One of my clients has an elephant.
We don’t know yet if it’s the elephant in the room.
Or if it’s the elephant that you can only describe parts of.
Or another elephant altogether.
A student of mine has a hole in her memory.
Another one thinks she has a thing but is desperate to know more about it.
And I live in a house that has a history of sadness.
So we’re writing letters. Leaving notes.
Planting seeds.
A Possible Letter To An Elephant.
Dear elephant,
I think you are mine. Maybe I’m wrong about that.
Either way, though, here you are.
And I want you to know that I’ve noticed. I am aware of your elephant-ness in different parts of my life.
Please accept this paper cup of animal crackers. I hope that’s not inappropriate or anything, but I wasn’t sure what you like.
If you could tell me more about what you like, I would appreciate that.
Thank you.
p.s. Please don’t hide from me. I want us to get to know each other!
A Possible Letter To A Hole.
Hole in my memory,
I feel very conflicted about the idea of interacting with you because I am not sure whether or not I want to know what lives inside you.
Actually, I’m pretty sure I don‘t want to know what’s in the hole. And Havi said I don’t have to. So please don’t tell me.
However, I would like to know more about the essence of you and what your purpose is in my life.
I would like to know what you need. And if there is something that would comfort you.
Also, I would like comfort for myself as it is very disconcerting living with a hole.
And safety, because this is scary. I am only going to interact with you if we can have safety with this.
This is me, starting. This is me, making room for the possibility of conscious interaction with parts of myself that are lost.
I am not lost. I am right here.
Possible Letter to A Thing That Might Be Mine.
Dear Thing! Are you my thing? Oh, I want you to be my thing!
I know Havi said it’s fine not to have a thing or not to know. Because things move and change. That is the nature of things. Apparently.
But I would like to know more about what gives me that thrill of possibility. I would like to know more about what inspires me.
If you are my thing or a part of my thing, there are cookies in it for you. Just saying.
Love, me.
Havi’s Letter to Hoppy House.
Hoppy House,
I want you to be Happy Hoppy House. I want you to feel safe and welcomed and loved.
Just as I want to feel safe and welcomed and loved when I am with you.
Obviously, I’m bringing a lot of my own screwed-up past to this too. So I’m doing what I can to say here, now. And to love you.
Please help me have new experiences with this whole “space for me” thing while I’m recovering from old trauma and stucknesses.
And I will do what I can to help you feel appreciated. Okay, fine. Adored. You will be adored.
Where does a letter like this go?
Anywhere you want it to.
You can hide a letter in your home. Or somewhere else.
Leave it in a book.
Mail it to yourself.
Mail it to the Wish Queen. Or the Fish Queen. Or the Squish Queen.
Make up a ritual.
Burn it.
Shred it.
Bury it.
Crumple it.
Sing it. Dance it. Hum it. Wear it.
Or write a letter to your letter and ask it what it would like you to do with it. Meta-wackiness FTW!
Comment zen for today.
Letters are sensitive things.
As are elephants, holes, secret things and houses.
So we speak softly. We don’t throw shoes. We wear our invisible crowns. We remember that our stuff is our stuff and that everyone is entitled to stuff and to having it.
And that this post doesn’t come with shoulds. So if you’re picking up on any, they’re probably yours.
I might write them a letter. But you don’t have to unless you want to. Promise.
Follow
Dear Havi,
This is a marvellous post.
Love,
Mike
So this is a letter to your blog about your meta-letter. Gah!
.-= Mike Walters´s last post … What if I measured success by how I was, not what I did? =-.
I LOVE this!
I’m a letter writer to stuff and things because it was often safer to write it then say it and, with the writing of it, you still get to say it but safely. Then you can hide it…sometimes where it will be found, sometimes in a far away place where it can stay safe.
Bribery in my letters is a new one…way to go! Wish I’d thought of that! And cookies…yes, my bribe shall be gooey brownies. I’m sure of it.
A letter to my thing! HUH! Why didn’t I think of that?! I’ve written letters to others about my missing thing. Why not take the direct approach and just write to the thing itself?! WOOT!
Here’s hoping a smiley, fuzzy, squishy-hug-able frog finds its way to Hoppy House to make it happy. I’ve heard legends that smiling frogs make hoppy houses WAYYY happy…hey, it’s just ONE frog!
.-= Wulfie´s last post … Broken People =-.
This…is beautiful. Warms my heart. Brings a lump to my throat. Resonates. Yes.
I’ll be writing a letter today myself, I suspect. Not yet sure whom I’ll be addressing. But yeah. Some inner being is aching for my attention and compassion. I can feel that much, very piercingly.
Wow. Thank you, Havi.
