Among other things.
To my feet.
Dear feet,
I am sorry that I have neglected you. You must feel really tired.
Even though it might seem like I don’t appreciate you even slightly, I do.
Know that there is a warm epsom salt bath in your (very near) future as a thank you for moving me from place to place.
I get that a letter from me is hardly a substitute for some real attention. A start?
To my day.
Dear day,
Wow. Already here.
I must admit to feeling just the tiniest bit apprehensive about your arrival, given all the things that want doing and saying and thinking and deciding.
If there is any way you can offer me reassurances, yay.
Here’s what I would like. I would like you to be filled with trust and a sense of being grounded. Stability.
And I will do what I can to stay aware of where and when these qualities are showing up, as well as the times when I’m having difficulty connecting to them.,
Open to being surprised about all sorts of things today.
To my resistance.
Dear resistance to writing these letters, hi.
Yes, you have a place too.
Even though you worry about me becoming (more of) a hippie tree-hugging yoga teacher, I want you to know that you are not in danger of losing me.
You know me. And in all of the wild things that have happened over the past several years, you know that I have not lost my sense of humor.
I have not lost my sarcastic bitchiness and I have not lost my impatient eye-rolling. Right? It’s still me.
So even though you think that if I let myself write little letters to things that may or may not be able to respond, I will become someone who is gullible, easy to deceive, easily hurt …
This is not what’s going on here.
Thank you for trying to keep me from losing myself. And please know that all these things I experiment with are not intended to turn me into someone else. They’re helping me to get closer to myself.
And yes, I get that you think I might discover that my “true” self is an annoying, preachy, holier-than-thou person who wears white robes and speaks only in ridiculous cliches about how life is a blessing. Oh god what if that happens.
It’s not going to happen, sweetie.
I know who I am. And the essence of me — the core Havi-ness — isn’t going anywhere. I am allowed to contain contradictions.
Oh yes. I am allowed to be a yoga teacher and the Head Shivanaut and a bad-ass pirate queen and someone who writes letters to her day and someone who thinks this is stupid, all at the same time.
I hope this explanation makes it easier for you to let me write these, because I really want to write them.
p.s. I won’t tell anyone how much you like talking to trees when no one’s watching.
Trees.
Dear trees,
I love you.
Morning yoga practice.
Dear morning yoga practice,
I know you miss me.
Maybe not as much as I miss you but still.
Know that when I do a calf stretch on the stairs, or a lazy forward bend while standing in line, I am thinking of you and we are together.
Every piece counts. And yes, you are allowed to feel frustrated that we don’t have as much time together right now.
Working towards it. Coming home to you.
To my bed,
Dear bed,
Please hold me in love and comfort.
To my body,
Dear body of mine,
You are loved.
Even though you might feel pretty annoyed with me right now, I just want you to know that I am with you.
I will get you pillows and baths and yoga and time. And napping.
I will feed you and clothe you and whisper things to you. Sometimes we will fight. Because I forget.
And sometimes we will have long, unhappy discussions. And sometimes we will cry.
I’m with you. You are loved. Even when I say harsh things. Even when I cannot like you or myself.
This doesn’t have to make sense.
Tonight’s sleep.
Dear tonight’s sleep,
Help me feel safe.
If you could be restful, restorative and take care of me, that would be awesome.
If there is anything that needs processing (and I’m just going to assume there is lots of that), please let it happen gently and thoroughly, without disturbance.
Missed connection.
Me: Sleepy woman in her 30s. Green eyes. Wearing a purple dress and extremely hot red boots.
You: My afternoon nap. Skinny. Cute. Nice smile.
We looked longingly at each other but I had to catch a cab and then do a bunch of things. I wish I’d had the courage to just say what the hell and take you right there in the middle of the day.
That would have been great.
Find me?
Comment zen for today.
You can play too! Extremely brief (or long, rambling) letters to editors, internal or otherwise, are all welcome.
We don’t give advice and we don’t edit for each other. We respect the fact that we’re all working on our stuff and that sometimes it’s hard. xox
Follow
Wow… I totally love this.
Might have to try it myself!
(My feet need some love, too. Poor, poor feet.)
.-= Lucy Viret (aka randomling)´s last post … Thinkings about church. =-.
Dear my embarrassment at wanting to comment on pretty much every one of Havi’s posts with “what a great idea!” and then never actually getting around to implementing them:
It’s okay. We’ll do this one as a trial and see how it goes. If that works out, maybe we’ll do another. I’m okay with baby steps.
love,
Chris
.-= Chris Anthony´s last post … Looking for feedback – new design =-.
That has to be the sexiest letter ever written to a nap. 🙂
**Hugs**, Havi.
.-= Hiro Boga´s last post … Laps, Sailboats, Surfboards and Tides… =-.
