On Day 2 of the last Rally (Rally!), I spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon creating a giant treasure map.

A treasure map! Because that was the big idea that our morning group Shiva Nata flailing gave me.

My monsters did not like this one bit. And they did not want to eat a cookie or go to a safe room. They wanted to rant and rage about what a colossal waste of time this was.

So I let them. I gave them their own notebook, and — in between pasting, coloring, drawing, cutting, arranging and sparkling bits and pieces of the treasure map — they got to have their say about how I am on an extremely doomed path to the doom of doom.

And then I was done and I had my treasure map.

It was very much not clear what was supposed to happen next.

The treasure map was simplistic. Highly stylized. Colorful. Shiny.

It was pretty, but I didn’t know what it meant or what I was supposed to do with it.

The monsters: “SEE? Doom! You wasted your precious extra-insanely-productive rallying time on arts and crafts?! Doom!”

I thought about fractal flowers and how everything has a hidden purpose, and how at Rally we follow the rabbit holes and infuse projectizing with curiosity, sweetness, movement and surprises.

But I still didn’t know what to do with the treasure map.

I had too much on my mind.

The creepy letter I’d received. And that awful feeling of something is in my space and I don’t know how to disappear it, or if I have the right to.

Not making progress on something that needed progress. And conflict with someone, which was really weighing on me.

Plus all the monsters.

So I decided any or all of these things could be walked through the treasure map.

Just like when we do Shiva Nata. We take the thing we want (or the thing we want to be done with), and we run it through a series of algorithms. Using our body. Sometimes we add words, and then those words become part of the process of de-patterning and re-patterning.

Instead of running my issues through the ever-more-complex cycles of the dance, I was going to lead them through the different pieces of the map.

Bringing it to the map.

This is what happened when I took the Creepy Letter Situation to the treasure map.

It’s a little weird, but then again you were probably expecting that.

Attuning to the map.

There are seven parts to the map. A secret walled garden, the hidden pool, the radiant sun, the ladder that is also a bridge, the grove of trees, the wishing well that reflects my qualities back to me, and the house that is just for me.

What are the qualities and essence of this Treasure Map?

Spaciousness. Belonging. Safety. Patterns. Shelter. Creativity. Forgiveness. Recovery.

I go into the secret walled garden. What does it tell me?

This is your home. You are safe here. You are sheltered here.

Guess what? Not everything requires a response. And you do not need to interact with these things that make you uncomfortable.

That’s not what you came here to do, and you did not invite them in.

Your job is to rest, replenish and smell flowers.

Your caretakers can shred this for you. They can break it down into its essence, which is HOPE. Someone thinks you can help them.

We can bring fragrant HOPE into this garden and give them back the rest.

I enter the pool. What does it tell me?

Wash it all off. Clear out and let go. Release what is not yours.

This doesn’t need to touch you one way or the other. It is like a test of things washing off of you. Let it leave your space.

Come into a world where these old, false perceptions of “everything is dangerous” are no longer true. Where you can respond with love to yourself.

Then you will be able to see when people are being small and petty and know that it’s not personal.

I step under the sun to be dried off. What does it tell me?

Everything burns. Give it to the fire.

Be in your power and none of this stuff lands. Be in your power.

I cross the ladder that is also a bridge. What does it tell me?

Drop your pain and discomfort over the side.

In order to make this crossing you need to say goodbye to the part of you who takes things personally.

You are the one crossing the bridge now.

I hide in the grove of trees. What does it tell me?

This is not your issue. Take care of yourself first.

Give this pain-that-is-not-yours and the pain that is us and deposit it into the earth.

Watch it decompose. Just because all things and people are connected doesn’t mean you need to attach to other people. Their stuff is theirs. Your stuff is yours. Separate and strengthen.

I consult the wishing well. What does it tell me?

I am stronger than I think. I am radiant. I am strong and radiant.

This doesn’t need to touch me. Buffers and barriers.

I go into the house that is just for me. What does it tell me?

Know that all these reflections are not reflections. Return all the projections and lies.

You know who is trying to be at the front of the V? Eight year old you. She sees the world as a place of being tormented or pranked.

These are old experiences and they are not true now. You are safe.

The stuff that happened then wasn’t personal, you are not a victim, those other people were in pain and they put their pain on you.

What is the truth in the heart of those experiences?

Oh! It never has to do with me. This experience is not a shoe. I can say: hey, this isn’t okay. I am saying it right now. HEY, THIS IS NOT OKAY.

Things do not pollute my space. I can toss them or not. It doesn’t matter.

Interesting…

Oh, my monsters were abashed, in an awkward teeth-gnashing sort of way. They were both annoyed and amazed that the treasure map had solved my problem.

So I started funneling other things through the treasure map. I plugged in marketing problems and personal problems. stone skipping questions and design challenges.

Slowly the monsters started to think this was a pretty okay game. They wanted their own treasure map. A scary doom-filled one! With monster-ey things!

I told them they know where the arts and crafts table is. And then I said it out loud. The Treasure Room.

The arts and crafts supplies at the Playground live in the Treasure Room.

All day long I had been wondering where the treasure was. I thought it was in the map, but it was everywhere. Awesome.

And comment zen for today.

You can play too if you like. Put something you’re working on into any of the places on the treasure map and find out: what can this tell me about the situation I’m in?

Or you can make your own treasure map. Or talk to monsters. Or have a tiny tea party in a secret garden.

Or just be happy with me about the fact that this ended up not being a day of doom, but a door into usefulness and creative productivity.

As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We make room for everyone else to have their stuff, and we don’t give each other advice, unless someone asks. Love!

p.s. Registration for the next Shiva Nata teacher training is open as of this morning! You don’t have to want to teach — coming for the weird insights and ideas is okay too. 🙂

The Fluent Self