.-= Kathleen Avins´s last post … Dramatis personae =-.
Dear Stuckness,
I know you’re hiding in there somewhere, and that’s okay. I hide a lot too, when I’m scared. I’m not going to force you out of your hidey-hole and I’m not going to parade you for all to see. We can keep our conversations private, just the two of us. I won’t embarrass you or call you mean names.
We can just hang out, maybe in a paper journal, or not in writing at all. We can do Dance of Shiva together and see what pops up, or doesn’t. I will work on being present in myself and we’ll go from there.
Love, Me.
.-= Amy´s last post … Give Yourself Permission =-.
Dearest Havi,
You are your own Happy Hoppy House, and your Hoppy House is so lucky to have you living in it!
Your blog is a Happy Hoppy House for all of us lovers of elephants-in-the-room, memory-holes and the entire spectrum of gorgeous weirdness that is our collective experience.
Thank you for the ways in which you show up to create at-homeness in yourself, and for everyone around you.
Love, Hiro
.-= Hiro Boga´s last post … Talkity-talk-talk: The Powers and Perils of Communication =-.
Can I be the Squish Queen? Pretty Please?
.-= Tara´s last post … Cro-Crazy =-.
mm. I wrote today about being stuck about not even wanting to look at my stuck. And as I teeter on the branch that could snap any minute I see somethign to reach for closer to the trunk of safety. Thank you.
Dear Stuck,
I will be writing to you tonight. You don’t need to threaten me or come at me with too much hard. Really. You are going to get mail. It could take me all day to inch my way off this branch and sit down to write you- but I will. Havi showed me the way.
.-= Pearl Mattenson´s last post … 1.14.10 =-.
Wow, weird synchronicity going on here. I wrote a letter to my back pain on Monday, and just posted it on my blog.
I’m a bit freaked out now. But not too much. Letters to Stuff are great! Hurray!
.-= Willie Hewes´s last post … Love Letter to my Back Pain =-.
I believe I will send my letters to The Fish Queen, with specially made fish postage and water-repellent envelope. The cancellation mark will be in the shape of a starfish. 🙂
Dear Studio,
Every time I walk into your presence, you make me happy, with your brightly colored fabrics and works in progress on the walls.
You also scare me, with your brightly colored fabrics and works in progress on the walls. So many options! What if I mess up? What if I start something that is so big that I run out of fabric or thread?
I miss you, and I know you miss me, too. I hope to see you soon.
Love, ME
.-= Andi´s last post … NVC in Practice =-.
I journal – a lot! However, I’ve never actually thought about writing a letter to myself or parts of myself or anything like that. I’m going to try this – pronto. Just the idea of writing this kind of a letter brings tears to my eyes.
Oh, I love this.
Dear Stuck,
Sorry I’ve been doing everything humanly possible to ignore you. I do know you’re there, like a Jewish mother, “You never call, you never write…” and I’m here, hoping you’ll dissolve into nothingness somehow when I’m not looking. But I know you’re there for a very good reason and I’d love to know why. There, I’ve made the first move, yes?
Talk soon,
Leah
.-= leah´s last post … Soul Artist, Laura Hollick =-.
With thanks.
Dearest Flat
I just realised that I haven’t given you a name and that
you need one. Oh dear poor Flat!
I realise that I often don’t know how to make myself feel safe and protected and comforted and beautiful in relation to you. And yet I want all these things for myself and I bet you want them for yourself too.
I know that sometimes stuck grief and ohhh guilt that I can’t talk about and locate beyond these words and sounds and that actually I don’t really want to stop me from moving on and taking up more space and feeling hope that I can. But still,I would like you to know Flat with No Name that I know you want to feel loved but that My Self from the Past is a bit ambivalent about me expressing good things and taking up more space. That can be tough for all of us. She’s not sure if I deserve it. The space and beauty. She’s not sure if she’s ready and in fact she’s not at all sure if she ever will. Shes a bit determined that way.
All I can say,off the top of my head,is that I promise I will play with this stuck and hurt a little and see if my Funny Hurting and,yes,Hiding Bits have an unexpressed need that Im not aware of. In fact I am going to write to these hurting parts of me too.
I do love you Flat. You are chaotic and funny and you keep bad things out. So you are bloody wonderful really.
Sending you hugs for all that you are trying to do for me.
Also you really do need a lovingmgoofy name that will make me smile. I promise to listen out for what you like to be called ok?
xx
Havi,
This is a great post!
I grew up being told to address the problems. But, to write a letter and send it might actually do some good.
I know I’ll be writing one! Or maybe some :>
.-= Sanford´s last post … MENTAL ILLNESS FROM THE INSIDE =-.