Dear brain of mine,
Why can’t you just work right, huh? I try to take care of you. Really. I eat healthy food. I exercise. I do stuff you’re interested in. And still you make me feel like crap. You conjure up railroad spikes in my eyeballs and clog dancers on my head and crying and panic and wanting to sleep 20 hours a day and feeling like a good-for-nothing sloth because I want to sleep so much instead of being productive like normal people with healthy brains.
All of which makes me feel like I’m still doing something wrong, like if I just made the right change in my diet, then you’d work right. So it’s all my fault.
Well, I’m sick of it! Give me some kind of sign that you appreciate all I’m doing for you! Work already, dammit!
love, Riin
P.S. I really do appreciate all the things you do right. I’m just cranky about the things you don’t do right. Please do those things right too so I don’t feel like crap. Please?
P.P.S. I apologize for maligning sloths.
.-= Riin´s last post … Marbles =-.
To my at-this-moment-in-life guides / co-adventurers:
Just want to report that my lunar resolution (just from the last full moon to the next) is to work on my stuff.
And to say thanks for offering your thoughts and ideas about CREATIVE ways to go about that. So much more inviting than the “systematic” or “make a hierarchical list” way of approaching it.
I love the idea of a letter to a day.
Dear today,
I know you only have so much space, so much time. And that’s cool. 24 hours is 24 hours is 24 hours. I know.
But it’s hard for me to look at all of the wonderful things going on in my life, and know there’s way more than you can hold. They’re all good, there’s nothing I’m hating or dreading or even fighting (well, not too much) about.
There’s just more than you can hold.
There’s more than I can hold all at once, too.
But I promise I won’t fuss at you about it. I promise I’ll keep in mind all your sisters and brothers and great-aunts and 2nd cousins once removed. We’re all a big gang together, moving through time, and there’s no deadline. Time will keep unfolding.
Huh. I bet you already know that secret? That time keeps unfolding?
I would like to ask for one thing, though. If I forget this, if I get anxious about all this good stuff that you can’t hold, will you remind me? Will you show me the gorgeous sky, will you show me the colors of the plants and trees and flowers and grass? Will you reassure me about this time thing? Remind me to breathe? To trust?
Thanks.
Love ya.
Karen
Dear Internet Havi,
You f-in’ slay me with these letters every time. They so totally rock.
Dear Self,
Write letters to everything more often.
cheers,
andrea
Dear Future,
We have chosen each other. You offered yourself, and today I accepted you. I don’t think many people have that happen in such a concrete way, and I promise to honor it. Sometimes we’ll fight, sometimes I’ll doubt you, sometimes I’ll feel like I don’t deserve you. But I promise to remember our choice, and to remember that we did our best to make it in the best way we could. Let’s be fabulous and have fun together soon!
—-
Dear Present,
It’s so hard to remember you sometimes. I’ve been really busy with Future lately, and I’ve been neglecting you. We both know it. Thank you for not reminding me too harshly this time. Let’s be together for a while this afternoon, and get me caught up on everything you have going on. I know we’re going to be super busy for a while, and it’s going to be difficult, but I think we can handle it. And I promise to take good care of myself so I can take good care of you.
—-
Dear Past,
You’ve never left me. Sometimes I say that I wish parts of you would; but I wouldn’t be me without them, so I don’t think I do really. It is useful to have you with me, and I’m grateful for you. If you could, though, please remember that I prefer to call you; don’t call me, or if you do please understand when I don’t answer. I know you’re trying to help (aren’t you?), but right now I need to keep my attention on other things. Just be patient. You’re not being left out, I promise.
Love and kisses,
Me.
Dear Thursday evenings:
I have no idea how you got to be so cranky.
Well, okay, yes, I guess I do have some idea. You’re filled with people who are desperately seeking Friday night, people whose Sunday night hopes were less than fulfilled, people who’ve been working hard and sleeping badly and just want a break, dammit.
Thing is, I remember the better times, and the memory makes my heart ache. I remember when Thursday evenings were our super-secret-stealthy head start on the weekend, ’cause everybody knows that Fridays don’t really count as work days, right? Nah, everybody cuts everybody else a whole lot of slack on Fridays — and it used to begin on Thursday evenings.
I don’t know quite what happened to us, but I want our old relationship back. Please?
I’ll do my part. I’ll cook dinner for you, so that my stay-at-home sweetie can have the break he craves. I’ll be as kind to everyone as I know how to be. I’ll try to do a better job of managing my own energy, so that I still have a little bit left by the time you come knocking.
Could you please, please meet me halfway, though? Because that would be so wonderful. Thanks in advance…
(P.S. Dear Dissertation Topic: C’mon over and meet me here on the next VPA day. We don’t know each other very well yet, you and I, but I want you to meet all of my friends at Havi’s place. And no, it’s not because you scare me silly. Well, okay, maybe it is. Just a bit.)
