very personal adsPersonal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Oh, hey there, VPAs.

As always happens right after Rally (Rally!), I have way more information about what I want… both in life and in general.

And I feel less conflicted about wanting it.

On the other hand, I’m also hyper-conscious of all the things that aren’t working or feel incongruent.

Anyway, all my asks this week have to do with Hoppy House, and giving my home some serious warm, loving attention.

Thing 1: changing/adjusting my concept/definition of “home”.

Here’s what I want:

This word needs some rewriting.

Or: I need to give it a new definition.

Either way, I want to feel less conflicted and more sparkly about this thing that is HOME and a home for me.

Ways this could work:

I can invite metaphor mouse to come and save the day!

I can OOD it.

And I can reread my post about how everything is a home for everything else, and maybe that will spark some things.

Also, I can interview Slightly Future Me since she’s already figured this thing out.

I’ll play with…

Getting quiet.

Investigating internally and looking at threads and themes. Like hidden associations, personal style, desire, etc.

Thing 2: new curtains for the kitchen.

Here’s what I want:

I am done now — now? now! — with things that belonged to Claudia, even the things that I like.

Suddenly it seems very important for my space to hold all — and only — things of my choosing.

Some of that is impossible at the moment, of course. But it’s a theme. And I’m following it. Seems like an important symbolic change.

[And yes, I just realized this is actually a proxy for another thing.]

Ways this could work:

Didn’t someone recently tell me about a place where they had tiny kitchen-window curtains?

I can’t remember.

I’ll play with…

Looking, exploring, thinking about color and pattern.

Also I want to talk to Rebecca’s friend, who will have ideas.

Thing 3: tablecloths, kind of.

Here’s what I want:

Beautiful, fun, lusciously patterned tablecloths.

Okay, so here’s the thing about this one. When I was on chrysalis and then at Rally last week, Luscious Me made a surprise appearance.

As it turns out, she’s hilarious, feisty, very opinionated, and she wants EVERYTHING to feel luscious.

Sometimes (most of the time) I do not have even the slightest idea what that means. But then I’ll be considering a thing, and she’ll ask: “But is it luscious?“.

And then I have to admit that no, it isn’t. Then we find a solution that *is* luscious, and everything is better.

So if she says tablecloths have to be luscious, then they have to be luscious.

Ways this could work:

There’s a place in Multnomah Village that might have what I’m looking for. But I will also peek downtown.

I’ll play with…

Trusting my instincts.

I don’t know why it’s so hugely important to Luscious Me that we have tablecloths now and this particular kind and that they be “luscious”…

But it seems like it’s really a big deal, so I’m just going to go with it.

And if the monsters don’t like it (they don’t!), we can ask the board of internal scientists to test the hypothesis that Luscious Me might have a point. And then we’ll take notes.

Thing 4: the hamsa

Here’s what I want:

[Silent retreat!]

Ways this could work:

Staying focused on the qualities involved inside of this want:

Beauty. Permission. Safety. Steadiness. Truth. Remembering. Signs. Trust. Sustainability. Transition.

I’ll play with…

Drawing it.

Thing 5: writing out the dream.

Here’s what I want:

I finally got a glimpse (thanks to a spectacular shivanautical epiphany) of what I want my house to look and feel like.

Now I’d like to document as much of this as possible and write the vision into being.

Ways this could work:

Sitting. Waiting. Playing.

Skipping some stones.

I’ll play with…

The part about permission to want.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

You guys! Last week was AMAZING. Hard, but amazing. And the Very Personal Ads (which I wrote on the bus back to Portland) seemed so far-away and impossible, but then the most incredible and astounding things happened anyway.

The ask about taking my time and permission to take time was hugely helpful.

Then I wanted help with my ongoing investigation into my new role at Stompopolis, and I had a massive epiphany that completely solved everything.

I had lots of asks related to Rally (Rally!), and they all came true.

The BIG ask was about courage, and it was there when I needed it. In fact, I kind of snuck in a mini-ask inside of that ask, hoping that the courage would show me the next step so I could do the thing eventually. But I was able to do the thing immediately!

Also I wanted to use Playing Hooky as my proxy mission for Rally, and that was surprisingly useful.

There was something about Revue, which also happened.

And then I wanted a toiletry bag but not to call it that. And I totally did not explain that ask very well, sorry! I wanted the bag itself to put the containers in, not the containers/system, but that didn’t come across very well. A lesson to me in being more clear, which I can always use!

Thanks, Jesse, for suggesting the just-right thing, and to absolutely everyone for being loving and creative and throwing lots of ideas out there. Yay, VPAs!

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

  • Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
  • You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
  • Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
  • Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
  • VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

The Fluent Self