Dear part of me who has difficulty sitting down to write,
Is there anything you need that would make it easier for you to take the time to get those words swirling around in our mind out and on paper or on the screen? I get that it’s scary and it can be painful, but I know you believe with me that it could be helpful too. But yeah, scary. I know. I’m with you on that one.
Here are hugs, comfort, and a steaming bowl of soup. If there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.
Love,
The part of me who would like to see what would happen on the other side of writing down those things that are swirling around in our mind
.-= Josiane´s last post … Taking action instead of resolving to do so =-.
Lovely, lovely letters. I love letters. LOVE.
After I broke up with my ex I wrote down long lists of everything I would waste time desperately missing and I burned it. You know to let it go. I had quite a few little bonfires in my garden.
But it helped. Enormously. For whatever reason. So I love.
😀
.-= Wormy´s last post … Re-encounters with Comfort Eating =-.
I wrote letters to my money (and the money that I wanted to be mine) a while ago. It wrote back. We worked some stuff out. I will have to see if there are other letters that need to be written.
Or write a letter to your letter and ask it what it would like you to do with it. Meta-wackiness FTW!
That made me AMAZINGLY happy. MUCHLY needed amazingly happy.
*smooshy hugs*
.-= Kyeli´s last post … I can drive on the ice. =-.
Elephants
Are mostly made of four elements.
And every living thing
Is mostly made of four elements.
Therefore, if you gave your elephant a big squishy hug, and refuse to let go, would all that carbon/hydrogen/nitrogen/oxygen in you and in that elephant mush together and maybe create something else new and alive?
🙂
.-= Blue´s last post … Blue’s Childhood Diaries: September 30, 1995 =-.
Havi, this is awesome. I write letters to God and stick them away in a little tiny box. I have never thought to write to, for instance, my writer’s block or my insecurity about actually finishing the next book. Thank you thank you thank you. Also, Meta Wackiness–just one guy, right?
.-= Mrs. Ditter´s last post … Oh, Ye of Little Faith (or Trust)! =-.
Terra cotta piggybank with floppy ears and tiny smile has been the special receptacle for elephant mash notes but i am having difficulty with cookies…next up cornflake cookies…stay posted.
@mariko – Elephant Mash Notes — it’s just one guy!
Opening for Meta Wackiness, according to Mrs. Ditter. 🙂
@Sanford – I giggled OUT LOUD. Address your problems! That is soooooo funny and great. Address the envelope *to* your problems is what they must have meant. Who knew?
@Leila – that is a beyoooootiful letter. LOVE.
Oh you guys these letters are so great. Thank you for trying and playing and tiptoeing around the pain. It is all so so so helpful for me. YAY. Mwah!
Love love love. Sometimes I speak my letters to things out loud because I am afraid that writing them on paper gives them too much scary power!
Your blog is sooo wonderful!
Yes.
And wow.
Deeply.
.-= Shana´s last post … The only topic =-.
Wow. Just. Wow. I feel as though I need to read this whole thing again because each letter, although my house is not Hoppy House it is also not a happy house…
And elephants, holes, the thing that might or might not be mine – Oy Vey.
Oh, this is brilliant! I am continually blown away by how powerful it can be simply to reify something – turn it into an elephant, or a hole, or just a thing – or (my god) to give it a name. Wow.
This resonates with me on so many levels. I am already drafting Letters in my head…
.-= Léan Ní Chuilleanáin´s last post … Pricing at the Craft Fair (or, Magic and Mortgages) =-.
I can relate to the thing that might be mine thing. Also, that was a fantastic sentence. Oh, how I want to have a thing. I have lots of mini-things, but no “I know this is my thing and I love my thing” things.
So far, my plan for when I grow up (aka, when I graduate in April) is to knit hats and attempt not to be homeless. I’ll probably get a job that I hatehatehate and suffer through it for the moneys.
Oh, how I want to have a thing.
Oh Havi, this is just so wonderful. What I particularly love about it is how it makes it feel so safe to interact with elephants, stuck, scareds, hards, dreams, whatever. And how I can be with that whatever and have compassion for myself too.
Test driving . . .
Dear Dream of the HBO Deal:
Oh how I want to believe in you. Oh how I want to be able to talk about you unironically people ask me where I want my solo show to take me. Oh how I want to curl up in a little ball under my desk at work and visualize myself having you, and being filled with so much confidence and shininess that my writing sessions are easy and fun and fruitful. Oh how I am scared of you and use the seeming farfetchedness of you to lull me into an inertia born out of fear of bold strokes and big risks. Please help me to use you for good. Please help me to find some people that I can talk about you with, without having to put you in air quotes or making simultaneous self deprecating eye rolls.
