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, and for being here right now}

What worked this week?

Sharing, oddly enough.

I used facebook, a forum I do not generally like for anything other than keeping up with dance events.

And I was able to share some of what I was going through, and to ask for help and support in ways that worked for me.

Next time I might…

Consult past experience.

There were a lot of moments this week of “I’ve made a huge mistake”, Arrested Development style.

I already had the intel that made it clear what I needed to do in order to avoid that, I just wasn’t doing it.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. Travel. It is so hard on me. A breath for being a highly sensitive person, who needs what feels like outrageous amounts of recovery time.
  2. The worst jetlag since my disastrous last trip to Berlin several years ago. I was sleeping okay but could not focus to save my life. It was 48 hours of crawling through fog. Chunks of time went missing: I wasn’t daydreaming, I just wasn’t there. Scary and frustrating. A breath for moving through.
  3. I had been counting on dropping in and out of workshops at the dance convention as a way of easing my way into Operation Detwah, my difficult adventures in Michigan. But what actually happened thanks to jetlag was that I stayed in bed and cried. I hardly did any dancing at all. A breath for comfort.
  4. I said this last week and it’s still true: I deeply, deeply, deeply need two weeks off. Or in. Or something. And I have no idea when/how this could happen. A breath for needing an opening, and for being able to see the door.
  5. Operation Detwah took top priority this week, which meant that zero progress was made on the rest of the ops. Frustration. A breath for trusting the process, and the flowers.
  6. Wishing I could wave a magic wand and help my mother get better. A breath for loving people who are in enormous pain.
  7. Missing my home and yoga and routine and projects. A breath for passage.
  8. Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. It’s been a month, and the Unbearable Missing is over. A breath for clean, clear forward movement.
  2. While the 48 hours of zombie jetlag were pretty hellish, the moment when it cleared was beautiful. A breath for relief.
  3. The Mystery of Aisle 32. This marvelous and unexpected adventure involved invisibility, resonant energy transfer (it’s a thing!), the elusive Mr. Blakely if he does in fact exist, his nefarious scheme — or is it actually not nefarious at all?, a cowboy who is not a cowboy, wildly extravagant hats, henchmen in equally extravagant hats, brunch at the Fleetwood, a giant epiphany about panache, and at least one spectacular musical number with jazz hands! A breath for the truly miraculous healing thing that is PLAY.
  4. Sleeping through all the dancing actually meant that I had the great fortune of attending a Robert Royston dance workshop at ridiculous-o’clock in the morning, a completely extraordinary jaw-dropping hour of intense learning which completely changed how I think about dance. A breath for good fortune and right timing.
  5. Companionship, in a wide variety of forms. A breath for being held.
  6. Setting clean clear expectations. A breath for wearing the crown.
  7. Bonus miracle! A breath for the unexpectedly wonderful.
  8. Appreciation and thankfulness. Nothing is wrong. Now is not then. Delicious food with my brother. Marisa, Richard, Luke and Casey cheering me up (and cheering me on) from afar. We can do this. I made it. Dance this weekend. American Ninja Warrior clips are the best. So many 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.

Operation Detwah took over everything this week, though I did get 4 hours done on Operation Xs and Ys on the plane. Wham Boom.


Powers I had this week…

I had the superpower of my feet know where to go even when I don’t.

Superpowers I want.

The power of Graceful Easy Transitions, and the power of Delighting in Releasing, Releasing Into Delight.

Salve. The Salve of Delighting In Releasing.

I have had lots and lots of experiences in which letting go was almost unbearably painful, until the moment I could finally do it, and sometimes even after.

And I’ve had experiences where the letting go was relief: Don’t let the door hit you too hard on the way out! The goodbyes of Good Riddance.

This is not like that. This letting go is sweet, effortlessly sweet. It is delicious. It fills you with delight. Goodbye, and thank you. Goodbye, and I am glad I can let this go. Goodbye, and it is the right time. Goodbye, with love. Goodbye, and may peacefulness prevail.

When you rub this salve into your skin, this flavor of releasing eases into your body and your entire world. It becomes a real option instead of a theoretical concept. Things that are done begin to sweetly exit, without drama, without friction.

It is a salve of ease, of pleasure, of possibility and trust. It is both calming and revitalizing, something vetiver-like. It makes the skin glow quietly. It is a healing for you and for everyone who encounters you.

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 band is from Darcy and it’s called Pneumatic Underground Hamster Tunnel To Portland, and they are a cello group who is actually 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