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.

The thing you think is less important is actually more important than the thing you think is the most important.

by | Jan 19, 2012 |

Your internal culture is more important than your thing.

By “thing”, I mean: Whatever it is that you do, or want to do, or think you should be able to tell people that you do.

Your internal culture is more important than your thing because your thing will change.

But the culture will hold itself.

Culture. Holds. Itself.

And the more time you spend learning about the qualities, the superpowers, the Book of You and all the other elements of your internal and external worlds, the stronger, more radiant and more sustainable that culture will be.

Postscripts.

  1. You don’t need to have a thing.
  2. See also: ten myths about biggification.
  3. In fact, it is often *better* to not have a thing. I recommend it! Unless, of course, you’re tortured by having to get something very specific out into the world. In which case, maybe that’s your thing. Awesome.
  4. I don’t have a thing. I do have an approach. And a strong culture that I’ve been developing over the past six-seven years. And spaces, both physical and online. But I don’t define what I do.
  5. Speaking of things you don’t need to do or have… I also think you can skip having to take a leap or (tfu tfu tfu) face your fear, both of which are highly overrated.
  6. Yay, Scanners! Everyone should read Barbara Sher’s Refuse to Choose.
  7. This internet world is full of expert biggifiers who are deeply invested in the idea that you need to have a thing and to decide already. And to name it and define it. That tells you something about their culture. About their world, not about yours.
  8. Everything that comes up for you around this theme is a pattern. And all patterns contain information about how to bring in a new pattern.

The commenting blanket fort.

Usual comment zen applies. We make this a safe space.

We do that by agreeing that each person here takes loving ownership for his/her experience. We meet our questions and pain with love. We make room for each other. And we don’t tell each other what to do or how to feel. We play. We process. Sometimes we also call silent retreat, and that’s always okay too.

Kisses.

There’s always a shorter version.

by | Jan 18, 2012 |

I do a lot of entry and exit. Setting things up.

Also preparing for the voyage. Or preparing in general. And then doing a little Revue (with high kicks!) when it’s over, because I don’t like to review things but I like taking stock.

Sometimes I’m convinced there’s no time to enter and exit experiences.

But that’s pretty much always the time gremlins talking.

So we do the short version. And sometimes even the shortest version.

The short version for entry looks like this:

What do I want to feel? And what do I need?

And I usually direct the those questions towards slightly wiser me.

Notes about this practice!

You’ll know if you’ve encountered a monster who’s answering the questions for you.

You’ll know because the answers won’t be nice. Like this:

“What do you need? You need to stop being so lazy. Or maybe you could also stop being such a whiny little pain in the ass. That would be good too. What are you wasting your time for? Just do it!”

And you’ll know if you’ve encountered a sad, scared version of you and not slightly wiser you if the answer you get is really stressful. Like this:

“What do I need? I need EVERYTHING TO [insert stream of creative cursing in Arabic] WORK FOR A CHANGE, aaaaaaargh!”

So. The fuzzball monsters are allowed to have their opinions. And the sad, scared selves get to feel safe. Always. Safety first!

But you’re not asking them. You’re asking the part of you who knows.

This can take practice. Give it time. There’s time.

Okay. Back to the practice. Examples! From yesterday.

Examples of short-version entry…

Dance class.

What do I want to feel? Tough, competent, graceful, grounded, present.

And what do I need? Conscious breathing. And the superpower of knowing when I need to take breaks, and trusting that information.

Breakfast.

What do I want to feel? Joy and nourishment, intentional caring for myself..

And what do I need? Want what you want. It’s important.

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What do I want to feel? Capable. Strong. Centered..

And what do I need? Use your force field. Plan without planning. Do the alignment exercise. It’s okay to take extra time to do an OOD because that will give you useful information for later. Also: this is a fractal flower!

Mini marathon-training.

What do I want to feel? Release.

And what do I need? Tissues. A pillow. Put the sign on the door so no one disturbs you.

Going to the bathroom.

What do I want to feel? The symbolic power of process: I am letting go of whatever my body is done with.

And what do I need? To remember that running off to pee is not a break. It’s not taking me away from my work of self-inquiry and it’s not separate from my life. It’s another way that I take care of myself.

The short version for EXIT.

Exit looks like this:

What worked? What might I try next time?

Examples of short-version exit…

Dance class.

What worked? Smiling! Music! Knowing that my body is my home and this is where I live.

