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 #183: It’s not that kind of preschool, Zach.
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Hey, Friday. Good to see you.
I’m getting better at remembering how this works.
Slowly, slowly.
Friday is picking up the Mercury. Friday is closing tabs. Friday is stretching to candlelight. I like you, Friday.
The hard stuff
The weekend.
The weekend was just really, really hard.
I’m going to silent retreat on the details, but hard hard hard hard.
Things that are lost and keep staying lost.
What an awful feeling.
Especially when you’re beyond beyond beyond beyond tired. Because then you can’t even begin to retrace your steps or figure out where something lost might be, or if it ever was there to begin with.
Not having a document that I need.
And then uncovering an old, painful stuck pattern at play that I totally thought was taken care of.
Not feeling strong.
There’s a certain vibrancy or vitality that cannot be present during depletion, and this is not fun for me.
My body really wants to move, and it’s also not ready to yet.
See also: that one dance class where I single-handedly demonstrated what it looks like to crash and burn ridiculously hard in public. With style!
When one thing isn’t working with my body, all the other forms and structures that hold my life together change too. Still trying to figure this one out. Getting closer, but sometimes close isn’t enough.
An uncomfortable realization.
It doesn’t translate well.
But basically….
Things are like this! I want them to be like that! But this is not news! But I still don’t like it! But I haven’t found a way out yet!
So this is what I’ll be playing with this week. Skipping stones, writing an OOD, finding out what I need to move through this.
The good stuff
The lost things found themselves.
They just appeared.
It was bizarre, but I am happy about it.
The superpower of Not Being Even Slightly Worried About Anything.
It didn’t come in the form that I was hoping for, but it’s still a really big deal.
At least now I know what that feels like. And the next step is to recreate that sensation without the accompanying tired.
Better news than I had even dared to hope for.
The bully from the Playground building is gone.
For good.
And I didn’t even have to do anything.
He removed himself.
The lease for the new space: it is so very close to signing!
Everything is looking great. The last round of lease negotiations went well, and I am feeling very excited. YAY!
Physical therapy.
That’s what Metaphor Mouse has me calling massage lately, so that I’ll actually set it up and make it happen.
Anyway, I had a spectacularly great physical therapy session this week.
Related: metaphor mousing saved my week.
I got lots of metaphor help this week, and it changed everything.
Meditation (something I love but often avoid) is now glow sitting.
LIstening to a yoga nidra recording is now internal sparkling.
Playlists for teaching are now secret soundtracks.
The process of “setting expectations” is now coming into the Practice Studio.
Anyway, metaphor mouse is how I got things done this week. And now I’m doing more of what I like, since changing all the names.
Spending time with my body and giving it loving attention.
A gorgeous partner yoga session (with Danielle as my partner).
Long, slow, old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.
Magical, deep, circular yoga using symbols and words, also at the Playground. Something I invented after doing Shiva Nata. It was beautiful.
Progress.
Learning much more about how I want to live.
And about what needs to change.
Coming up with the perfect metaphor for that.
A brilliant session with Carolyn (remember when we had hackers?), and then help from Cairene too.
Also this helped me put up my castle in the Wish Room, and that made everything better.
Presents for the Playground!
Thank you thank you, everyone.
Extra thank yous to Laura and Foxy Jess!
The fun part of the Chickening happens here.
From the archives.
Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:
- I am Resistance Mouse!.
- The second time I got fired.
Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band is brought to you by Max, who is amazing, and who was at the last Rally (Rally!).
Sequencing the Chipmunk Genome.
They’re really loud. Except when they’re not.
And yes, rest assured that it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
- You still have a chance to make it to a Rally (Rally!) in either March or June. Or September. Pretty much everything else is sold out.
- There’s still HALF OFF on tuition for the magical Floating Playground. Good through February 5. That’s already Sunday, impossible as that sounds. Being at the Floop will be like Rallying Rally all the time.
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.
Hello, February. 2012.
Heeeey, February!
I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see you, February.
Partly because this past January kicked my ass so hard that I’m excited about change in any form whatsoever. And partly because you are a symbol of incredibly special things that are happening in my life.
But anyway, I’m really glad you’re here. I’m really glad I’m here.
And maybe we can even rewrite some of the sticking points we’ve had in our relationship in the past. Who knows? Anything is possible.
Hi.
Let’s talk superpowers.
First, the superpowers of January that I want to take with me.
