So last week at Camp Biggification (which was amazing, by the way), I inflicted some serious Shiva Nata on everyone.

Epiphanies were had. Worlds were shaken. The usual.

And we took a lot of notes.

Here are some of my scribbled notes (the ones I’ve been able to decipher so far) in answers to questions I asked following the first round of mad neuron-connecting brain training.

Half the time I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I remember writing with astonishing certainty.

The questions didn’t necessarily make sense, but the answers were right there. Anyway, I thought you might find it interesting.

“What to I know about reflecting and reflections?”

It’s how I give, without having to give myself. Or give of myself.

It’s like the truth behind invisibility. That your work doesn’t have to be about you.

That there is safety in letting others see themselves through encountering you.

And, at the same time, there is power in visibility too because it inspires other people to do what they need to do.

And if you can teach the mechanics of hiding behind mirrors, everyone gets to be reflections.

Also: distinctions and discernment are related to this theme of reflecting. And that’s important.

Reflecting is the easiest way to teach.

“What gives me safety? What helps me feel safe?”

Boundaries that are clear and loving.

Taking time to prepare myself for being in the world.

Space. In the sense of room. And in the sense of time. And also visually.

Lots of white space.

Also knowing where I stand. But without being crammed in.

I don’t like it when people have expectations of me.

“What are some of the mirrors that I get to hide behind?”

Love.

I can mirror love.

I can see beautiful things. Potential. Possibility.

Process too. I can mirror a process by being in it.

Mirror = [+ reflection] [+ magic] [+ transmission] [+ transition]

It is also a form of invisibility.

“What is missing?”

Time.

I don’t know if this means that need to allow time for a necessary gestation period that I’m avoiding.

Or if it means I have to put aside time for a thing. Like going off and hiding in a cave.

Is this just my thing about oh no there’s no time when actually there is time?

No. There’s something here about using time differently, relating to time differently, changing my relationship to time.

But not in some cheesy time management seminar way. Truly altering the structure of the relationship.

“What do I know about my relationship to chaos?”

I fear it and crave it.

I love the edges.

And I am intrigued by everything that crumbles.

That delicious moment of falling apart.

But then there’s the moment when you don’t quite trust the new thing coming in.

That precipice point. It’s pretty terrifying.

“Why am I here now?”

To take care of myself.

To practice what is hard for me but to do it with love.

To make things right with the parts of me that I have turned away from.

To be surprised.

To create spaces for my people. Really safe spaces where you get to practice giving support and be supported. And where silliness and play are important.

To learn about the relationship between form and power.

“What do I need?”

Reassurance. Safety. Time. Again.

Places to go — actual physical places — where I can process things.

To be able to receive appreciation without taking on other people’s stuff.

To be connected to that nameless internal spinal fluid essence.

And to do it with such certainty and clarity that my me-ness is unmissable and unmistakable.

Play with me?

The thing with your brain is that it loves to solve problems.

And when you ask it a question or toss a puzzle in its general direction, it will go to work trying to come up with a solution.

So even if you’re not a Shivanaut yet, you can play too. If you feel like it.

Ask yourself a question, start writing, see what comes up.

Maybe something will surprise you. Worst case, you learn more about something you already knew.

Internet hugs all around.

The Fluent Self