What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Friday Chicken #226: Hermitsgiving.
Where I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Hey. So. Those of you who can read between the lines have probably figured out that this has been a rough year for me, with the past few months getting progressively more rough.
I can’t talk about it here, partly because I’m not at liberty to discuss most of it and partly for other reasons. So I apologize for being cryptic, and yes, things have been pretty hellish for me, and I am waiting for a lot of different situations to resolve themselves.
In the meantime, I am using — and living by — the stuff that we practice and play with here. And that’s what is helping me with this challenging experience. So thank you for playing with me and being here while I go through this.
What worked?
Canceling appointments.
I canceled everything this week and was a hermit!
This was good. I didn’t even know how much I would need this, just acting on a hunch. Past-me is a genius. Again.
Ritual.
Using the things that I taught at my Crossing the Line retreat. Over and over again.
Going to the cafe. Getting my pot of harmony. Sitting in the same chair.
This was steadying and grounding.
Bouncing it up.
I kept dancing. When in doubt, dance dance dance and then dance some more.
This is not the right thing for everyone, but it is very much the right thing for me.
Next time I might…
Change the setting. Have even more snacks stockpiled.
It is so very hard for me to be in any situation where I know that everything outside is closed. I go into deep scarcity stuff and I think that it is THEN, even as I remind myself that now is not then.
So even though past me (and loving friends) did a great job of stocking the house with good things for Hermitsgiving, I need More Of That.
And what I’m getting is that I really need to be somewhere else where I can’t think about the fact that I can’t go to the grocery store or walk to a cafe or something, because that turned out to be a much bigger trigger than I’d realized.
Like maybe spend the week at a beach house. Or on Rally.
Wear more costumes!
I am convinced that Hermitsgiving could have been improved with the addition of costumes.
Ask for help sooner.
My friends are amazing. I don’t like asking and sometimes I forget that I can. But I can.
The hard.
- Drama.
- Pointless unnecessary painful drama.
- Other people’s drama.
- Other people’s drama being loud and in my space.
- Other people needing their drama to be my drama.
- People not having the tools (or having but forgetting the tools) to turn inward and process their drama on their own.
- Not-fun phone call.
- Nightmares and waking up in the middle of the night.
- Trouble getting back to sleep.
- Doom. Doom. More doom. The doomitty doom of doom! Lots of monsters, and also some people in my life who sound a lot like my monsters.
- Sadness.
- Grief.
- Working through this ongoing personal crisis while all these other things were happening.
- I had hoped that this week would bring some ease after a massive challenge got resolved last week, and I’d apparently been really looking forward to that because all of this hard that came with this week was surprising to me.
- Too much computering.
- Rearranging the house and now my bedroom feels smaller, and I can’t decide if it is cozy and charming or if it is going to drive me crazy..
- A phone message that was full of hints of dread and doom.
- Thanksgiving. I really, really dislike Thanksgiving, for a variety of reasons that I won’t get into, but let’s just say: PTSD and panicking. Not good.
The good.
- Lots of sleep. Ten and a half hours on Friday night and again on Monday night. Naps all over the place.
- Writing and processing. So much writing!
- Saturday afternoon. Faraway playdate in a cafe. My faraway friend asleep next to me on the couch while I write. A pot of tea called Harmony. Rain outside. Soft music. Beautiful.
- Going on a fabulous storytelling adventure with the delightful @vicarpac.
- Back to my superpowers.
- Back to my strength for the first time since the Crossing. Finally. Yay. Killing it at dance class. Double yay.
- Compassion.
- Courage.
- Using the tools.
- My brother.
- Richard and Marisa.
- Cafe days. And a very productive Fake Beach Day.
- Turning the rain different colors, and also getting an unexpected clew.
- Turning Thanksgiving into Hermitsgiving. Even though it didn’t really work, it gave me a form.
- Descending to the rug for slow sweet yoga.
- Rearranging the house. Things are new and different, and now I have a writing nook!
- Sweet reassuring notes and letters and DMs from people who care and believe in me.
- Paperless, again! This app is solving all the problems. And also turning into a portable Book of Me that tells me what to do when I am in any situation.
- My playmate getting on skype at four in the morning to comfort me.
- It’s over. Friday. We’re done. Goodbye, week. It was hard and it was over.