What might I try next time? Coming a few minutes earlier to get a better spot.

Breakfast.

What worked? Doing entry!.

What might I try next time? Leave the pretty glass for the Strengthening Elixir out on the counter so we don’t forget. Maybe that glass needs a home?

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What worked? Ohmygod doing the OOD helped so much!.

What might I try next time? I think I’d do it exactly like that! But maybe with a costume?

Mini marathon-training.

What worked? Putting on a nine minute song and knowing how long it would be..

What might I try next time? Turning off the sound on the phone.

Going to the bathroom.

What worked? That reminder that this is part of what I do, not separate from it.

What might I try next time? Naming the superpowers.

The even SHORTER version.

Entry: One quality. Example: Courage! And then: May it be received with love.

(I do this every time I press pooblish on a blog post. Or when I have a snack. Or when I go for a walk.)

Exit: One quality. Example: Support! And then: Thank you, experience.

And the SHORTEST version.

The shortest version involves knowing that everything is a door.

Including the experience you are about to enter, as well as the entry and the exit.

Entry: Hello, Door.

Exit: Goodbye, Door.

It’s all shorthand. The Hello includes all of the aspects of hello, without stating them. The Goodbye contains all the magic of endings.

Playing. And the commenting blanket fort.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.

The way this works is that we all agree to take loving ownership for our experience. And we create a safe environment by not giving unsolicited advice or telling each other how to feel.

Ways to play. So many! Because play is infinite possibility.

You could make up your own ways to enter and exit. No need to use mine. Or you can play with how you might find tiny ways to enter and exit. Or things in your day that could use mini entries and exits.

Or we could make sweet loving wishes for the parts of us who think this is way too much work.

And give our internal scientists the task of finding out how doing entry and exit changes our experience.

What I’m calling on: Receptivity, intelligence, curiosity and flow.

May it be received with love.

Very Personal Ads #131: whoah-struck!

by | Jan 15, 2012 |

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!

Thing 1: a word for the practice of making things congruent

Here’s what I want:

To invent or discover a word or metaphor that describes the thing I’m working on the most right now:

Bringing things in my life into a greater state of CONGRUENCE.

Ideally this would be a verb, but it could also be a descriptive phrase or even an image or a person. In the way that Bruce Wayne is my stand-in both for prosperity and for the state of intense dedication to the physical (agility, gracefulness, power, stability, strength, determination and endurance).

Ways this could work:

I could ask for help from metaphor mouse, speaking of reluctant superheroes.

I can map it out.

Do some Shiva Nata on it to see what the patterns are.

Ask Bruce Wayne what he’d call it.

I’ll play with…

I think I’d like to interview Barrington. And also the Director (the me-who-is-coming).

It would be interesting to see what they know about this, and maybe that would give me a direction.

Thing 2: the week of Congruencing!

Here’s what I want:

Okay, so I don’t have my word or metaphor yet, but whatever it’s going to be called, that’s what I want to be doing all week.

Ways this could work:

Maybe a list of things that need to come into congruence.

I can also use my list of Things I am Done With.

For example:

  • Not having a place to put a certain type of thing.
  • The bag of Back and Forth.
  • Yoga coming after work.
  • Answering questions with anything other than a heart-sigh.

And then I can play, Rally-style.

I’ll play with…

Patience. Permission. Exploring without attachment to what I think I need to find.

I think it’s time for some stone skippings.

Some old Turkish lady yoga.

And lots of entry and exit. This is another form of preparing for the voyage, isn’t it.

That feels better.

Thing 3: Speaking of things that I am done with….

Here’s what I want:

Doors that are closed need to stay closed. Not to be approached and not be knocked on. This station is closed!

This is showing up in several ways right now, most of them symbolic. Also there are ways in which I am still knocking on some doors that are not doors for me any more, and I’m looking at that too.

Anyway, there’s this thing with random strangers knocking on the door to the Playground while I’m in yoga or meditation.

Because they apparently want to know how to get to the bathrooms. Or because they’re supposedly confusing my center with another business, despite the GIANT sign that announces: The Destuckification Playground!

And there’s this other thing where people try to log into one of my online programs. They can’t, of course, because there’s no way for them to get in without our system having given them a password. But when we close out each year, we always find about eighty names of people who have tried to log-in. Even though the entry page states that this is a closed, private community.

