Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
Maybe.
I had an interesting experience/realization/epiphany Saturday morning, and I started writing about it and then stopped.
I wanted to tell you about it, to come here and talk it out, like I do, because maybe that will help me understand it better, because companionship is a lovely thing.
Except then I didn’t write about it because it was the Fourth of July and that evening explosions happened and kept happening, and I was hiding.
And then I didn’t want to come back to anything from that day, because it hurt too much.
Basement.
This past week has found me mostly in the basement. Easing and releasing.
Partly-mostly for the cooler air, and also to make progress on the enormous project that is clearing out the basement so that we can maybe-eventually sooner-rather-than-later rent out the house.
I’m excited about this change, and yet the basement project — Operation Subterranean! — has been hard and frustrating and kind of awful, really. For a number of reasons.
There’s the pain of not seeing results…
It took six full days of blood, sweat and tears before I even made a visible dent.
At times, even after emptying so many boxes and filling the municipal recycling bin to overflowing, the basement actually seemed to be more of a disaster than it had been before.
Of course it was. I just forgot that sometimes — often — chaos and disruption is a vital part of the releasing, not a sign that releasing isn’t working.
The part — ha — where I massively underestimated everything.
This is a theme in my life, as you know.
Here’s what happened. I made some extravagantly off-base guesses about the scope of this project, based on nothing? Based on the dismissive mutterings of my monsters?
For whatever reason, I’m not sure when or how or why, I apparently just decided at some point that clearing out the basement should take a week.
In fact, that’s kind of why I’d never attempted it. I mean, who has a week to devote to going through stacks of boxes.
Except I came back from Portland to escape the heat of Escalante, Utah, and I did have a week and didn’t have air conditioning so I had to hide in the basement anyway, and it turns out that my estimate was fantastically inaccurate.
It’s not a week-long project. Even now that I’ve hit a huge turning point, there’s no way I’m even close to halfway through.
Sadness.
Some of you know this and some of you don’t, but I used to have a retreat center here in Portland, and it was absolutely breathtakingly magical, and also very successful.
When an opportunity fell into my lap to expand, it felt like my heart expanded with it: like my heart was a hundred times bigger, I was this vessel of love and potential, it was thrilling and overpowering and I was ready to bring the culture we have here into the big, wide world.
We went full speed ahead, and it crashed and burned, and I lost everything-everything-everything including this feeling of Big Heart, including my ability to trust my desire to create things. It was all gone.
So, over the past few years, six thousand feet of furnished space had to be dealt with, not to mention endless paperwork, boxes of notes and binders from bringing it into existence to calling time of death.
This week felt like an endless walk through a maze-like museum of loss and pain.
And then something happened.
Well, a couple things happened.
First: VISIBLE PROGRESS. Two rooms now look totally transformed, and even though yes, they are still full of crap, it looks intentional, not like the aftermath of a tornado.
This feels so good.
And then I had this sudden lightning bolt of a realization: What if all this stuff is evidence of love instead of evidence of shame?
WHAT IF ALL OF THIS STUFF IS EVIDENCE OF LOVE INSTEAD OF EVIDENCE OF SHAME.
Whoa.
New evidence.
I mean, I have been seeing all of this stuff in the basement as “the overwhelming evidence that I failed, I screwed up, I let everyone down.”
So of course going through it all has just been so much guilt and shame and grief and agony.
What if I was looking at it all wrong though.
Love.
What if all of these things are signs that I LOVED and CARED and WAS INCREDIBLY PASSIONATE.
And what if — monsters freaking out over here just at the thought of typing this — what if it is not my fault that I lost this, that I made something and loved it more than anything, and it died and I couldn’t save it. What if none of that is my fault.
That is a thing that can happen in business. And anyway, what if crashing and burning is was what it was there to do, what if nothing is wrong, what if I couldn’t have saved it anyway, what if all my choices were legitimate instead of disastrous, what if I was just a person filled with love who acted from love and wanted to fill the world with love?
What if I was just ahead of my time, which, probably, yes, that too. What if I needed to direct that love other places but love was still the right ingredient?
What if it’s all love…?
What if it’s all love.
Nothing but signs of love.
I loved and loved and loved and loved.
Look at all this beautiful love.
That’s what this basement is. That’s what my entire past is.
And then laughter.
I left the basement and came upstairs, and in the kitchen I saw the Fluent Self calendar on the wall and laughed my face off because we are now in July, the month of LOVE.
