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?


Gerbil tag is this made-up word/concept that was a huge help to me this week.

I had lots of writing projects I didn’t want to do, things that involved setting boundaries or describing something hard to describe, or giving instructions about how I want something to happen. Blah. Horrible.

So I pretended that I was writing these things on the topic of GERBIL TAG. And I substituted GERBIL TAG for whatever the actual subject was.

Then I got to picture gerbils playing tag. Or, since Tag is day in German, I could pretend to be celebrating Gerbil Day. Either way, it was a welcome distraction from the subject at hand. I seriously used GERBIL TAG to help me write three completely different pieces.

When I was done writing up whatever needed to be written, I just did a page search for GERBIL TAG, and replaced it with the actual topic. This was surprisingly effective, and I hope I remember this one!

Next time I might…

Rest-pause first.

Every time things got stuck or painful this week, I paused for eight breaths. Or sixteen. Or five minutes on the floor. Or twenty five minutes on the floor.

It made everything better.

I also noticed, at Rally (Rally!) of course, that if I do this first, I am less likely to get triggered and also faster to recover.

I would like more resting-pausing first, please.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. My mission to Corvallis was horrible and I hated it and couldn’t wait for it to be over. Actually I ended it a day early. A breath for things being like this.
  2. Low energy. Lots of recovery and bed. A breath for trusting.
  3. A situation that had previously been pretty comfortably in the category of “enough aspects of this are good to make up for the weird glitches where things are really, really, distressingly not good” moved, swiftly and unexpectedly, into the category of “no, absolutely not, I may not be great at treasuring myself but I treasure myself just enough to know that I am not putting up with this anymore, ever.” A breath for letting go and all the sadness of that goodbye.
  4. Too many projects at once. Overwhelmed. A breath for trust and more trust.
  5. Heartache. Sitting with the void. Both of these are hard. A breath for comfort.
  6. Realizing I don’t want to do something I thought I really wanted to do. A breath for not being sure.
  7. Having to take any kind of leader-ey role results in spacing out and losing my grounding. A breath for coming back to myself.
  8. Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. I learned what I needed to learn from part one of Operation Crown Bridge in Corvallis, and I cut my trip short, and that felt amazing. A breath for changing my plans.
  2. Sunday was delicious. A long bath, a three hour nap, lusciousness. A breath for discovering what happens when I treasure myself.
  3. I am, finally, very clear on who can’t be in my life right now and why that is. Goodbye, goodbye, toxic relationship patterns, and goodbye, goodbye, me being the outlet for other people to plug their stuff into. I am done, and I am glad. A breath for knowing this.
  4. It is Rally (Rally!), and I am enjoying this particular Rally so very much. About half the people who were on the list didn’t show. We had a warm, fun group of seven people, and, I don’t know, just play and pleasure. A breath for a shared voyage, full of marvelous surprises.
  5. Epiphanies at Rally! Spirals at Rally! Giggling at Rally! Lots and lots and lots of writing at Rally! My problems solving themselves at Rally! A breath for remembering how great Rally is.
  6. Going for brunch with two of my favorite people at the same time, both of whom are named Marisa. Not only are they both Marisa, but they are both wise, thoughtful, sweet, fun and a joy to be around. I could happily have a double-Marisa brunch every week. Also they both have a distinctive and not-dissimilar way of speaking, which makes me want to create a game show called, Who Said It: Marisa or Marisa? For example: “I must go, I require grilled cheese.” Or, “I love that moment right between asking the question and knowing the answer.” Or, “I colored a thing and now I am happy.” I actually tested it out on Richard, and he guessed Marisa every time. He was right once. A breath for friends, brunch, delight in life.
  7. So much appreciation and thankfulness. Spring rain. Smiling strangers. Good smells. Delicious cheese. Long Slow Deep. Richard is amazing. Things are good. A breath for deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.

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.

Wham Boom! So much got done this week. Thank you, Rally. I finished Operation KLM, canceled Operation Sea Sky Dance Play, and am pretty close to finishing the final first draft of Mission of Xs and Ys. And I launched some new missions and ops, excited about those too.


Powers I had this week…

I had the superpower of releasing things that are not mine, and the power of seeing connections between seemingly unrelated things. And of taking eight breaths when I feel sad.

Superpowers I want.

The power of relaxing into what is happening, the power of remembering that “Now is Treasure”, which was something we seeded in the compass at Rally. I am still working on Extreme Sexy Fearlessness and will take some more of that please.

Salve. The Salve of Releasing What Is Not Yours.

As soon as this salve touches your skin, everything that is not yours finds its way out.

Actually, it’s more like it is politely escorted out:

Other people’s energy, the things they think about you, their projections onto you, their misunderstandings, their ideas about who you are. It all has to go. Stories people tell themselves about you, jealousies, mix-ups, all of it is gone.

And what you are left with is peacefulness, quiet, room to breathe, room for qualities, room to feel into what you need next. All of your energy comes flooding in, clean and clear, ready to be enjoyed.

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 salve does not appeal, you can have this in tea form, as a bath, cocktail, 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!

My brother and I make up bands, which are all just one guy. The Meme Beach House is the venue.

This week’s band by way of one of the Marisas! This band is called Suddenly Squeaking Monkey. And yes, it is just one guy.

Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.

I am deep in an undercover mission to get better at receiving in all forms, or as I’m calling it: Glowing Receptivity and Being Receptive to Glow. Including the skill of gracefully accepting thanks.

It is related to my mission of Coming Out Of All The Closets and sharing about my personal experiences with not-sharing-how-hard-things-are.

If you would like to take a part in this and support me on my mission by sharing sweetness and appreciation for any aspect of my work, I would love that. You can do it with the magic of words, through the comments, or add something to Barrington’s Discretionary fund. (Explanation!)

And if the way you are glowing appreciation is quietly in your heart, I like that too. ♡

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.

The Fluent Self