The fact that both of these things are scratching at the door of my mind right now (see? doors, it’s all doors here) shows me that this is my stuff.

So I’m going to investigate that. And I want better systems, better boundaries, better ways of making it clear that some doors are not for being knocked on.

Ways this could work:

Talking to slightly future me and figuring out what she knows about this.

Flailing on it with Shiva Nata.

Inventing ridiculous signs and then using that as a starting point for play.

I’ll play with…

Noticing all the places of entry and exit.

Stopping to pause (paws!).

Closing places I have left open.

Thing 4: the new assumption.

Here’s what I want:

To intentionally, playfully and steadily operate under the assumption that everything is good!

And to find out how things are good. In what way are they good?

Ways this could work:

I can ask:

“How does this thing that doesn’t appear to be good actually contain elements of good? And how can I use this to my advantage?”

If I’m in resistance because a certain situation is clearly full of not-good, I can try to find the useful.

If I can’t find the useful, I can still find out what I’m learning through encountering this now.

I’ll play with…

What if I’m wrong about everything I’m currently assuming?

What if this new assumption holds some unexpected treasure?

What if I don’t have to believe in the new assumption in order to receive benefits from experimenting with it?

What if everything that is against me is an illusion? Because Orna said it is, and Orna has never been wrong about anything.

Thing 5: ease-filled happy signing of the lease.

Here’s what I want:

Okay, this one might have to become an OOD, because I suspect that this is not all that I want.

I want to sign the lease on the new Playground space, but what I really want is to feel supported and excited in every part of this adventure.

And there are certain things that are potential dealbreakers, and I need those things to go smoothly. Or to resolve themselves in ways that I haven’t thought of yet.

But mainly I want to feel joyful and elated, because this is a giant gorgeous symbol of giant and gorgeous progress on my giant and gorgeous vision. I am whoah-struck! So let’s have more of that please.

Ways this could work:

I think breaking out an OOD, and working through the whole process and destuckifying is important.

Especially the aspect of making peace with being a grown-up.

And taking apart some of my old patterns of being apologetic and wanting to accommodate out of fear, habit or guilt….when actually what is necessary in this situation is radiating strength and establishing clear, beautiful, loving boundaries.

I’ll play with…

Man, this is a big ask with a lot of disparate elements.

I think I want to focus on figuring out what I want and need.

This relates to several asks from previous weeks that have to do with trusting my instincts. Hand-on-heart sigh for me-from-then.

It all comes back to wanting the wanting.

Thing 6: sleep, again.

Here’s what I want:

So I’ve graduated from waking up in the middle of the night and feeling miserable to waking up in the middle of the night and feeling peaceful. And then falling back asleep.

But I’m ready to go through the next door:

Deep peaceful uninterrupted slumber.

Ways this could work:

Congruence. Putting more of these small changes into effect.

Morning rituals. Evening rituals.

Trust.

Talking to all the different parts of me.

I’ll play with…

Listening. Curiosity. Sweetness.

Thing 7: enthusiasm!

Here’s what I want:

I am about to send out the announcement about the Floating Playground.

And to celebrate the way I would with a real Enthusiastic: where we all exclaim over puppies! And how cute the puppies are!

Ways this could work:

Tuning into my own enthusiasm.

Filling up on the superpowers and the qualities.

Showing you guys the link to the puppies page, which is also a door to what’s next.

I’ll play with…

Hand-on-heart sigh for my desire for Enthusiasm.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

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

Those were some big asks. I wanted comfort and healing for a broken heart. And I didn’t think that would work, but I got it.

I wanted sleeps, and through the magic of hypnosis and herbs I am sleeping. More, at least.

Then I wanted to not care so much (or at all) about that thing. And while I still care about it, not weighing on me as much as before. I kind of think it’s all going to be okay.

Then better structures for RAWR Mondays! Feeling good about that.

And good wishes for Eclipse. I saw her but forgot to ask. So I’ll keep wishing!

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 #180: thrice substicushioned!

by | Jan 13, 2012 |

Friday chickenIn 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.

I am inordinately pleased about week ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY in a row.

That’s because past-me (hi, sweetie!) from a hundred chickens or so decided to create a blueprint for chickening.

And, as a joke, she named the blueprint template thing Friday Chicken #180. Because that seemed like a million years away.

So each week I pull out the blueprint and save it as the chicken of the week and fill in my hard and my good. And I change the number to the correct one and add a title (which is the hardest part of chickening).