We made it. To LOVE. After all that letting go. After the molasses-slow slog that was the month of RELEASE.
Love follows Release.
Do you see?
Releasing and then: Love..
Transition between the months/qualities isn’t just Releasing into Love, though that is a wonderful way to release.
And it isn’t just doing the work of releasing so there can be more Love .
And it isn’t even just releasing my need for Love so that I can be Love.
It’s this:
RELEASING ALLOWS ME SEE THAT EVERYTHING I WAS RELEASING EXISTED BECAUSE OF LOVE.
It’s all because of love.
Everything in my basement is there because of love, and I’m letting go of it because of love. My big heart: it’s back.
Releasing makes room for me to experience love. Releasing allows me to find the love.
It’s right where I left it.
Here. In the basement. Here. In my heart.
What is my wish?
To let go, let go, let go, let go some more.
To see love where it is. To see love where I forgot to look. To see love where I’m sure it’s not there.
And, as always, Safety First.
To take exquisite care of myself to the best of my ability. To remember that nothing is more important than this, even though I often seem to think everything is more important than this.
To say WHOOSH GOODBYE to what is done, and to wave goodbye, with love. From love to love.
Invitation.
You are invited to share many !!!!!! about this big realization, to muse on the possible connections between love and releasing, releasing and love, to share in the joy of how marvelous the Calendars of Qualities are that we make each year, to say “oh wow, what beautiful wishes” to me and to each other, to wish your own wishes.
GUESS WHAT ELSE! Fluent Self Care packages!
I was putting a care package together for my friend M. And then I was laughing because I need to send myself self-care packages. And then I have all these wonderful things left over from my center, so it’s fluent-self-care packages! Multiple meanings.
I am going to put some together for us. If you want a surprise Care Package of wondrous Fluent Self things, and you also want to give $50 or more to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund this week, I will put together the best care package ever just for you!
Now.
My housemate is upstairs, puttering and pacing. The neighbors are working on a project in the yard. The washing machine is rattling a bit. It’s nice, after the past week and a half of being alone in the house, surrounded by boxes in the basement.
The mood of mourning is lifting, this project is starting to feel less like emptying and more like spring cleaning.
I wouldn’t say that I feel energized, exactly. But the fog is clearing, and I am ready to see love in the corners, to bring love to the corners.
All the superpowers of that: may it be so, for all of us.
What does Slightly Future Me have to say?
Ze: You opened [the place that died] because of love, and love is still here. Try on that filter and look at everything you have ever done, tried, experimented with. Your whole life is just rotating molecules of love.
Me: I don’t think I’m ready to handle that yet, actually.
Ze: No worries, my love. Let’s just drop it, we can drop like a pebble in the water, forget the pebble for now, and just breathe with the ripples. Safety first, always.
Clues.
I found a bottle of sparkling apple cider that someone left at my chocolate shop six months ago, and decided that today is the day to drink it.
I was afraid the popping noise of the cork might set things off after I am finally calming down from the firework explosions, so I asked my housemate to open it for me.
I waited on the stairs, and there in front of me was a tiny anchor that I brought back from the center when it closed.
Anchored. And also sparkling.
The superpower of this is a badass way to live.
June was RELEASE MORE, with the superpower of I am stronger than I think, and now July is LOVE MORE, because this is a badass way to live.
This — this — being in my love-heart, this is a badass way to live.
And I got here through releasing more, so I am going to keep releasing.
Things I find helpful for intentions and wishes…
Adventure. Rest. Horizons. Security. Passion. Sweetness. Clarity. Presence.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week aka easing and…
I wished for ease with releasing, and — holy shit, it happened. I mean, first I got a lot of not-ease with releasing, but that’s how wishes work. You bring things up to the surface, and you see things you didn’t want to see, while in the process of transforming, healing, letting go.
Here’s to two rooms cleared out! Here’s to setting a date for a yard sale! Here’s to emptying out my belongings from the camper where I have been living with my lover since March. Here’s to this new moment.
And of course subterranean turned out to be exquisitely layered in meaning, and that is not a bad thing at all.
Thank you, process of writing about wishes. Thank you, me who asked.
Keep me company! Or just say hi!
You can deposit wishes, gwishes, personal ads, superpowers, qualities, seeds, secret agent code, whatever you’d like, there’s no right way! Updates on past experiments are welcome too, as is sharing anything sparked for you.
