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}

I am at the Vicarage, where I have removed myself from everything for two weeks so that I can get even quieter than I usually am. There is a richness of quiet that I crave right now, and this is the place where I can sink into silence.

And since I am currently engaged in this deeper-quiet, this Chicken will be an abbreviated one. I hope you can feel some of the quiet coming through, as well as the wonderful superpowers of quieting.

What worked this week?

Removing myself from everything.

I keep looking at this sentence and shaking my head at the wisdom of what I did for myself.

Next time I might…

Do this sooner.

The plan to run away to the Vicarage happened super last-minute.

While I was going through my “how to run away to the Vicarage” protocol, I found a note from Last Year Me who said:

My love, please don’t wait to do this until you are at an edge. Don’t wait until you can’t see straight to pause and recalibrate. Do this before you think you need it. And, most importantly, don’t wait until after you need it.

So. I didn’t wait until after I needed it. That part is good. And I also knew six weeks ago that the need was on the way, and tried to ignore that information. Next time. Progress.

Thank you, last-year me. Thank you, last-week me. Thank you, incoming me who has figured out this whole “taking care of myself” thing.

Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.

  1. Loss. A breath for comfort.
  2. Need. A breath for trust.
  3. The well of sadness. A breath for release.
  4. Goodbyes. A breath for newness.
  5. Isolation. A breath for knowing I am not alone.
  6. Wistful wishing for something that is not to be, or not to be right now. A breath for allowing desires to be legitimate.
  7. Everything unresolved. A breath for passage.
  8. Inhale, exhale. Goodbye, mysteries and hard moments of this week.

Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.

  1. I am here. A breath for safety and protection.
  2. I have given this time to myself. A breath for treasure and for treasuring myself.
  3. Nothing is wrong. All timing is right timing. A breath for remembering truth.
  4. Sky. Water. A breath for peacefulness.
  5. I have words. A breath for appreciating who I am.
  6. Remembering that I am radiantly beautiful. It is astonishing how often I forget this, most of the time. A breath for rediscovering.
  7. When I have this kind of quiet, I am amazed at what I know. A breath for the sea of wisdom.
  8. Appreciation and thankfulness. Thank you, Alon for naming Operation Kaleidoscope. Thank you, Richard for being the best possible friend I could ask for. Thank you, miracles. Thank you, fruit. Thank you, blue towel. Thank you, lovely surprises. Nothing is wrong. Now is not then. 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.

The best part of Operation Kaleidoscope is that I don’t have to do anything except take care of myself, and this is the best op in the entire world, and the monsters don’t even get to complain about me wham-booming this. Wham Boom.


Powers I had this week…

The power of remembering how beautiful I am.

Superpowers I want.

Same as last time: the power of knowing, deeply, that every moment is treasure.

Salve. The Salve of Quieting.

It’s the Vicarage salve. When you rub this into your skin, it’s a bit like sinking into a warm pool. Or putting on noise-canceling headphones.


The hum-rattle-thrum of life’s buzziness just stops. There is you and your breath and sweet contentment. As if someone just turned off the vacuum cleaner in the background. As if the tap drip finally stopped. As if you had no idea how many things in the background (mental, physical, emotional) were causing interference until suddenly they all disappeared.

You relax into it, and then more, and then more. You set something down and then you set more things down, and then you remember words like tranquility and calm, and they are suddenly real.

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 Marisa and they’re called Weird Hyper Electric Confusion, they play Irish trance music and it’s just one guy.

Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.

I spend a lot of time saying “ohmygod I want to go somewhere and WRITE, I want to go on a writing retreat” and then I never do that because of the part where hahaha I’d probably have to sit around with Writers and talk about what I’m writing.

And then I realized I could invent my own that would be exactly what I want. Price super low because I need to leave town for a couple of weeks. It is called a Righting Retreat.

Partly because that sounds less intimidating (to me), and partly because it is true. We will Right things.

Come read the page because 1) I swear a lot, 2) I make a pun that is also truth, 3) there is a cloud that makes me smile, 4) I can’t be the only person who longs for this, 5) I just made a thing and would love company, 6) there is an extra-extra-extra low price for the first few people.

Not sure if there are still spots left because I am away, but give it a try!

—-> —-> PASSWORD: oneword

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