Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!
Wanting is such a funny thing, isn’t it.
Such a funny, complex, highly-charged thing.
I have been doing this ritual every week for four and a half years now, and I keep re-discovering just how loaded it is to want something.
Sometimes the wishes that seem incredibly simple can be the most fraught.
Desire is about identity and change. All kinds of Stuff hiding out in there.
Anyway, this week I thought my wish was a straightforward one — it has to do with a gym bag that has particular characteristics.
A gym bag. What’s the big deal, right? An obtainable and relatively inexpensive item that could make a number aspects of my daily life both easier and more congruent.
I made some notes about the bag, and then ran smack into an ambush of what seemed like hundreds of different monsters, including some familiar faces like You Are A Spoiled Brat and Why Can’t You Just Make Do.
And a very quiet one, more like a wall, who believes that Wanting Is Dangerous, and that this one in particular should be kept under wraps.
I kept with it, because I believe hard in the transformative power of rabbit holes. Especially when the monsters start jumping up and down and yelling, “Distraction! Procrastination!”.
Yup. That’s definitely a sign I’m onto something important.
I discovered some deep identity stuff that had to do with PLACE. Or: with being at home in my life, in the context of living in a particular place.
It started with one of my time gremlins saying if I had a car, I wouldn’t need this bag to fill so many functions. And if I had a car, I wouldn’t need to live in Portal Land, because one of the reasons for Portal Land is that it is a great place to be someone who doesn’t want a car.
Not that I’m leaving Portal Land any time in the near future that I know of. I have a ten year lease on the imaginary chocolate shop, and I own a house, and my friends are here, and I love the bridges and the rivers and Rally. Mostly I love Rally. But I was seriously asking myself if living here is what I want, and I got there from the gym bag.
Do you see? Wanting is a big, complex thing. No wonder I avoid peeking at my wishes. They hold so much.
So let’s play. What do I want.
Starting with the qualities.
The reason this wish about the bag is so complicated is that the bag has become an accidental proxy for Big Questions About Identity And Purpose And Belonging.
Which is apparently what I need to be processing right now, and if it weren’t the bag, something else would be bringing this up for me.
So if it’s not about the bag (but it also is very much about the bag), what are the qualities I want in the bag?
Because I think it’s a safe bet that the qualities I want the bag to have will show me what I want in my life in general.
Ease. Spaciousness. Freedom. Options. Play. Pleasure. Delight. Glowing.
And…since desire is legitimate, what if it is okay for me to want these things, in a variety of different forms?
And then maybe a name for it.
Gym bag is kind of funny, since I don’t actually go to a gym.
I take a lot of dance classes. And I like to get down on the floor to have/be yoga, and I also like to dress like Bond Girl, so I require a couple of different clothing options at all times.
Plus I don’t have any positive associations with gym bags.
If I metaphor mouse this, my associations with [gym bag] include things like +sweaty, +gross, +heavy, +weighed down, +bulky, +inelegant.
The thing I want is not like that. The thing I want is sleek, sexy, easy to use, saves me time and doesn’t hurt my shoulder. It is its own kind of costume. And it is a home for things that need homes.
What does this make me think of? Well, spies need to be prepared. Mission-ready. This bag is about being mission-ready. And feeling comfortable and confident while embarking on whatever adventures are in store.
This bag is an ally for me. It is packed by Barrington. It exists to help me, and I want to meet it.
It might not have a name yet, but it will.
Details about the Bag That Does Not Yet Have A Name.
It does a variety of things.
It has to have a separate compartment to hold my dance shoes. Ideally two separate compartments, one for dance shoes and one for socks and sports bras. Yes, plural.
It needs outside pockets, so I have easy access to pen and paper if I need.
It needs to close, and it needs to be waterproof, because I live in Portal Land.
It needs to be able to hold a water bottle, notebook, change of clothes, and possibly a few other things.
I have bags that do these things, and the one I was using this morning fits this description. But walking with it for twenty minutes to the bus stop hurts my back.
It can’t be a purse or even a cross-body bag, because sometimes I’m carrying a lot of things, and I can feel my shoulders reacting to the weight. It really needs to be a backpack or something super comfortable to wear.
But also be attractive and sexy. Oh hi there, You Are Never Satisfied With Anything monsters.
Anything else I know about this?
I often think that what I want (whatever it happens to be) is impossible, and that I am the only person who has a need for it.
I want to remind myself that someone has already invented this. It exists. It is obtainable. And it probably isn’t a big deal, it only feels like it is because so much is tied up in the wanting.
So there it is. What I am really wanting (the want behind the want) is permission to want seemingly disparate things. I want to believe, always, that many things are possible. I want to remember that there are options and perfect simple solutions. And that it is okay for me to wish for them.
What might help?
Throwing it all into the pot. Wearing a costume. Interviewing the me who has solved this.
Treating it like another element of going on missions.
Asking you guys for recommendations and links to look at.
What I want.
- Progress on the ops!
- Miracles everywhere.
- Regular gigs at the ballroom, which is also the Spiegelsaal.
- This doesn’t require my input!
- Ha, it’s so perfect that it turned out like this.
- Past me is a GENIUS.
- I have what I need, and I appreciate it.
- There is money for this.
- I can see why this moment is good.
- Trust and steadiness.
This week’s ops?
This week might be about finishing up the dossier of The life of a Chocolatier, and it might be about the Book of Salves. It is definitely still about borders/boundaries, and about dancing.
I’m playing with…
Dance. Nap. Bath. Tea. Compass. Spirals. Taking care of myself.
Requests and announcements!
This year’s 26 Rallies are mostly full, but there are eight Rallies that have openings. Take a look at the new page…
I would also like support for our magical Red Rose Ballroom — likes on Facebook is great, as is spreading the word to anyone you know who might want to have an event, program, party, anything at all in Portland…
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka I want to write…
I wrote at Rally. Not any of the writing I thought I’d do, but other writing. Different writing. I skipped a lot of stones, and that was amazing.
And I learned some incredibly useful things about Eve Wild, who is Rocker Me, who is the me that Honey the Bounty Hunter was searching for.
Thank you, writing. Thank you, me who asked.
Playing. Shelter for the comments.
What’s welcome: Your own wishes, gwishes, visions and personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like. Things sparked for your own process.
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
We ask for what we need, and we give each other space and spaciousness for the process.
This is a place of safety for creative play and exploration, with a very non-dogmatic approach. We don’t tell each other how to ask for things and we don’t give unsolicited advice. We play.
That’s it. Let’s throw a bunch of things in the pot!
As always, amnesty applies. Leave a wish here any time you want.