But guess what? We’re here. Chicken #180. And I didn’t have to update the number. Though maybe now I’ll change the blueprint to 280.

The hard stuff

OHMYGOD EVERYTHING.

This week was full of some incredibly challenging moments for me.

There were fits and tantrums. Many of them.

And lots of tears.

And some shaking of fists.

I got mad. And I don’t get mad very often but yes. This was worth getting mad over.

Monday night.

Monday night was the TWENTY FOURTH night in a row of not-sleep.

I mean, there is sleep. But with waking up every hour and with nightmares and with not falling back asleep.

And I was doing all the things that work but they weren’t working, and this was a new situation, and it was torture and I was done.

Nonfunctioning because of the tiredness emergency.

I got to really experience what it’s like when you cannot do.

And when you cannot not do.

Because all of it is one awful horrible fog of doom.

Nothing gets done.

It can’t.

Not when you’re so disconnected.

Nothing is working.

Normally when everything hurts, I run away to my uncle in the woods and rest up.

But this time that didn’t work. It always works!

And a bunch of other things that always work didn’t work. That’s because everything is changing. And transitions are hard. And I’m still discovering what the new things are.

And dancing, which also always helps, didn’t help because it turns out that when I’m crazy-malfunctioning-tired, my body won’t dance either.

I was sadface mouse about all of this and so much more.

Not being able to get things done because of the stupid card thing.

So two weeks ago (as you may remember from Chickens past), our business credit card was compromised.

And this was the week it was supposed to arrive.

Bills, expenses, orders, merchant payments, it all needed to happen this week and we didn’t have the card.

Rawr! Rawr! Rawr!

So many crappy things this week! So many! Rawr!

The endless recushioning and substicushioning.

Forcibly being substicushioned is my new phrase for this situation that I cannot stand which kept repeating itself this week.

The this-is-the-example situation: I bought a giant expensive red cushion but then it turned out they’d given me the brown one.

Which was fine because the brown looked great in my office, but I still felt frustrated: we’d agreed on red, they wrote down red, we said red at the storeroom, I watched the woman write it down on the form. So how come brown.

We agreed that the our lease on the new Playground space would begin March 1st and then the start date was pushed back by two months with no recognition, apologies or consideration for how this impacts our plans. The new date is also fine. Starting in May gives me more time to plan.

But I also feel frustrated and anxious because there’s no acknowledgement of the fact that this is something other than what was emphatically agreed upon at our last meeting.

We agreed I was paying for red! We clearly said March 1st! I don’t need a a red cushion. I don’t need the date moved back to March. But I feel upset. I want to be ASKED for input: “Hey, is it okay if we give you brown because we’re out of red? Hey, we want to move the lease two months so how would you feel about that?”

So I’m calling that being substicushioned. Unauthorized recushioning! And it happened like, ten different times this week in various formats. And I am really in my stuff about this, and feeling vulnerable. So that’s what I’ll be processing over the weekend and next week.

* Thank you, Shannon, for the word.

It’s time for a new sherriff in town.

I didn’t want that job but someone’s going to have to take it. And it will be me if no one else does. We’ll see what happens this week.

The short version is that the situation with the bully in our building has come to a head.

I invest endless time, love and money in the physical home of my company, and I am done.

Blowing! Off! Steam!

Also, this entire situation would be way easier to deal with were I not completely exhausted. So there’s that too.

Uncertainty.

When is the new Playground space going to be available? When will I be able to tell you guys about the new things? Is it even possible for people to take ownership for their stuff and their experience? It works at the physical Playground but can it work online?

These are the questions that I have been working through over this long, hard, exhausting, fascinating week.

The good stuff

Toozday.

On Tozday everything crashed and then it couldn’t crash anymore.

I broke down and got homeopathic stuff even though I have Ludicrous Fear Popcorn about this and try to avoid it.

The wonderful Shannon (graduate of Crossing the Line — she can tell you how amazing it was!) came by the Playground and did a magical hypnosis session for me.

Toozday night I finally slept. And then Wednesday night I really slept. The whole! Night! Through!

Sleeps! Sleeps!

SLEEP IS THE BEST.

Sleep, you guys. I highly recommend it. Everything is better when it is there.

Everything is okay.

Yes, it is.

It just is.

I learned that this week and I knew it in my bones, and this was wonderful.

