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.

Very Personal Ads #127: in this together

by | Dec 11, 2011 |

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!

Sunday!

This morning I woke up with five sweet little wishes nestled in the palm of my hand. Like little colored puffballs.

That’s never happened before. It was a pretty cool feeling.

Let’s do it.

Thing 1: Ease and clarity for the rendezvous on Monday .

Here’s what I want:

On Monday I’m meeting with someone to discuss a possibility that is a really big deal for me and for the business.

I am so excited that I can hardly sit still. And also noticing some anxious what-ifs from some sad, scared parts of me who think that now is going to be like then.

I want to be filled with sweetness and caring when I interact with these parts of me-from-then.

And to go into this meeting feeling strong, confident, clear and ready. Grounded and present.

To enter as I wish to be in it.

To learn or to remember that this entire experience can go smoothly. What if it can be pleasurable and harmonious? What if all options are good? Yeah!

Ways this could work:

I can do five minutes of Shiva Nata on it and have realizations!

I can ask metaphor mouse to help me rewrite my words and experiences so that I remember that now is not then.

When does a meeting not have to be stressful and terrifying? When it’s a rendezvous!

I can prepare code words. And I can also do various entry rituals to prepare myself for the experience and to shape my relationship with it.

Oh! Of course. Find the version of me who knows how to be in this situation, and ask her to come to the front of the V.

My commitment.

To do my secret marathon training sessions (shhhh, this is a proxy and it’s actually relaxing).

To reflect. To investigate. To plant the wish.

And I will spend time hanging out with my new friend: the concept and essence of EQUALITY. Spending time experiencing this quality helps me remember that I am not a supplicant. I am not dependent on other people’s decisions, even when I am reminded of painful situations from a time when that was true or felt true.

We are all equals. We are all in this together.

Thing 2: What January name will the last Crown Pouncer hold?

Here’s what I want:

The January Rally (Rally!) is going to be so ridiculously great.

This Rally can hold fourteen people, aside from me. We have thirteen of these people. We had fourteen but then someone had to move her spot.

So.

We also have fourteen special-edition one-time-only navy blue Crown Pouncers. One for each person coming.

Thirteen of these Crown Pouncers are each secretly and gently holding a name in their navy blue mouths. And there is one lonely Crown Pouncer who does not know which name to hold.

What if the last person for the January Rally signs up this week?

Ways this could work:

I’m not sure.

It’s just going to.

There is someone out there who is going to know that this is the time.

I will also add that this particular Rally has three people coming who were at Crossing the Line, and two people who were at my Shiva Nata training. You can ask them all your questions!

My commitment.

To kiss the Crown Pouncer on the nose every day, and remind him that we can still love this person madly even if we don’t know who it is yet.

Thing 3: You need these holiday cards.

Here’s what I want:

Everyone in the world needs to read this blog post. And if you hang out at the Twitter bar, then follow @bradmcginty.

And then order his incredibly disturbing and super-awesome Christmas cards.

Five dollars. Because let’s face it, such an incredibly entertaining post deserves five dollars just for existing.

My dad said that instead of going to church on Sundays, my grandfather would often go “Irish fishing,” which entailed leaving before sun-up and returning late in the day with a bunch of stones. My father was never allowed to go with him, because he was half woman (on his mother’s side).

Anyway, you need these cards. Everyone needs these cards. I’m getting some too.

Let’s support this guy’s crazy-ass mission. I love it. So much.

Ways this could work:

I am telling you about it right now. Buy these cards.

Also I will alert the Frolicsome Bar.

My commitment.

Cards!

Thing 4: Thursday’s workshop.

Here’s what I want:

I’m running a workshop on Thursday for the hard rocking ladies of the roller derby team that I sponsor.

It’s on visualizations and how to make them work for you. And how to turn them into full-body Perceptings. And how to show up to a situation in your strongest force field, ready to break some furniture and take stuff apart.

It’s going to be awesome. Except that I want to be able to fit about seven hundred hours of material into two hours. Or, failing that, to plant all the right seeds.

Seeds. Got it.

Ways this could work:

Shiva Nata. Shiva Nata. Shiva Nata.

My commitment.

Doonsk doonsk!

Dance it up. Let it be fun.

Thing 5: Prep work.

Here’s what I want:

There are two big announcings that need to happen this week.