So yes, January hit like a giant train wreck in a lot of ways. And making my way through that experience has landed me some serious superpowers.
Here are the ones I’m planning on keeping:
The superpower of Not Worrying About Anything.
I got to this one by way of being so completely exhausted and depleted that worrying about things just seemed like another tiring activity that I didn’t have energy for.
So I’m taking the freedom of that. Taking the feeling of Peace Breathes Through Me that comes from extreme zombie tired, without taking the tired and the non-functioning.
And I’m also taking the superpowers of Flexibly Structured Morning & Evening Rituals. And the superpowers of Being Exceedingly Cautious And Discerning About What Input I Allow Into My Space.
The superpowers I’d like to experience in February.
The superpower of feeling joyful and generous.
The superpower of wanting what I want. Unapologetically.
The superpower of CONGRUENCE.
The superpower of emptying and replenishing, so that play can be really playful.
Things I’m looking forward to in February.
February is the birthday of the trees!
February is stomping through puddles in the park in my BOOTS!
February is getting ready for Now We Are Six, the birthday celebrations of The Fluent Self, Inc, magical pirate ship at large.
February is new systems.
February has Rally (Rally!).
February (this February) is the DAY OF LEAP! That’s the day that the Floating Playground finally opens. That’s the day that we have access to the new and much bigger space for the real Playground. All the good things! They are happening!
And then it’s March. And March is spring. For me.
Things I’m feeling apprehensive about in February (and my plan!)
Ugh Valentine’s Day, ugh ugh ugh.
That pretty much sums it up.
The plan? Avoid the internet at all costs. Maybe also have an open Play Day at the Playground where other Fluent Self mice can hang out. Do some Shiva Nata on LOVE, because love is amazing.
And just generally avoid the annoying pink-romantic-straight-culture overkill.
Sleep please please please please.
I am crazy determined to outdo my current record of two whole nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep.
The plan? Keep doing what I’m doing. Stone skipping, yoga nidra, tea, ritual, support, practice.
The big change.
Things are changing, and it’s big.
The plan? Mission-ready. Mission-ready. Mission-ready. And lots of breaks. Entry and exit.
Things I would like to experience in February.
Harmonious interactions.
Spaciousness and blanket forts.
Choosing carefully. Preparing for the voyage.
Excitement and glee about where this is all going.
Trust and permission.
Silliness and movement.
Clues and allies for February.
You know how I like to go searching for clews.
So here are five that I am choosing for February, without having to figure out what they mean yet or how they’re going to work together.
- The money tree in the kitchen.
- The hidden castle.
- The Cascadia flag.
- The anchor
- The color YELLOW.
And five resources or allies:
- Barbara Sher.
- Suzette Haden Elgin.
- Michelle Marlahan.
- Keren.
- The gnome.
Here we go. Flipping the page.
Here’s the February image from the Playground calendar.
Play with me? And comment zen for today.
You are welcome to write your own Hello, February.
You could write February a letter, drop off some gwishes, or give it a new name.
(If you like, peek at other months — July and August and September and October and November and December and January.)
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.
And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.
Wishing you the most beautiful and supportive February that could possibly be.
Very Personal Ads #133: doobie doo just filling something out
Personal 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!
Thing 1: Outward and inward and outward and inward.
Here’s what I want:
All of my gwishes this week seem to be about my desire for community, and about my desire for seclusion.
I am convinced that these are not even slightly contradictory, and that they support each other in important ways, so I want to spend some time investigating.
Ways this could work:
I can make lists of things that symbolize community for me, as well as things that stand for separation, withdrawing and turning inward.
And I can practice things on both sides.
Some old Turkish lady yoga for inward. Convening an Enthusiastic for outward.
Also some shivanautical epiphanies could just make everything clear and obvious. Or at least show me what the next step is.
I’ll play with…
Giving permission.
Practicing the art of wanting what I want.
Thing 2: Speaking of community…
Here’s what I want:
Okay, so I talk about roller derby all the time.
About my relationship to derby. About how outrageously great it is.
And I also know a trillion people in Portland. Or maybe I don’t know all of them personally yet, but they know me through this blog. Hi, lovely people!
I want all of us going to bouts and yelling our heads off and having the time of our lives. YES.
Ways this could work:
Maybe I’ll set up a pre-bout meet-up.
Kay’s bar, anyone? Maybe?
That way, people who would like to come watch roller derby with me could meet up with me beforehand.
