I spent about an hour and a half talking to Naomi this weekend. About the usual stuff… you know, stuff we’re working on, stuff we’re thinking about, how my duck is a whore.

About how much it sucks that we’re so far away from each other, and how great it will be when we trounce Pam Slim in the world’s sexiest pillow fight at the slumber party that is going to be us at SXSW. Then we’re going after Colleen and Sonia. At least I hope we are. I’ve never actually met Naomi. She might be a spindly little troll.

For now, though, that’s the plan!

But back to the mission:

But mostly we really talk about changing the world. About our mission.

About our own personal stucknesses (especially the blessing-curse of being a softhearted, highly sensitive, prone-to-tears Pisces) that sometimes get in the way of our mission.

And about the stucknesses that get in the way of our Right People doing the thing they so desperately want to do. Because it’s their mission. Their thing.

It’s cool because there aren’t that many people I know who really, truly get what I think of as my purpose. What it means. Naomi gets it — because she shares it.

I wish there were a less cheesy way to talk about things like this, but there you have it.

All this waxing philosophical makes me thirsty.

Anyway, all this deep talk about Meaning and Life Work and stuff got us all verklempt (or “pertinent”, if you’re my voice-to-text software).

Or drunk, if you’re Naomi.

Because I’m a sensitive mouse. I can get all emotional about my work and how important it is to me. It isn’t pretty.

And even though Naomi wouldn’t admit publicly to being a sensitive mouse, whatever. She’s a sensitive mouse of a delicate flower wrapped in a petunia and swaddled in moonbeams. We all know the truth.

So at this point we were deep into the dark existential crisis of confronting our purpose and stuff. And then we remembered that oh, right, this is just standard pre-birthday angst.

Oh. Right. That.

Yeah. So my birthday is next Saturday (the 7th) and Naomi’s is the day after that (the 8th). Which means: of course it’s feeling-emotional-about-life-and-purpose time. Again.

We calmed the hell down. Felt much better.

Well, after some more angsty hair-tearing about what it means to be getting older. Which is hilarious, because Naomi’s still practically a teenager and also doesn’t have any hair.

What we want for our birthday.

Actually, what we want for our birthday is what we want all the time.

To know that we’re doing everything we can to help our people — our Right People — feel safe, supported and loved.

To work through more of our own crap so that we can get better at feeling safe, supported and loved.

And help our people do it too.

So they can do the thing. And feel good about doing it. And help their Right People.

Yes, we’re gooey romantic idealists.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like we don’t like fansocks. Because we do. A lot.

It’s just that we’re also we take what we do (and what it means to us) really, really seriously. Uh, in a fun way! Like, the way religious zealots have fun. If they have fun. Never mind.

This is what we’re doing for our birthday.

We put together a special class to teach. About the biggest stuckness out there right now — this whole recession thing.

Our take on it, our advice, our “this is what I would do if I were you” ranting and the absolute best stuff we’ve got.

Because right now this is it. This is the stuckness we’re seeing the people we care about struggle with. And seeing people stuckified — especially when it’s the people we worry about the most — depresses the hell out of us. Because it’s awful and hard. And often unnecessary.

So yeah, we’re celebrating our birthdays by teaching what we know and what we believe in. I already mentioned the zealot thing, right?

Details if you want them.

This is not on the actual day, of course. I’ll be spending the Havi-and-Naomi birthday weekend in retreat. Meditation. Yoga. More meditation. And Naomi will be in a bathtub of gin or something. I don’t know. Ask her!

The point is, we’re doing this thing on Wednesday, March 4th instead. Though really, we’ll be giving everyone who registers for the class a copy of the recording.

So you could listen on our birthday weekend if you’re an obsessive stalker. Or the week after that if you’re just a regular person. Or whenever.

We made a little page about it over at HaviandNaomi.com.*

* Warning: it is kind of curse-ey. Naomi has to warn her people that I’m a total hippie, so it’s only fair that I warn you: curse-ey. There.

If you’re joining us … yay! Because knowing that you’re taking steps to destuckify with us is totally better than fansocks.

And even if you can’t, that’s cool too. Because knowing that you’re around and that you’re part of this work we’re doing is already a big deal. I mean that.

Warning: about to get mushy.

A tiny declaration of love.

It’s kind of crazy, but my work and my writing and my “hi, I’m documenting and modeling my working-on-my-stuff process even when it gets messy” thing has allowed me to meet the best people ever.

Naomi, for one.

Also, people who love my duck or at least don’t think I’m cuckoo for having one. People who get excited about the possibility of having a conscious, intentional, non-cheesy relationship with themselves and their stuff.

People like you.

So really, this is already a pretty sweet birthday and an amazing year.

Actually, I have all these other incredibly mushy things I want to say but this whole post is already a turning into the world’s most embarrassing confession. So I’ll stop right here!

And just say that I’m really freaking happy that we’re in this thing together.

 

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The Fluent Self