And! No matter how hard my week is, I know that I can come here on Friday and all of you will be here with me, whether silently or in the comments. I feel hugely appreciative when I think about this blog and the people who read and keep me company. Thank you.
Superpowers!
A superpower I had this week…
Recognizing when I was grinding wheels and immediately stopping.
And a superpower I want next week.
The ability to maintain a deep, powerful, steady, loving focus on what I need. Commitment. Provision. Presence.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
Background. Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once invented hanging out at the Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band comes from Nick and it is one of my all-time favorites:
The Soft C
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
I am this close to announcing the thing that is my doing-and-teaching focus for 2013.
So if you don’t have a Gwish Kit, grab one. Because that way you’ll hear about the new stuff before everyone else and you’ll already have the prerequisite class on TIME before I write the sales page and everything goes up to full price.
That’s it for me …
Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!
We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
Shabbat shalom.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.
Secretly turning the rain into different colors.
Today I am secretly turning the rain into different colors, and this is a proxy for what I am actually going to be doing.
I want to do some writing about a (potentially) painful (to me) thing. But I also don’t want. So instead I will be secretly turning the rain into different colors.
Beginnings.
And before I do this thing that is not at all that other thing because today I am secretly turning the rain into different colors, I will begin by remembering why secretly turning the rain into different colors is important (to me).
I am going to note eighteen possible Interesting Or Useful Things about turning the rain into different colors.
Obviously I don’t know what these are yet. But I am about to discover them. Finding out what I know about what I do not know, again.
Eighteen interesting or useful things about secretly turning the rain into different colors.
- You can do the thing of secretly turning the rain into different colors while sitting in a warm cafe drinking tea. You don’t have to be outside IN the rain.
- Any color that comes to you is the right color.
- You can always change the color later if later it stops feeling like the right color.
- The rain likes having its colors secretly changed. The rain is in on the secret, you guys!
- So it’s not like I’m imposing stuff onto nature. I am playing, and nature wants to play too.
- Also it is happening secretly so no one else needs to see the color changes unless they want to and are really really really paying attention.
- Changing the colors of the rain changes the entire environment.
- Rain here comes with this very specific grey Portland-ey light. The colors that the rain becomes are startling and vivid against the grey. My city has the perfect backdrop for a sudden, unexpected, secret color change.
- My mood lifts with each new bath of color.
- This is probably where rainbows in puddles come from. That totally makes sense. Someone — someone like me who transforms external space through making changes in internal space and vice versa — is doing lots of secret-color-changing, and the colors are blending and reflecting.
- I used to think it would be really stressful to be the person who changes the colors of the rain. That it would weigh on me, all that responsibility. But actually it feels so light and playful. The secret part helps. Knowing no one is watching to see if I screw up is making the whole thing easier.
- Blue rain is my favorite rain right now. I have tried pretty much all the shades of blue that I can think of, and I like them all.
- I am drinking a tea called Harmony right now, and this is a very good name for someone in my profession: a secret changer of rain colors. The colors blend and harmonize. Each color adds to the ones that came before it, enhances the ones that will come later.
- It turns out that the rain has different functions as relates to the colors. It blends, and it washes away. It mixes and it clears out. It transports and it releases.
- The more I let the rain change colors, the more the rain is serving its purpose. Or maybe better to say: the more its purpose is apparent.
- A truth about the human experience: entropy. Everything changes. Everything ends. Everything reconfigures. This is a way to practice letting that be beautiful instead of painful.
- I like having this quiet, gentle superpower. I’m changing the environment just by being, and people can feel how everything is better but they don’t know that it’s because of what I’m doing. Just like my vision from fourteen months ago of being the queen in the hidden castle, who hums her secret hum.
- I trust myself a lot more than I would have thought. My instincts are good. I have a sense about what colors would most contribute in any moment, and when they flow into the world through the rain, everything is sweet and soft and right. Huh. Who knew.
Things that just happened! Or: things I just noticed.
I feel better about writing now! I am ready to try giving twenty minutes to the thing I was avoiding.
Proxies are the best. Always.
Everything I could possibly need to know is hidden somewhere inside of whatever seemingly-random thing my brain invents in an attempt to be playful.
Being playful is quite possibly the sneakiest and least-painful way to access truth.
The more I play, the more I discover. And the more I play, the less things hurt. And just like with changing the colors of the rain, there is no way to play wrong. As long as I stay committed to the twin superpowers of safety and sovereignty, all is well.