.-= Kathleen Avins´s last post … When the going gets tough… =-.
Ha. These are GREAT. Love.
@Kat – your postscript is the best. I love that you’re setting up a secret pre-assignation assignation with your dissertation topic. That is the best.
@Beth – oh the sweetness.
@Chris – what a perfect thing. I need to write to my embarrassment too. Wow.
Oh, all of these are completely inspiring. And now I want to write MORE letters. And borrow all of yours. Seriously, it’s just so good to read other people’s letters. We need to put together a collection.
Havi, what a great idea putting together a collection. I am not sure what your feelings are on mainstream book publication (mine are varied), but you must have so much fodder at this point!
These are really amazing letters. Here’s mine:
Dear insecurity:
There is no part of me you don’t touch. Sometimes so much so that I think we are one and the same.
But we’re not. I am not you, you are not me. I am tired of how you louse up my body, my mind, my heart. I’m sick of trying to figure out where I begin and you end.
While you may have served a purpose in my life at one point, you don’t any longer. We’re just no good for each other anymore.
Consider this your eviction notice. Pack your things up and get out.
Dear feeling of Accomplishment,
I love you. No, really, I know I spend a lot of time finding stealthy ways to avoid you, but it’s only because I worry about becoming too addicted and burning myself out.
You are bright, and wonderful, and I am going to try to court you this Spring so we can spend a lot of time together in the next few months, so I can have my outcome.
You make me smile. Let’s hang out.
Love,
Me
.-= Amy Crook´s last post … Hooray! =-.
Dear Havi,
I heart you. Seriously. Thanks for making the past couple of years quite a lot better than they might have been without your bloggy self. And today specifically, thank you for bringing LETTERS to my attention. I got some that need writin’.
Many blessings,
Tracy (a work in progress)
.-= Tracy´s last post … Retrospective: Transformed by Touch =-.
Dear Book,
I am learning how to write you as fast as I can. That isn’t very fast, because while I’ve written before, I’ve never done writing-writing before. I played with it. And while creating you is still joyous play, it is, and you are, deadly-serious play. That is something that is new in my life.
So bear with me, please? Don’t leave. I’ve almost got you plotted now. I’m just slotting the interconnections into place, and then I can start crafting words to hang on your bones. But to stand upright and interest readers, you need bones, so be patient with me while I carve them for you.
Thanks, Book. I’ve enjoyed our journey together so far, and I hope you’ll stick with me for another hundred thousand or so words.
Love,
Vienne
Dear inadequacy –
Today you and I didn’t spend so much time in each others presence. It was nice and calming and productive. I really didn’t realize how badly I missed the days before we met.
Oh wait, we’ve always known each other haven’t we? We’ve used pet names for each other – procrastination, pointlessness, unproductive, unequal, not enough, Inowanna iguana and others I can’t recall.
It might be time for us to do a trial separation. I’m certain this is as hard for you as it isn’t for me. I know there will be some emptiness because you filled so much space. Yet if today is any indication I prefer emptiness.
Look I’ll call you later okay. Not.
Dear emptiness –
It became a pleasurable surprise sitting with you today. All those other times when you were
chaperonedaccompanied by inadequacy, you felt so deep and abyss like.I have to say, initially you felt like your old self but then, there it was, this spark, just an inkling of spaciousness. And that was nice.
I am so glad I didn’t try to fill you with worry.
I am certain if we sit together starting with these small increments, we could become the best of friends.
I certainly hope so because it was a treat being with you today.
Dear Trees –
I’m with Havi. I love you.
Dear this week’s sleep (tonight to next wednesday night),
Help me feel safe and supported.
If you could be restorative and keep those dreams down to a soft setting. Please let the processing be gentle with me. Thank you.
In trust,
Rose
~~~~~~
Dear tomorrow,
You have so much potential. I’m asking for a gentle reminder that I have a lot to do and that I can do it without harming myself. I can finish all the tasks without wearing myself out or eating too much/little.
Remind me that I can do this in a safe and gentle space. That I’m in safety. Thank you.
In awe,
Rose
Dear Lonely Heart,
I’m uncertain what has shifted or changed recently to make you feel sadder, heavier, and more alone than in the past. I am working on experiencing it, understanding it, and on listening and supporting you. I want you to know that I’m here for you, and we will get through this together. This is the first step for us to really talk, and I’m happy about that, even though this is a bit scary for me. I hope that we can learn from this experience together.
Much love and many hugs.
dear super hero, warrior spirit competence and confidence,
where the hell are you? why do you come and go so quickly? why not stay awhile some time? i’m sorry i question you. i’m sorry i don’t look for you in the right places. i wish i knew where to find you all the time.
there is so much in my life that i love and that totally rocks our world when we’re together and i know it’s hard to still share me with so much other less than rocking stuff but i need you to get me through that too so that i can find a way to let it all go and really just focus on the stuff i love… i know… i’m trying.
i’m sorry that i internalized so much crap about all or nothing when i was growing up. i’m working on it, please don’t abandon me forever. I can do this, please wait for me, please help me.