Everything is okay!

And: everything that is against me is an illusion.

I finally wrote the thing I had been putting off writing.

I wanted to tell my Kitchen Table about what I’ve learned about leadership over the past three years of running the program.

But then I couldn’t.

And finally I could. It worked. Relief and joy!

We got the lease. Joyful jumping for the new space!

We got the lease. There is going to be a new beautiful Playground in addition to the current one.

Even though the date was pushed back by two months without anyone asking how we felt about that, we got the lease.

We still haven’t signed, and are working through a couple small details, but this feels so much closer to the new gigantic space and the new things we’ll be doing there.

This is the best!

Friends.

Wonderful friends.

Especially Briana and Shannon and the gentleman.

Things that keep me sane.

Dance class. Once I’d slept. YAY DANCE.

Yoga. Breathing. Shiva Nata.

Hiding. Nesting. Reflecting.

Stretching. Crying.

Conversations and negotiations with walls and monsters.

RAWR-ing. Stone skipping.

All of it.

My wish room.

The useful part about discovering all the things I am DONE with this week was that I realized it is time to take care of my wish room.

That’s my home office that I pretty much always avoid.

So I bought a throne for it. Not really a throne. It has a brown cushion instead of a red cushion, but it is still a kick-ass throne.

And the gentleman took down the shelves and is going to repaint!

Again, everything is okay.

Just when I start to worry that maybe it isn’t, I am reminded by all the ways that it is.

It is only lack of sleep that makes it seem like it isn’t .

But look, all the things I need are right here. Just where they always were.

I can trip over them or I can make homes for them. So I’m making homes.

Roller derby workshop!

Taught another Shiva Nata workshop for the team I sponsor last night.

It was awesome. We were gearing up for the season opener.

Unrelenting domination! (That was position 1:6 for you shivanauts out there).

Anyway, fun! We wore costumes. We flailed it up. Epiphanies, they are happening.

I have a polar bear and I don’t know why!

The cutest polar bear ever. Schmoo! Adorable.

Apparently whilst I was in the throes of Extreme Sleep Deprivation (which I still am, retroactively, but it was way worse then), I announced to the world one morning — very emphatically — that I needed a polar bear.

The gentleman got me one. It is the softest and the snuggliest and has the most intense expression. Fierce, but also curious.

I am not sure why I thought I needed a polar bear. To be honest, I don’t even really remember declaring to anyone who would listen that having one was necessary and vital to my life.

But this makes me happy. Polar bear. MINE. His name is Darlington Sloth. He likes to be scratched under his right ear. And I also call him Paws for short. Paws!

I am learning the things I need to learn.

Part of what made this past week so challenging was not knowing what the useful part was.

But now I know. Got it. Onto the next piece.

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

Tabstravaganza! Or: what’s Havi been up to with all those open Firefox tabs?

I didn’t read much this week but I want to share with you Pauline’s beautiful piece about the greatest pain.

What a courageous and accurate description:

Oh my goodness the pain.
Sometimes very, very quiet but burning and then explosive and needing kettle drums, full orchestra and choir, requiem to acknowledge the sheer bursting massive scale of it.
I thought walking in the stormy winds this week would be powerful enough to make some impression on it, but there’s been nothing strong enough to match it. Storms rage outside me and it rages within me.
And my goodness that is good stuff.
To let the pain meet its match in force, in music, and see that it’s allowed to be as strong as it is.
See that I’m not frightened of it, that it won’t kill me, that it’s going to be allowed full expression and need not be less than it is for fear of my not being able to bear it.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

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 possibly-probably related to Ludicrous Fear Popcorn…

They’re called:

Terrified of Pi

And that pretty much sums it up.

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

  1. You’ll need the Art of Embarking if you want to join the Floating Playground. Or any of the things we’ll be doing in 2012.
  2. I’ll be sending out the announcement about the Floating Playground really soon, to everyone on the Havi’s Announcing a Thing list (you can sign up on the events page).

I think that’s everything. If not, I’ll add stuff to the Very Personal Ads over the weekend.

That’s it for me …

And of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments if you feel like it.

Yes? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

We let people have their own experience, which means that we’re supportive and kind, and we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

When things aren’t working.

by | Jan 12, 2012 |

The hardest part when things aren’t working is waiting for the new things to come in.

The ones that do work.

That is to say:

The new patterns, the new customs and rituals, the new techniques, the new approach.