I’m more than happy to explain the rules or why a penalty is a penalty. And I promise I won’t try to recruit you. Unless you want me to.
Probably the Frolicsome Bar (that’s what we call our facebook page) would be the best place to set up an event like this and let people know. But maybe there’s another way that I haven’t thought of yet.
I’ll play with…
Planting the wish.
Possibly doing an OOD on it.
Thing 3: Filling out more forms. Yes.
Here’s what I want:
Filling out forms is my secret agent code for doing old Turkish lady poses.
Because that’s literally what you’re doing.
Filling. Out. A. Form.
Except it sounds so incredibly boring to fill out forms that my monsters don’t make a fuss the way they would if I were doing something sweet and loving like shhhhhh-slow-gentle-yoga.
This week I would like to fill out lots and lots of forms.
Maybe just one at a time. Maybe at different points during the day.
Ways this could work:
Paul’s non-sucky dvd, of course.
Using the Playground.
Before bed.
After Shiva Nata.
In between transitions and doors.
I’ll play with…
Inventing a superpower to go along with this.
Thing 4: Erm…
Here’s what I want:
Extreme Recovery Mode. Aka Erm!
Which, coincidentally, is also the sound I make right before I remember to yell “Silent Retreat!”
(And then I run away.)
Ways this could work:
Baths.
Soaking in hot pools.
Massage.
Not everything requires a response.
Hiding.
I’ll play with…
Going dark.
Ten breaths.
Permission and amnesty.
Thing 5: The Floating Playground! The last day for Early Brunch.
Here’s what I want:
This weekend is the last chance for extreme Early Brunch prices on the Floating Playground.
I want everyone who wants to be a part of the Floop (yes, that’s its nickname, apparently) to joyfully find their way there.
Ways this could work:
I’m telling you right now.
I’ll play with…
Putting the link here: http://TheFluentSelf.com/floating
Creating a supportive, creative environment of welcoming and belonging for everyone who wants to play. Yay!
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted an old laptop to play DVDs on at the Playground, and a bunch of you were crazy helpful! Still sorting out the details, but yay people who can help! That was amazing.
Then I wanted to focus on making eating beautiful. That was challenging, but it definitely showed up. I was more conscious about which plates to choose and how to arrange things. It’s on my mind. Progress.
The Playground (the live one, which is about to expand to a much larger space) needs ongoing art supplies, and I said I’d think about that. I liked Anna’s suggestion of an arts & crafts potluck picnic. We’ll have to see what that would look like. I might write a future ask on specifics.
I wanted smoothness with the lease, and the building’s owners agreed to all of the changes we wanted to make in the last round of lease negotiations, HOORAY!
And I asked for a joyful Rally (Rally!), and it was extremely, extremely full of joy. Yet again, the VPAs sneakily make everything better under the surface while I’m not paying attention.
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
Friday Chicken #182: I believe in sandwich gnomes.
In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Okay, this is getting to be a little ridiculous. Time, stop with the flying. I cannot believe it is Friday.
But apparently it is. Again!
The hard stuff
The one night where there was no back to sleep.
Morning began for me at one thirty. That is to say, not very long after midnight.
And it stayed morning.
And at 5:52 that song came on and it was really too much.
Overdoing.
Working way too hard, preparing way too hard, wanting way too hard.
So tired that I couldn’t remember people’s names.
This never happens, because it’s one of my superpowers.
It was disorienting and alarming and generally not fun.
Zombie fog.
I don’t really have anything else to say about that.
If it hadn’t been for the sandwich gnomes, I might have fallen apart completely.
Waiting.
It is not the thing I am best at.
Sadness.
Also not the thing I am best at.
That one horrible thing that was horrible.
I’ll silent retreat on that.
Rally goes by way too unfairly ridiculously fast, you guys!
It was Rally this week. Rally!
And I LOVE Rally and it always ends too soon.
The good stuff
Making things congruent.
Like deleting thirty numbers from phone. And renaming other ones. Sneakiness!
Like depiling a hundred piles of iguanas and doom.
Like revising my system of Anthologies.
Ohmygod Season Opener ohmygodohmygod GNR!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have been going out of my mind waiting for roller derby season to start up again.
It’s a lot of fun running trainings for the team I fanatically sponsor/support/live-for, but you know what’s really fun?
Watching them TEAR IT APART in an actual bout. Guns N Rollers destroyed the Heathers at the season opener, and I was proud and happy.
And here’s Amanda’s awesome recap, if you want it broken down.