Much love…
dear little scattered brain,
i would really like a little encouragement, a little motivation to actually start doing some of the things on my ever growing to-do list instead of spending all my time reading about other people galloping through life with joy and fearlessness… doesn’t that sound like fun? wouldn’t you all like to try it some time?
think about it…
see you in the morning…
galloping…
really.
xox
Dear Little Shoulder-Angel,
I hear you whispering in my ear, and I know you want me to be a good person. I know that’s probably best for me in the long run.
But I’m still going to listen to the other guy sometimes, all right? No hard feelings.
Look, if you want to go on a crazy bender and maybe get something pierced, I promise I won’t tell anyone. You work hard, you deserve it.
Vale,
Me
Dear New School,
You are new and that is kind of scary. You are full of new people I have to get used to teaching with, a new desk I haven’t sat at yet, new students I have to do my self-introduction with. The newness of you is freaking me out right now, especially because we’re meeting under such gross circumstances. And I’m worried that you’re going to be just like the old school or maybe even worse. And hey, maybe you are worried about the newness of me, too.
But here is the thing, New School: I want to like you.
I want to look forward to going to you for one week a month. I want to have an awesome relationship that is full of joy and not dread. I want to get along well with my coworkers and have desk neighbors to talk to.
And so, New School, I am sending you this letter today to let you know that I’m on my way over. I hope our first meeting goes well. I’ll bring you some cake on Monday.
-Susan
Dear money anxiety,
I know you’re trying pretty hard to get my attention now because I’m learning new stuff about money and you and ways to help us all work together better. And I know we’ve done stuff like this before and it scared you and made you want to freak me out so I’d stop scaring you.
I think this time you can relax a little. I know you’ll still be vigilant, but maybe we can, y’know, talk instead of screaming. I’m doing this learning thing step by step and I’m really, really, really paying attention and being really, really careful.
I promise we’ll take breaks and knit and read happy stories in between doing the scary stuff. Okay? If you will talk instead of scream, that will be wonderful.
Thanks.
.-= Anna-Liza´s last post … Pollyanna Pops Her Head In Between Movies =-.
Dear Body,
I love you. I really do. I know you don’t trust me. You have good reasons. But yet you continue to love me. I’m sorry – and I promise to continue to do better. Also, I hope you are enjoying the longer sessions of yoga. I am. I’m not entirely sure the sessions were so short for so long, but I think we’re back on track again.
Love, Me
Dear Sleep,
We have such a tumultuous relationship. Some days we’re really really good. Some days we’re really really bad. Let’s work on that, shall we? I feel like our relationship has the potential to be constant and true. I want that.
Lovingly, Me
.-= Elizabeth´s last post … a wordless poem =-.
Ohhhh… This could be never-ending! SO fun! Thanks, Havi!
Dear feather earring I lost at the Taj Mahal:
We had such great times together. I remember when I first saw you. It was perfect. I had to have you. I knew you were meant for me, and I didn’t hesitate.
I miss you. Your earring-mate misses you.
I miss knowing you are dangling from my ear, an expression of my utter hippieness. I miss feeling you softly rubbing up against my neck. Tickling my jaw.
Though we miss having you near, we will both be happy, remembering you are in a place of Love.
With love,
Melody
.-= Melody´s last post … Less analysis, more intuiton please! =-.
Dear mind,
You are so amazing. How you are able to make so many connections instantaneously boggles my mind. I’m in awe!
I have to say, I don’t enjoy it much when your perception makes for connections that bring up not-so-happy feelings… Sometimes, you go into overdrive and I wish you would just shut up. But I AM grateful for you. You open up pathways for insight and transformation. And hey.. Those feelings you bring up make me human and connect me to the fabric of the planet. (Hey, feelings! I’m grateful for you too! Yes, even when you are a bit sucky.)
All I ask is if it would be possible for you to make some space for silence sometimes. I know you are very smart and have tons of things to say, but sometimes I just need quiet. Some time to just be.
Did you know that sometimes, the best way to make a decision is not to make one with your mind? I know! It’s so interesting! Sometimes it’s better to trust intuition.
Ahh.. Trust! Yes, we both have issues with that. Let’s work on those together.
In return for all this, I promise to do my best not to get mad at you when you interrupt my ability to feel the moment fully. I will remember that you are just trying to help, and very lovingly ask you to trust me again.
Deal?
Always with love,
Melody
.-= Melody´s last post … Less analysis, more intuiton please! =-.
Dear writers block,
….
….
….
Wow. You’re good.
Love, Kristy