Comment culture: This is safe space for creative exploration. We are on vacation from care-taking and advice-giving. We are here to play and throw things in the pot! With amnesty. Leave a wish any time you want.
Here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: Oh, wow. What beautiful wishes.
xox
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Wow, what beautiful wishes!
My patron goddess, Ereshkigal, is chthonic, so ‘subterranean’ is kind of her thing. She’s a Sumerian goddess of death, grief, and letting go of things that maybe you don’t think you’re ready to let go of. I also think of her when I burn bridges. Anyway.
Yeah, just because some things we try don’t last very long, doesn’t – at all – mean trying them was a “failure”. It was a waystation, not a destination, but they’re necessary parts of the process too.
Yay for Love!
“… a waystation, not a destination…”
Beautiful words.
That love is all there is is all we know of love (to quote Emily Dickinson, I think.) That’s plenty.
I wish to enjoy being alive with these patterns of thought I’ve worked so hard for. I’ve taken time to learn how to let go of the judgement, frustration, insecurity, rage, anxiety and grief that has ordered so much of my interpretive experience. I even remember to do it, though I still want to get quicker and smarter and kinder at this. I want to get into my new projects, but first, this week, I want to celebrate where I am by: living; noticing the simplicity in my head/heart; and being grateful for the things that got me here. This has included a lot of motivating suffering, and a truckload of lucky love. So much imperfection resulting from so much generative love and resulting in so many skills for getting wise (leading to more love, imperfection, wisdom, love – repeat.)
Wishing for you for the basement space you’ve made so far to blossom.
So much love for this! Such beautiful wishes!
I have so many thanks for PastMe:
-PastMe set up things for the trip very well, i must say
-PastMe, some time ago, convinced me to put my field glasses in my purse, and i have had them with me at uneexpected moments. i have seen woodpeckers nesting in my tree, redwings and goldfinches, omg bright huge gldfinches in my yard.
-the goldfinches were there beccause of the overgrown thistles i never pulled this summer. so while i’ve been down on myself for the state of the yard, you cant argue with beautiful yellow birds in the backyard
-despite how tired we were, PastMe made a point of setting things for monday morning, on sunday nite.
I am intrigued with the month of Love, exploring it, and i agree: this is a BadAss way t live. My birthday celebration continues, with a dance conference this weekend, and all kinds of creative ideas popping.
Beautiful. So beautiful! <3!!!!!!!
This week, I am wishing for sparkle, and ease. Some new opportunities are on the horizon; they delight me a lot and scare me a little. What if it's all easier than I thought? What if sparkle is a doorway into ease?
(!!!!!!!!!!)
So I am in a weird place right now. About death and life and their intersection. I want to silent retreat on the rest of that, in part because I’m entirely unsure of the wish in there, but I will leave it to simmer.
I’ve had a doozy of a last little bit here because (I see now that) I was trying to admit something that I’d like help with a thing I pretend doesn’t exist – my California Fang Sisters. I’m all: lalalala, have been too exhausted to sit up for more than ten minutes for the past few days, and that’s not even all that abnormal, but we’re going to pretend it’s anything other than the California Fang Sisters because something about admitting they’re here with me is just impossible. Even though, yeah, I have every symptom.
So I’ve contacted a doctor who is highly experienced with the California Fang Sisters and as I wait for a response, I’m looking for some steadiness and safety and legitimacy for the mysteriously-difficult process of admitting.
And thirdly, another silent retreat.
Love for everyone’s beautiful wishes!
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
-o-
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have discovered that the part of me which is the big sister who is trying to keep everybody safe (by not letting them do anything that might possibly conceivably put them into danger) has opinions on my wanting things. She’s against it.
This is because (she says) there are only two ways that this can go. Either I don’t get the thing, and I’m massively disappointed and feel like an idiot for even having wanted it. Or I do get it, and [awful thing] happens, and that’s my fault for having wanted it.
However, big sister does not get to run my life any more. She means well, but she has caused a huge amount of damage and it’s time for her to retire.
Therefore, here are two huge wishes that I’m going to silent retreat on, but I’m really really really wishing them. Just because I can.
– [silent retreat]
– [silent retreat]
*gasp*
“look at all this beautiful love”!
!!!!!!