It’s been a looooong time coming. I really needed that.
Our new drafts (Frank N Hurter and Scouts OnHer) looked amazing, I could not be more ecstatic about having Braidy Punch on the team this year, and everyone managed to do a lot of damage and have a good time. It was spectacular.
I have been happy about this all week, and I will CONTINUE to be happy about this for years.
And Juno made us scarves!
Juno!
Remind me to post a picture of Selma in her tiny little GNR scarf. It is adorable.
Lots of wonderful old Turkish lady yoga.
Happy happy happy rolling around on the floor.
Yay for being (theoretically/symbolically) old and Turkish.
The day of done.
One of the reasons I’m so wiped out is because two days this week were the DAYS OF GETTING MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF STUCK THINGS UNSTUCK AND DONE.
That was brilliant.
The Mirror Pool page.
I have been working on the Mirror Pool since September.
It is, among other things, the self-guided entrance exam-that-is-not-at-all-an-exam-but-actually-a-door for my new Floating Playground program.
I needed this page to be an experience. I needed it to be able to teach and to love and to reflect and transform, to set culture and release expectations at the same time. I needed it to do all sorts of things. And I needed it to do MAGIC.
It was a ton of work, and just reading the mirror pool page is basically the equivalent of a graduate program in destuckifying. In fact, if you were to use it as a training manual, which you totally could, it would be worth your entire tuition just for that.
Anyway, getting it ready for the public (and getting me ready to show it to the public) was a big, important process. And this week it happened.
7500 words. We ask people to give it an hour of undivided attention and process, with conscious entry and exit. It’s INTENSE.
But it does the thing it was meant to do. And that, in and of itself, is extraordinary.
The beautiful things people have said about the Mirror Pool page.
Thank you to everyone who emailed and DMed to say how powerful/beautiful/transcendent the experience of visiting the Mirror Pool was.
I cannot even tell you how much I appreciate that.
The Floating Playground is already close to full!
Despite the fact that I have hardly done anything at all to tell people about the fact that it exists.
This is a very good sign.
Rally (Rally!)
This week was Rally (Rally!), and Rally was sublime.
Rally #16 was full of shining, beautiful wonderful surprises, and I madly love every single person who was there.
It was absolutely magical, and I don’t know what to say other than that. Mmmm, Rally glow.
The Enthusiastic.
We convened a fabulous Enthusiastic at Rally, and it was the most fun and inspiring experience.
A thing I thought was going to be really hard turned out to be really great!
And now I don’t need to spend today getting the Playground ready for the sparkling cleaning Heinzelmaennchen.
(Related: I am a supergenius! Though, yes, it took being very-much-not-a-supergenius fifteen times in a row in order to get to that point.)
The fun part of the Chickening happens here.
Tabstravaganza! Or: what’s Havi been up to with all those open Firefox tabs?
- Anna wrote beautifully about a music-related Shiva Nata epiphany: you should definitely read this.
- You guys! Steph is amazing! She made these gorgeous scarves that will be for sale in the Playground Toy Shop. Excitment! I will buy the first one and wear mine the second it arrives.
Also she has the best tagline ever: I knit so I don’t kill people. - Loved the drawing in this sweet post from a blog reader: Logistics Me is 400 pounds and is sitting on top of Adventure Me.
- Here are some notes from the monster manual. And did you see this drawing?! I love it when people post pictures of their colored-in monsters!
- She said very seriously, Max I’m so sorry I can’t talk right now – I have to pay total attention to this cake.
From the archives.
Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:
- My stuck isn’t talking and also there is a trapeze.
- What is true? What else is true?
- Internal Courtroom Drama.
Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.
This week’s band is brought to you via Rally #16!
Emergency Little Book of Poems
They play quiet, sweet little pieces, lots of harmonies.
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
- Early brunch prices on the Floating Playground (aka the Floop!) are good for TWO MORE DAYS. January 29 is the last day for that. That’s Sunday.
- If you want to come to a Rally (Rally!) this year, do it! Most of the 2012 Rallies are already full. There are openings in March, May, July and September.
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.
Things I didn’t know that I knew about nests.
Last week I started making a list of things I know about nests.
Or really, as it soon became clear, a list of things I didn’t know that I knew about nests.
On the surface, I don’t have a lot of thoughts about nests. In fact, prior to last week, I would have described myself as INDIFFERENT when it comes to nests.
But I was using the idea of a nest as a proxy for a project I was working on. And a nest seemed like a good example of something that I don’t care about that might be important.