Commenting blanket fort. Come play, if you like.
The usual reminders: We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We make this a safe and comfortable space by taking care of ourselves while not trying to take care of anyone else, and by not giving advice.
I am receptive to: enthusiasm for how great proxies are, naming lots of beautiful colors because naming colors is fun, warm smiles, things sparked for your own process. xo
Visions #176: Something about borders
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
Each week I write these Visions of Possibility and Anticipation 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!
Doing something different this week. I’ve noticed that so much (most!) of what I want has to do with the qualities that live inside of the thing I think I want.
So I’m adding a bit about qualities to each section, and giving them their own ask at the end. We’ll see what that’s like.
Thing 1: My own personal Ducking Out.
Here’s what I want:
Okay, so the past two years I ran a special Rally over the week of American Thanksgiving.
It was called the Great Ducking Out, and it was the BEST. It turned Thanksgiving from what is (for me) something stressful and horrible, and made it shiny, cozy, sheltering and fun.
This year I’m not doing that. I have a very strong desire to be alone. But I want it to feel like the Ducking Out did.
The qualities inside of the want:
Spaciousness. Freedom. Autonomy. Quiet. Comfort. Queenliness. Safety. Warmth.
I am seeing a fireplace. Rich warm fabrics. Something about borders…
Ways this might work:
Making Thanksgiving Day into a mini-rally for me, at home.
With structures and forms. Interchangeable units that can be moved around as necessary.
Conducting, followed by Compassing, followed by Reflecting, followed by Stone Skipping, followed by old Turkish lady yoga. Like that.
I want to have things set up as much as possible in advance, so everything is ready for me and I just follow the breadcrumbs.
Hmm. Okay. I want a costume. And lots and lots of blankets. And a timetable.
And foods!
I’m playing with…
Maybe this mission needs a secret code name!
I am noticing that I am feeling worried that I won’t do anything about this until Thursday morning rolls around, so I am taking this to the Floop right now to figure it out. Maybe I can also find a friend who wants to do a similar thing (in the privacy of their own home).
And I will also write my yearly List of 77 Things. That will help.
Thing 2: All the closets become not-closets, I don’t know how to explain this yet.
Here’s what I want:
For a very long time I’ve been getting a … feeling? what is a word for something that is so much stronger than a feeling? … about my bedroom closet.
Mainly that it is not supposed to be my closet. It’s supposed to be a writing/meditation corner. And a space for napping.
Yes, it’s located IN MY BEDROOM, where there IS ALREADY A BED, but I’m apparently supposed to take naps in the closet. I know. I don’t get it either. But slightly future me has been very vocal about how important this is.
I’ve mostly been ignoring her because come on, where the hell am I supposed to put my clothes?
Except now it has become very clear (“rigorous scientific studies have shown”) that ignoring Incoming Me is the absolute worst thing I could ever do.
So. I want to turn my closet into a sort of refueling station. And I want to turn my Wish Room (formerly the office) into a giant living closet. Except not a closet.
A closet that is secretly a room for processing identity changes and desire through costume and beauty. And I want this to somehow be easy and fun and laughably inexpensive (read: doesn’t cost money at all right now).
The qualities inside of the want:
Flow. Newness. Play. Spaciousness. Shelter. Desire. Receptivity. Possibility. Reflection. Intimacy. Belonging. Congruence. Harmony.
Superpower: Everything that needs to open is opening!
Ways this might work:
I have no idea. I think I need to just start moving things around.
The dresser can go into the bedroom. The hanging clothes can go into the wish room.
Cushions on the floor.
There is also something in this about maps on walls and spaces to plant wishes.
I’m playing with…
Just starting. Being playful. Experimenting. Asking slightly future me for more information. Trusting that even though this whole thing sounds crazy, that’s okay.
Thing 3: Writing.
Here’s what I want:
There are all kinds of things I want to be writing about this week. Including:
- The treasure box and the tiny stones.
- The [thing that is not the tree of life!]
- Sitting shiva.
- Time and form.
- The year of [X and Y].
- The swap that is not a swap.
- The question of the black dress.
Oh, and I want (this is probably its own ask) to tell the list about the Gwish Kit.
The qualities inside of the want:
Spaciousness. Curiosity. Exploration. Autonomy. Creativity. Form. Flow.
Ways this might work:
Taking my Fake Beach Day at the cafe again. Talking these over with Marisa or with my playmate. Playing with this on the Floop!