Thank you.
And thanks to Havi for shining the light . . .
Havi,
All I can say is thank you! And here is my letter to my as of yet unfound new job…I’ve been unemployed the past 6 months, and I never thought of writing to my job…so here goes!
Dear New Job,
I know you’re out there waiting for me. Even though I’ve probably sent out over 200 resumes by now, I still have faith that you exist, and while you may not be perfect, I know that we will grow together.
I don’t know where you are—maybe you will find me—or I will find you. Maybe we haven’t found each other because I haven’t asked you to find me. This is me asking: Come find me! Maybe you will come to me through a friend. I don’t want to get stuck on how we find each other, or when (though sooner would be better) I don’t care what kind of job you are—if you’re at a non-profit or a for-profit, or what your title is. I might be surprised about what you are, and I like surprises!
I think I’ve been looking for you in a really limited way all of this time because I thought I knew what you were and where to find you. I was convinced that I knew a lot of things about you, but maybe I’m wrong. I’m ok with being wrong, and not knowing. I know that I don’t know a lot about where you are, or what you might be so I want you to find me. I’ll be so grateful!
I think I’ve been a little scared to look for you because I’ve been embarrassed about being unemployed and not getting a single job offer after so many interviews. I’m also scared about having to ask you for help. I don’t like asking for help, it makes me feel weak and like I’m not in control. I feel like people will judge me if I have to ask for help, and I don’t want to be judged. I know that’s part of my stuff, and I’m trying to work on it. That’s why I’m writing you this letter.
I’ve also been embarrassed about being fired because I feel like it reflects unfairly on the kind of person I am. I don’t really know how to talk about being fired in a way that’s honest and compassionate and true. I don’t want to seem bitter about it or shifty. I’m not that person; it was unfortunate end to a bad situation. I want you to understand that, and not judge me for it. I’ve learned a lot from what happened and why, and I want to move on—I want to work. I want be recognized for what I know, and for what I do now.
I want to be able to use my creativity for more than just elaborate baking projects, though I promise to bring you baked goods when we get to know each other—if it’s appropriate.
I know that I will learn from you, no matter what. I know that you will help me to understand more about myself—what kinds of work I enjoy doing, and why. I promise not to bring too much of my stuff to bear on our time together. (It will be hard though, and I’ll need help and reminders to stay focused on that one.)
I hope that you will pay me pretty well, because I have credit card debt, and a house to finish remodeling and a life to live and I don’t want to be worrying about money, because I think that would make me resentful of you, and I don’t want to resent you. Also, I think you should pay me well because I’m worth the money—I’m smart and well-accomplished, and I do good work.
I want you to be full of interesting people for me to meet, and new things for me to learn…maybe you could even help me pay for my master’s degree—that would be pretty awesome.
I want you to be the kind of job that challenges me in good ways, a job where I have the right kind of leadership and guidance. I also want some freedom too: to be creative, to try new things, to learn from mistakes. I want to get to do work that I really believe in, that helps people in substantial ways. That might not mean saving lives, it might mean keeping a really up-to-date database. I’m open to interpretation on that one.
For my part, I promise to be open to challenges and criticisms, to own up to my mistakes and limitations, and do everything I can to listen, learn and grow. I promise to take my work seriously, to speak up when I am stuck or bored and to be a compassionate and diligent colleague. I promise to bring all of my skills and experience to make us a good match. I promise to recognize if things are not working and communicate about my needs or concerns. I promise to contribute to creating a strong, supportive, respectful community with my colleagues.
I’d really love to have a job where I had a mentor, someone to help me figure out how to make a career out of the things I am interested in and like to do. Somehow to help me navigate where I could go, and how I go about getting going. I want you to have a supportive atmosphere so that I feel like I can be myself, and I don’t have to worry about what I say or do all of the time.
I know you can’t be everything to me. I don’t want you to wholly consume my life, but I would like you to give me a way to explore parts of myself that I don’t use as a wife, or a baker, or a daughter. I’d kind of like the opportunity to geek out a little—to grow in ways that I wouldn’t in other ways in my life. To do some math! I’d like you to appreciate me in other ways that might be unexpected and might surprise me so I can learn to appreciate myself in those ways too.
I know you won’t fix all of my problems, or be able to deal with all of my stuff, or tell me exactly what I need to do with myself, so I’ll be happy with a little bit of guidance, and a lot of understanding and compassion.
I hope that this explains a lot about me and what I’m after. I’m really looking forward to finding you and learning more about you.
Respectfully,
Marcy
@Marcy — Wow. That is fabulous. If I were hiring — for anything — I’d want to talk to you!
.-= Kathleen Avins´s last post … Dramatis personae =-.