Possibly three, depending on what happens at Monday’s rendezvous.

This requires some deep internal and external preparations.

And some interactions with an old iguana.

Ways this could work:

Trust. Faith. Practice. Play.

My commitment.

Crown. Scepter. Bubbles. Force field.

To remember that now is not then. Now is now, and now is better.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

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

I wanted to know how all my seemingly-contradictory wishes could fit together, and that happened really fast Hooray!

Then I wanted to write a HAT and I did not write that HAT. Though I had a very good reason for not writing it, and I learned something about why I’m not writing it. So that was useful.

I also wanted to arrange a holiday for the pirate queen, and I renamed it! It is now the First Absconding. And it’s in the works. Not completely planned, but the elements are all there. Progress!

Next I wanted to take steps on the Grand Enthusiastic, and that is going to be worked out during the Absconding.

And I asked for ease-filled monster negotiations, and we had lots of these. DEEP EXHALE.

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 #175: let’s bring back the phrase Hot Diggity!

by | Dec 9, 2011 |

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.

Wow. I kind of don’t remember anything like this ever happening. Ever. Certainly not since I started chickening each Friday a hundred and seventy five weeks ago.

But I had a FANTASTIC week. To the point that all the good is just kind of blowing my mind right now. Usually I have to process the hard before getting to the point where I can remember good, but this week was all about the good.

Weird. Awesome-weird! I would not mind feeling this way more often!

The hard stuff

Some people are just not very nice.

I have (through learning stuff the hard way….) built my business and my systems over time in such a way that I hardly ever have to deal with people like this.

Or even know about them.

But there’s one of these people in the building where the Playground lives, and I am not willing to put up with mean people releasing the mean in all directions. I’m done.

So something about this is going to have to change. Fortunately I feel very capable right now. So even though I don’t know yet how this is going to work, it’s going to work.

I chose not to do a thing I’d really wanted to do.

It jus wasn’t the right time.

Sad me is mourning that. She’s having trouble turning the page.

I made her the best safe room ever, so now she is watching 80s movies and eating popcorn.

And writing a dramatic manifesto about how Everything Was Better Then, and sometimes she snickers to herself when she thinks of something funny.

Time! It keeps moving faster than I expect.

There is still a lot to get done (whatever that means) by the end of the month.

So I’m going to have to make some interesting decisions. Or plant some things for later.

We’ll see. Right now I’m too baffled by the fact that it’s already Friday.

Monday.

I have a Secret Rendezvous (special agent code for a “meeting”) on Monday.

It is something that I feel very excited about and hopeful for. I want it to go well! But but but. The monsters are throwing a giant What-iffery party inside my head.

So there is a little anxiety there that I’ll need to spend some time with.

Sore abs.

It’s all that bad-ass training I’ve been doing.

You know what hurts? Laughing. Please do not be funny unless you absolutely have to.

Kidding about that. Be as funny as you like. And don’t mind if I wince from the pain.

When caution is warranted but you kind of wish it wasn’t.

There’s someone I love very much who can be pretty ambivalent about my biggifying. It’s his stuff, and he’s allowed to have it.

But I have to remember to be very careful about how I present information to him.

The good stuff

Look at this picture of Andy and Selma!

Okay, so Kate was at the last Rally (Rally!). She’s amazing!

And she brought Andy.

Andy is a charming, well-traveled and highly photogenic fellow, and he and Selma hit it off marvelously.

Is this not the most adorable thing you have ever seen?

I am so strong right now. I am so at home right now.

I have energy. I have zooom coursing through my veins.

But not in a stressful way. Just a peaceful, grounded, ready here I am.

My body knows what it’s doing, and we are friends and we delight in hanging out, and we are making lots and lots of time for each other.

This is the thing I have been working and playing towards for the past several years. I’ve had it in bits and pieces, in spurts and hidden moments.

This week it was just there.

Giant progress! And a new gorgeous ritual that I love.

I had a massive epiphany (thank you, Shiva Nata) about how I treat my desires.

Specifically that I turn my gwishes into iguanas by leaving them hanging out in awkward places or hiding them until I process them (which then I don’t).

So instead I created a secret home for my wishings, and started decorating it.

I’m using a book technique that I learned from Joy.

Each gwish goes into a red envelope with a magic reminder-word on it.

