A dream and an accomplishment (story hour)

I had a terrible dream last night, and it started out so beautifully and so promising. In the dream, I went to visit my favorite person to smile at, and we beamed at each other happily for a long time, and on the way back to my car, someone came at me with a knife and stabbed me.

When I told my smiling companion about the dream, they immediately asked where I was stabbed. I didn’t know.

While it rattled me, I think this dream is not so much about [the dream events] as it is the return of March.

A year ago we had no idea, or maybe an inkling of an inkling, but we did not know the extent to which everything would be overturned and undone; certainly I did not know how I would be undone.

February, the longest and shortest month, is over, and a new March is approaching, and there is momentous anticipation along with a sort of panicky trepidation in the air, because we are all deeply traumatized from the last one, and the way it seemingly lasted for years.

And so I am being given an opportunity to remember and practice Now Is Not Then — even and especially when now reminds me of then, as well as the superpower of Do-overs Forever, which was my February theme and really my whole life theme. Reset restart. New breath, new moment, what is here?

In the meantime, if you’re wondering if I exceeded my January record of 8000 sun salutations aka Sundulations, despite the month having fewer days in general and fewer sundulationable days due to Trauma and some chronic pain stuff, I am waiting for that call from Assassin School. Any day now.

Raising a glass of lavender sparkling water to my NINE THOUSAND AND NINETY NINE February sun salutations, because I’ve got nine thousand ninety nine problems but my morning ritual is not one of them.

Thanks to Laura for saying I should get the opposite of the Nobel Peace Prize, the Lebon Vengeance Prize, yes please to this prize being a thing and to me getting it.

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 break from news after spiraling hard in December.

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

THING ZERO and THING ONE remain the combination of the pandemic and the dissonance, the lack of an agreed upon reality or even a shared context, re the coronavirus and also in the political.

I said this last week and it’s still true, so much time goes to trauma processing and rage processing from this and related things, also every single aspect of the attack on the Capitol, the horrors of the Trump administration and also literally every time I remember that the Supreme Court exists, etc.

This week’s challenges were mostly boundary-related and ADHD-related. How do I function in a world when I live outside of time? And how do I explain what I want to people whose wants for me are so entirely different as to exist in a different plane.

I had some uncomfortable realizations that were useful, but it took a while in the discomfort to get to the useful.

Tired of situations that do not hold me in high regard.

The ongoing mystery of where/how to live, and how to stop moving all the time.

And the ongoing question: how do I shower myself in adoration and affection to such an extent that any from anyone else is just a fun bonus? Who knows, but that’s the practice.

Breathing for what was good, reassuring, joyful, sweet

I baked the tiniest and most adorable ancient Persian vengeance cookies, aka hamentaschen, which I have not done in many years. As my favorite youtube chef would say, you are after all the Snookie of your ancient Persian vengeance cookie. And I am going to challenge myself to post a pic on Instagram for you, even though being online kinda stresses me out right now.

Poolside lounging like the happiest cat, writing full moon wishes and communing with the mountains.

Last night’s nightmare aside, I have been sleeping well and looking forward to bed instead of fighting with bed time, which is the dream.

Today I moved back to my favorite place, and I get to stay here for two entire weeks, and I am so thrilled to be reunited with this space that loves me back.

Speaking of places and wanting them to love me back, I bravely had a hard long distance conversation with the dragon (my 150 sq ft trailer in New Mexico), and it was fruitful. The builder built the dragon to be a very small home, and I wanted that, but the dragon does not wish to be a home. The dragon wishes to be a place for ritual.

There are a variety of forms this could take. The dragon would welcome being a place to write a specific form of writing it desires to bring into the world, or a place to create special concoctions to be shared with others (vanilla extract, very good mustard). It knows clearly that its purpose is for magic and not to be lived in, even in a magical way, and it took a while to be able to accept this, because I was trying to understand it. But this is one of those things where understanding is besides the point. The dragon knows what is best, and nothing is wrong, I didn’t make a mistake, I just need to reconfigure my vision.

Is that hard or good? I guess both, but in my heart I know it is good that we came to this clarity together. I am someone who knows how to listen and to reconfigure, these are things I can do, and that matters.

Delicious things remain delicious: desert tinctures, the mountains turning pink in the evening, morning bobcat time (stretching and moving), the way I am smiled at by the person who smiles at me like that, listening to Arabic music in the car and recognizing more words, the way Incoming Me just wants to wrap me up in love.

Ancient Persian Vengeance Cookies aside, I do love that I come from a people that celebrates grudges. Purim is truly the best holiday and I’m not just saying that because I was a Purim baby. Imagine being so MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR to the person who tried to mess with you that you name a whole dessert after your enemy, and eat it each year just to celebrate their downfall. Your enemies failed in their attempts to wrong you, and you name a cookie after them. Honestly inspirational.

In that spirit, I renewed a domain that I don’t want or need, because of an ancient grudge of my own, and the person who wants it could just have it if they’d apologize for being terrible to me, but they don’t want to, and so I took pleasure in this yearly ritual. It’s the little things.

This week, in addition to genuinely joyful grudges, also held insight, patience, self-tenderness, good conversations, warmth and hope. And much writing about some familiar and new goal-wishes, aka Gwishes…

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,

The Fluent Self