I am thinking of my past and how I refuse to look (subterranean!) because [quilt and shame and stuff]. I am thinking of my practice (which came to me soon after I started reading here) of seeing the guilt as a Quilt. A heavy, ancient patchwork quilt, infinity of squares, each embroidered with a moment, an incident, a piece of Evidence. Being wrapped up in the Quilt is a way of Not Looking At It, and it smells of dust and is kinda sorta comforting but also I can’t move or breathe or see very well that way. And I’ve been practicing getting the Quilt off (releasing, being released!), spreading it out, taking some steps back, Looking. And then? I process and heal and tell stories, and that’s great, yes. But also? I try to explain and apologize and rationalize and reconcile and defend. I brace myself for Judgement. And in the corner of my eye? There is an angel blowing a trumpet and it is the scariest thing ever.
But what if it’s all love?
*breath*
*tears*
The [quilt] is evidence of love. It doesn’t need me to hide it defend it fight for it edit it explain it. And I don’t need to wrap myself in it. We can release each other, me and my [quilt].
And if it’s all love than there is no guilt. It’s just the past.
And if there is no guilt, then there is no quilt either. A tapestry (can’t spell tapestry without the past! Also, a tapestry is a whole, not a multitude of individual squares.)
OK, I will take this to my journal now 🙂
Love and appreciation to everyone!! I am so so grateful for this space and absolutely psyched to be here!
“Can’t spell ‘tapestry’ without the past”… genius. I’m a fiber artist, and I also have a heavy past that I’ve often felt smothered by.
Genius. Thank you so much for articulating that lovely, insightful thought.
Evidence of Love instead of Shame? Wow.
Letters and texts from an ex? Evidence of love. Not shame.
[silent retreat] Love, not shame.
Journal entries where I struggled to figure out why I’m here?
Evidence of how much I wanted to stay. Not shame.
Business records? Love. Not shame.
Letters from [X] about [$]? Wow, evidence of so much love from generations back.
Thank you, Havi for putting that thought in my brain.
!!!!!!!!!,
This thing about realising that everything existed because of love, so powerful for me. Thanks for writing this! And beautiful wishes, too.
What beautiful wishes, Havi!!
Evidence of Love – of course!
Big Heart – absolutely!
I will always be grateful for learning so much about these at your amazing places in Portland and online.
I am a small ways along on what turns out to be a multi-year releasing of my own. Never could have gotten so far along, nor could I have such confidence it can all happen, without them.
Thanks for all the Love!
God, that was beautiful.
“WHAT IF ALL OF THIS STUFF IS EVIDENCE OF LOVE INSTEAD OF EVIDENCE OF SHAME.” !!!!!!!
What if releasing the things is an act of love and not a rejection of what I have loved?
Wishing for that to land.
Other wishes: Rest without inertia. Ease. Doing again the thing I love to do that I had to put on hold/stop doing when MrB was hospitalized then sent to a nursing home. He’s been home for a month and I still have not returned to it.
May it be so. May everyone’s beautiful wishes come true.
Beautiful!!
I’ve been thinking about the idea of “love – this is a badass way to live” since my calendar came, and ever time I can’t help but think “oh damn, yes please! live by love. it really is a badass way to live.”
“Evidence of love”: YES.
What beautiful wishes!!!
<3 <3
You guys the most incredible thing happened. Someone wants to maybe buy the chocolate shop. They approached us out of the blue right after I released twenty boxes of materials from The Thing I Made Before It Had To Become A Chocolate Shop. This is amazing. I am kind of in shock. May it be so! Or may something even better happen. But either way, all this releasing is good. and new pathways are opening, and I feel…excited? For the first time in a long time. <3
Oh, Havi! That is so amazing! May it all be for the good. Release, love, joy,ease. <3
Yayyyyyyy!
Oh that is awesome! Yay new pathways!
<3 <3 <3
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
<3 <3 <3
Yea for beautiful wishes and for love! Yea for love!
Oh, wow, look at all these beautiful wishes!
Dear Havi,
Tears sprang to my eyes as I read….
“WHAT IF ALL OF THIS STUFF IS EVIDENCE OF LOVE…?”
It’s true. It is ALL eveidence of love. What if we show ourselves the empathy we often can more easily show others?
I can know some of your thoughts because you share them here. You share! It’s incredibly brave. This is the good stuff that comes with a life awake. If I could, I’d give you an organic gluten-free unsweetened blueberry blue corn muffin (if corn is ok with you)
More love in the world. So needed. More love, more inspiration. You do both. Hats off to you for being your awesome superhero self.