(If you’ve done pattern-dancing with me, you’re intimately familiar with this process. Engaging with dance means you’re constantly deconstructing patterns and replacing them with the new ones. It’s really hard!)

But often there’s a gap. And inside of this gap you’re hyper aware of all the things that are not working, and still not clear on what form the new pattern is going to take.

That’s where CONGRUENCE comes in.

Part of what’s happening in this type of period of frustration (and I go through this fairly often because I do a lot of internal processing) is this:

It’s not just that you’re aware of the things that aren’t working. You’re also seeing evidence all around you that points to the extreme severity of This Is Not Working.

And you’re extra-sensitive to everything that doesn’t feel congruent. Everything that is not in line with the new way can feel jarring or pokey.

Extreme cognitive dissonance! It’s just one guy!

You’re noticing all the places in your life that are not harmonious with the way you actually want to feel.

One of the things that I have found helpful — for me! — in these times of transition-ey process-ey aaaaah-I-hate-everything-in-my-life is this:

Making tiny little symbolic things more congruent. And getting rid of tiny little symbolic incongruencies.

Tiny things.

It could be just one thing.

Or it could be just ten things.

Or however many you like.

The way I do it is by wandering around Hoppy House or the Playground or my office aka the pirate queen quarters, looking for what doesn’t fit.

And I make a REALLY BIG DEAL out of the symbolic value of releasing incongruence.
Translation: moving things around! Throwing things out!

What this looked like yesterday.

Me:

“Listen up, WORLD! I am DONE with things! I am done with things that are incongruent! Done with things that are unsovereign! Done with things that are not in present time!

“Or any combination of the above!

“And I am READY for things that are congruent, harmonious, sovereign and fabulous.”

And then I remembered again:

This is the pain and dissonance of my current growth period — right now I’m hyper aware of all the things that are not harmonious with how I need them to be.

So of course I feel like crap.

As for my panicked “oh no the old things aren’t working, where are the new ones?”, we know how this works. The new tools will come as I get rid of those things which are not congruent.

This happens after every Rally (Rally!). It happened after Crossing the Line (password: haulaway), and we totally prepared for it there because we knew it was coming. This is a normal thing that can happens when you cycle through a big internal change.

And that’s good because things need to move and change. That’s part of being alive. It’s when they don’t change (or I try to not allow them to change) … then they stop working and become stagnant.

There’s even a whole page about this in the Book of Havi.

So find out what you’re done with and be done with it.

What am I done with? Let’s find out…

I am done with this green visor on the giant duck that lives on top of the red wall at the Playground! I don’t know why. A few months ago I thought it was delight-filled and sweet. But now it’s wrong. Gone!

I am done with this list of iguanas!

I am done with not taking care of myself!

I am done with holding onto presents that I don’t want!

I am done with the Lost & Found box!

I am done with this door not closing properly!

I am done with all of these things.

And I am ready to discover what the harmonious and congruent version of these things might look like / sound like / feel like.

So there were tiny changes.

The visor got put on a stuffed animal (who loved it!).

I decided that none of the iguanas actually needed me, they were just reminders of things I don’t like, so I tossed the list.

A bunch of presents at Hoppy House got recycled and regifted.

The First Mate was charged with getting the door fixed.

I still don’t know what to do with the Lost & Found box but it is being moved to a new place so I don’t have to look at it while I’m working. Maybe I’ll write a Very Personal Ad for this one.

I still don’t know what the new way is yet.

But there are fewer barriers to it coming in.

So I don’t have to know. I just have to keep making room for it.

That’s what I did yesterday.

Today I feel more like myself than I have in a while.

I feel less frustrated about the gap between knowing what I don’t want and remembering what I need.

This is what I’m focusing on right now:

Trusting that the new patterns are coming in.

Welcoming them by removing tiny, symbolic things that remind me of what isn’t working, and by making space.

Play with me! And the commenting blanket fort.

You are welcome to search for tiny, symbolic mini-changes in your space or in your day.

You can leave a loving hand-on-heart sigh for the shared experience of those gap times.

You can use the tools and explore and discover. You can color some monsters. It helps. It’s crazy, but it helps.

You can throw things you are done with in a giant magical recycling elevator-shaft that I am establishing here. Into the completion pot!

Or drop off some gwishes.

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.

Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers, and everyone who reads.

The Fluent Self