I’m playing with…
Giving things time to grow without pressure.
Remembering the fractal flowers.
Thing 3: The year of [X and Y].
Here’s what I want:
I have a huge amount of information about what I want to be doing in 2013.
I want to write it all down and start consolidating.
The qualities inside of the want:
Freedom. Flexibility. Discovery. Openings. Receptivity. Passage. Enthusiasm. Creativity. Wonder. Desire.
Ways this might work:
This could be a fun project-like thing for my quiet at-home Ducking Out Day.
And it might also need a proxy. Yay. Proxies are the best.
I’m playing with…
Putting it here. Wishing the wish. Remembering.
Noticings about the things I want this week…
Anticipation. Delight. Lightheartedness. Play. Lusciousness. Desire. Smiling. Having a secret light in my heart. Excitement. Mystery.
And, as always, freedom and autonomy are hugely important to me.
Bonus wishes, please!
Some of these are secret agent code and some of them are things I’m silent retreat-ing on. Some are qualities that will help. And some are almost pre-wishes: tiny seeds for future processing.
- The vision of the castle, revisited. This time with more knights.
- Purple.
- All the points.
- A stone returns.
- The number 8 bus.
I’m playing with…
Getting quiet and listening.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Oh wow. I wanted courage to help with the not-an-identity-crisis, and it totally happened. Huge changes.
Then I wanted a just-right case for sunglasses, and found something on etsy that I like.
I wanted to announce the announcements and I have not done that, but I have been letting them percolate and have an idea about how I want to announce.
And I wanted to tell people about the Gwish Kit, which I kind of did but mostly didn’t. This is part of what I will sit with this week.
Most interesting is that I planted NINE bonus wishes, and all of them came true. Huh. Okay!
Playing. Shelter for the comments.
What’s welcome: Your own wishes, gwishes, visions and personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like. Things sparked for your own process.
I’m receptive to warm wishes for the things I’m working on and playing with.
We ask for what we need, and we give each other space and spaciousness for the process.
This is a place of safety for creative play and exploration, with a very non-dogmatic approach. We don’t tell each other how to ask for things and we don’t give unsolicited advice. We play.
That’s it. Let’s throw a bunch of things in the pot!
As always, amnesty applies. Leave a wish here any time you want.
xox
Friday Chicken #225: the Department of Magical Voyages
Where I cover the good and the hard in my week, visiting the non-preachy side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
It’s Friday!
Somehow. Hi.
What worked?
Tiny changes that are actually big changes.
I suddenly remembered again that transforming space (internal or external, doesn’t matter) changes everything.
And then I was able to let small changes become big changes.
Found a new (but it’s actually old, I’ve had this for years!) cover for the couch in my kitchen, and now everything is beautiful! And red!
Gave everything at the Playground a new home.
Got rid of clothing that is not fun to wear.
Remembered to breathe COURAGE and radiate COURAGE.
And everything started changing. It was incredible.
What’s extra-funny is that this was the actually the theme of my secret proxy project from my Crossing the Line retreat.
Flowers.
Yet again, flowers made everything better this week.
When things stopped working, I added flowers.
There will be magical voyages! It is decided.
I had to go to the DMV and I did not want to go to the DMV.
So I used the wonderful thing that is renaming everything, and now DMV stands for Department of Magical Voyages. If you’re in Europe and wondering what I’m talking about, the DMV is actually the Department of Motor Vehicles.
I did not actually think that magical or voyage-ey things would happen there, but it was a way to play.
On the way I looked for clews. And found one!
And then while I was there I told everyone there about we were there for magical voyages because look it’s the department of magical voyages, and then they helped me look for clews. Except for the ones who thought I was crazy. They left me alone. Which was also good.
And then! GET THIS. An actual magical/unlikely thing happened.
I told the man working there about the magical voyages and he was delighted. And then blah blah paperwork-paperwork. Until it turned out that they had raised the cost of the thing I was there to do and I was one dollar short.
And then he gave me a dollar. From his pocket.
A person, who works at the DMV, a place where people are known for being horrible, went out of his way, way out of his way, to help me, because I was there for a magical voyage. This is blowing my mind. I would like cheering and general excitement!
Next time I might…
I want to build in more recovery time.
I said this last week and I will probably keep saying it forever.