From my notes:
Nests are the embodiment of SHELTER.
Much like a sukkah or a blanket fort (or a cocoon), nests can be temporarily constructed for a purpose and then be released/shed/deconstructed/taken-apart.
Nests exist to be a container for a very specific purpose or place in time:
- For a season.
- For a resting period.
- For an incubation.
- For however long it takes to grow something.
Things can be nested inside of other things.
Also nestled, which for me has connotations of things like [+cozy] [+aligned] [+snug] and [+comfort].
Nesting dolls are containers for each other.
But they’re also containers (nests!) for mystery and surprise and delight.
There is something intricate about a nest.
For me, if I were breaking down the word into my personal associations (a la metaphor mouse), NEST would include:
[+intentional] [+craftsmanship*] [+gathered] [+organic] [+sheltering] [+slow process] [+transition] [+comfort] [+softeness] [+growing stronger] [+sinking into] [+release] [+shavasana] [+knowledge] [+experience]
* Though if a bird crafts it, isn’t that craftsbirdship? It kind of should be, if only because that is a crazy-awesome-looking word.
Nests are containers, but it’s more than that.
Nests are doors. Nests are homes.
- The Playground is a nest for Rally (Rally!).
- Rally is a nest for changing how you make progress on mysterious and not-mysterious projects.
- The ship is a nest for the voyage.
- The Refueling Station is a nest for releasing.
- The (opening-next-month!) Floating Playground is a nest for process and for feeling like you belong in your life.
- Shiva Nata is a nest for transformation and rewriting patterns (and for being the eye of the storm).
- Hoppy House is a nest for learning how to feel at home.
- My body is a nest for learning how to be at home.
- My heart is a nest for hiding and for being loved.
- My cells are nests for blueprints.
And so on.
Tinier and tinier.
Like nesting dolls. Or nesting nests.
How do you know that you know how to build a nest?
The knowledge for how to build a nest (or to invoke a nest) is very… internal.
This stuff isn’t covered in manuals. It’s a thing you need to remember that you know.
There are maps and plans hidden inside the bones of my wings, but first I have to remember that these things exist.
What is powerful about a nest?
Hidden strength.
What is useful about a nest?
Being separate and hidden.
(That could mean above or deep).
When is a nest not a nest?
When you are done with it, and then it can be taken apart or turned into something else.
What happens to me when I am nesting?
I am the complete cycle: mother and infant (in the archetypal sense, not in the about-to-go-to-Bolivia sense).
Caring and being cared for at the same time.
An internally directed cycle.
Also, any nest is really a nest-in-progress. Nests aren’t done. You can always tweak, alter and change. Lovingly maintaining a nest is part of the experience.
What else is a nest?
Well, safe rooms are a form of nests.
My relationship with X was a training ground for me to learn very specific things.
It wasn’t the soft comforting sort of nest, but it was the kind of nest that Mr. Miyagi might build to teach you how to wax on and wax off.
A bootcamp nest? Ewwwwwwww. Oyvavoy. Not that. More like how I’m Bruce Wayne, and the bat cave is a nest. Ahhhhhhhh. Got it.
Right now all the training that I’m doing to get mission-ready is a nest.
AND all the resting that I’m doing to get mission-ready is also a nest.
How do I know that I’m done with a nest?
Okay, so in my personal world of nests, there is no being unceremoniously dropped out.
That is a distortion. That is my pain experience. It’s from then.
In my world of nests, there’s a moment in which I know I am done.
And then the next adventure — which is itself a new and bigger nest — just appears. And the previous nest dissolves.
In I allow my nests to expand and contract as necessary.
And even when I’m flying, the experience of flying is a nest.
My relationship with the experience of flying is also a nest.
Every tree is a nest. Each new opening is a nest.
What is next?
Trusting what I know.
Trusting the nest.
Trusting the me who built it.
Play with me! The commenting blanket fort.
This is my process. It’s personal and a little vulnerable. What I would like: loving sighs. No advice, no analysis. Making space for my understanding of nests to be different than yours if that’s the case.
If you’d like, you can find out what you know about nests and use that as a proxy for something else you’re working on.
Or you can find out what you know about something else (like curtain rods or clouds) and that will probably tell you useful things as well.
Or you can sit here with me and drink tea. Or not tea. Whatever you like.
Usual comment zen applies. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We play. We make room for each other.
Love, as always, to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.