Remember (sooner) that Nothing Is Wrong. Everything is okay.
Whenever I remembered this, things were good.
Whenever I forgot this, things were tense.
Tell people about stuff that is for sale, silly.
I forgot to tell the list about the Gwish Kit, and now we’re almost out and I have to find out if there is a way we can order more (if that’s even possible?) because I feel bad.
And all the monsters are going on about how I always forget to tell people things and how it should have been on a stupid checklist, doom, everyone will hate me.
But monsters aside (I talked things out with them, they just want me to be adored but they forget to tell me nicely), I seriously need to remember to tell people things.
The hard.
- Fear. Fear and sadness. Stuff about THEN and how hard it was THEN, and ways that now is reminding me of then even though yes, of course, now is not then.
- People I love are far away.
- My friend that is yoga and I stopped talking to each other for a few days and we were distant and I missed my friend.
- Pain.
- Lost my notebook! Sadface mouse Havi.
- Waiting in lines.
- That thing that happens in winter when I get so tired that I can’t think of anything but sleep but then I can’t bear to nap because I WILL MISS OUT ON ALL THE DAYLIGHT FOREVER.
- The end of a friendship. Throughout these hard weeks of trying to clear up the misunderstanding, I held out hope that we would be able to bridge this. And while this person has agreed to a more calm, amicable solution, there is so much mutual sadness and disappointment, and we are going separate ways.
- Being offered an olive branch but not trusting it.
- Reconfiguring. Everything changes.
- Making changes.
- Saying goodbyes.
- Not able to talk about the goodbyes yet.
- Things unresolved.
- Things not yet done.
- People I care about deep in anxiety.
- Gaza. Be’er Sheva. The whole damn thing. My heart my heart my heart.
The good.
- Yoga came back to me and I came back to yoga and we were never really apart.
- I have a playmate and we play and play and play with words. With all the words.
- Lots of big decorative and design changes at the Playground: everything is moving and shifting, and it is the right time for this and it feels really good.
- Baked potatoes. Warm wintry stews.
- I got the response to the hardest letter, and while it wasn’t what I wanted, it also wasn’t the thing I was afraid would happen. It’s over, and over is good.
- Yoga by candlelight next to the fireplace.
- The following sentence: “I am going to serenade the pants right off you.”
- Slowly-slowly-slowly starting to feel like a gazelle again. Able to dance again.
- My missing notebook! It returned to me! Incredible.
- Rewrote the shop page.
- Reconfigured the shiva nata website. This was much more hard than good but it was important and needed to be done, so I want ALL THE POINTS for doing it..
- Had a long talk with my favorite uncle and he understood about all the hard things and everything was better.
- THE GWISH KIT! I am enthralled with this year’s Gwish Kit. Full-on adoration.
- On Wednesday I woke up and I wanted to be doing again. That was amazing. I mean, doing stuff was amazing, but *wanting* to be doing. I have been waiting for this.
- I wrote a blog post. Ha. See, monsters?
- I got this app called Paperless because Briana recommended it, and ohmygod I am so crazy in love with it. Head over heels. Paperless + Havi forever. I am carving hearts into the internet. You guys! <3
- Thursday was Puttering Day, and Puttering Day was exactly what I needed.
- Small changes turned into big changes.
- I had a big realization/understanding/idea and it is a very promising one.
- Did a thing that I promised (months ago!) that I would do for slightly future me, and it felt really good.
- Presence. And courage.
Superpowers!
A superpower I had this week…
The superpower of All That Is Mine Comes Back To Me.
The superpower of Incremental Progress. Remembering that steps matter. Tiny mini-incrementlets count too. I lost this one for a few days and then I remembered it again.
And a superpower I want next week.
The superpower of remembering about fractal flowers, and activating them by thinking about them!
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
Background. Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once invented hanging out at the Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band comes to you courtesy of … my monsters.
It’s called:
This Is A Disaster.
They’re loud and break stuff, and they also have a couple slow ballads in there somewhere if you wait long enough.
Though, of course, yes. Yes. As it turns out, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
Seriously. Get the Gwish Kit. The Gwish Kit! I recommend.
Eventually I will maybe write some copy about why this is a big deal. In the meantime, go see the Gwish Kit. It’s right here.
That’s it for me …
Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!
We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
Shabbat shalom.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.
The Herbert Hoover Button.
In the home I grew up in, wordplay (emphasis on punnery) was the primary form of communication.
At some point, at the age of oh, maybe fifteen, it suddenly dawned on me that other people, ones who are not related to me, have conversations over dinner. Weird, right?
Why would you… what is it exactly… talk to each other when you could be playing the best and only game?
When you could be engaged in zippy exchanges, delightedly outdoing each other with hilarious and preposterous playing-with-words. Interspersed, of course, with long periods of silence during which everyone is trying to think of A REALLY GOOD ONE.
Anyway, that kind of explains a lot about a lot.
Aside: I do actually understand now about conversations and why people have them!
But the reason I’m bringing this up is: Herbert Hoover.
Herbert ****ing Hoover, people.
Herbert Hoover is how we would call an end to the wordplay.
Maybe because otherwise no one can ever go to bed because oh god you want so badly to think up just one more good one.
Or maybe there are no more good ones. You’ve already deteriorated into the most awful of the awful puns, the ones that don’t even work. But you still can’t stop.
Or you’re not in the mood, you’re running out of gas. So you Herbert Hoover it.
You could just say it: HERBERT HOOVER! Or you’d work a reference — something-something, the 31st President of the United States… into the game itself.
To Herbert Hoover something was to end the game. Boom. I just Herbert Hoovered this.
My brother and I still do this all time. We Herbert Hoover whatever needs to end.
This is what is missing from my life right now.
Not the puns. I make puns all the time. With the First Mate and at Rally and with my playmate and inside my head.
But the Herbert-Hoovering. The quick way to end something that is dragging on.
For example…
Okay. One thing I know (from experience and because the Book of Me has endless notes about this) is that spending more than about three minutes on facebook/twitter/instagram/whatever will drive me mad.
And even then I can only look at very specific things.
Or: I know to NEVER read any comments written anywhere on the internet, except for here because people here are amazing, and also because I have gotten way better over the years at clearly stating what I want.
But I forget these things.
I want a Herbert Hoover button.
Not a pin! A button.
I want a Herbert Hoover button at the end of everything I read on the internet.
That is only visible to me, I guess? I don’t know. Just a little reminder:
Hey sweetie. Guess what, my love? You read this thing and now you can be done. You do not have to read the responses or the next thing or the rest of the things. The internet will always be there. And you will feel better if you stop now.
A reminder in secret agent code. Herbert Hoover = hidden permission slip to just stop.
And I want a Herbert Hoover button at the end of every New Yorker article so that I remember that I don’t actually have to read the whole thing.
I want a Herbert Hoover button for other things too. For skype conversations. For regrets. For old sick relationships. For projections and narratives about things that are not true.
I want to Herbert Hoover everything that is long-done, and to be able to let the act of ending — at least sometimes — be that simple:
Herbert Hoover. I said it. It’s done.
What would that be like?
Ending all the endings.
So now I am breaking my own rule about not writing conclusions. Because I just realized something important about Herbert Hoover that will not surprise you at all. Namely that this wish, for me, is — like everything else here — about play.
It’s about the intersection between play and mindfulness. About creativity, permission, sweetness, amnesty, exploration, trust, sovereignty, freedom spaciousness, and peacefulness.
About using words (or anything you want!) to transform space, to change experience.
That’s what I’m playing with.
Invocation. Incantation. Truth. Herbert Hoover.
Play with me? The collective commenting blanket fort.
Today I am going to pretend that there are actual Herbert Hoover buttons everywhere and I will say Herbert Hoover all day, to ritualize endings and transitions.
I am receptive to: other people playing with me and going around Herbert Hoovering things by saying Herbert Hoover! Ending endings and closing doors. Let us joyfully and gleefully declare Herbert Hoover just because.
Obviously, because we respect other people’s space and their experience as sovereign beings, we can’t end things for other people. We are Herbert Hoovering things for ourselves.
And, you might find that some things might not want to be Herbert Hoovered. Possibly because they aren’t ready to be done — maybe something is still processing or percolating. But you can try saying Herbert Hoover anyway, just to see what it sparks for you.
As always, we practice. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
The end. I mean: HERBERT HOOVER!
p.s. If you are getting ready to Herbert Hoover 2012, as I am, I will point you to the hidden-delights-filled 2013 Playground calendar from the new Gwish Kit. Ohmygod ohmygod. I wonder if I can get my designer to put a tiny Herbert-Hoover reference in December. What do you think?