With information about its qualities and superpowers. What Barrington says about why this wish is important and meaningful.

Once a week I choose one gwish and do some playing and processing around it.

The ones that are done go into orange envelopes, and those go into a special book.

They become reminders about types of wanting that used to scare me but don’t anymore! And I can also track what has changed as a result of wishing the wishes.

This is HUGE!

Speaking of wishes….

The thing I have been massively wanting (but terrified of because ohmygod it’s so great) since the day we moved into the Playground space is on the verge of coming true.

Clews and coincidences! .

Walking my usual walk to dance class, there was construction.

I decided that going around the block was not be a waste of time, because it would hold a clew for me. Just because.

There were three clues and then there it was. The EXACT thing I needed.

Then after my dance class, I went to visit R and she gave me an even better clew about the same thing. That information can help me get the thing much faster. Plus there is a secret rooftop deck, and that is another clew.

I’m sorry that I can’t tell you more about this, but just know that it’s all very tingly and exciting.

It’s a win-win-win-win-win. Win. Or something.

I ran into J, and it turns out that my secret plan that I can’t talk about is also good for her and also good for the other person that I was worried might not like it.

So basically the thing I want is good for everyone involved.

And everyone is FOR IT! They support me in wanting it.

The Floating Playground site is all ready after months of hard work.

And it is gorgeous.

More about that to come but for now just know that it is BEAUTIFUL.

Even more wishes coming true. All over the place.

Like asking you guys if anyone had Bryan’s Long, Slow & Deep CD, because it’s out of print and sells for fifteen hundred dollars now.

And Gaye did. She’s sending it to the Playground!

My number one partner-in-crime is on her way here too.

And everything is coming together.

Reflecting.

I have been reflecting on things, using words and images and collage-like bits.

The reflectings are smarter than me, and I am listening.

This is related to the thing I said last week (which is still true) about how setting expectations goes hand in hand with releasing expectations, and how when I do both, everything works.

Another epiphany!

Because the shivanautical zapping is just getting better.

Here it is:

Play keeps me present.

Work keeps me from being present.

I am sneakily inventing new ways to turn every aspect of my work into silly childlike exploration. Even when it seems like it will take longer.

It’s working. You should have seen me on Wednesday with my scepter and my elephant ears, getting stuff done like nobody’s business.

I have an Almanac and it is the best! Thing! Ever!

Thanks to Cairene who helped me realize that I needed to metaphor mouse the quarters of the year.

And now I am in love with next year. And tossing everything that is not congruent, even if it seems like a smart thing to do, business-wise.

Ohmygod. Congruence is EVEN BETTER than I’d imagined it would be.

I have been working on CONGRUENCE as my theme for the past month.

And I’d always imagined that congruence would feel very placid.

But now that it’s here, it’s actually blissful.

I’ve felt so incredibly happy about being alive this week. Aligned and peaceful and creative and trusting. It’s grounded, but it’s also so very sparkly.

The more I am playful, the more things fit. And the more things fit, the more I play. Like that. I am not explaining any of this very well, but be happy for me if you can. I am going to figure out what I know about this state, and we will bottle it! 🙂

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

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

  • Skate-aroke! It’s roller skating karaoke. Come on!
  • This beautiful, honest and heartfelt post from my friend Michelle about divorce, pain and yoga.
  • Hiro made a video of her poem and you should experience it. I love her voice so much and I could listen to her all day. Our business is the business of love.
  • This interview with Scald Eagle, my favorite skater, all around amazing person and soon-to-be a shivanaut!

Okay, so I’ve mostly been reading derby-related stuff this week but that’s because I’m so excited about the new season starting, you guys.

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 brought to you by my iPhone not understanding the word glorrrrious.

Glitter Riots of Possibility

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. Rally prices are going up at the end of the month. Most of the 2012 rallies are close to full. Seriously. Find a way. Come to a Rally (Rally!).
  2. If you’re planning on doing anything I teach next year, you’ll need the Art of Embarking.
  3. We are close to making an announcement about Shivanauticon! It’s crazy. But in the best possible way.

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?

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.

Metaphor Mouse helps me vacate my quarters.

by | Dec 7, 2011 |

There are several people I know who are extraordinarily wise about time.

And about how there is always more of it.

One of these people is my marvelous uncle Svevo. One is my dear friend Hiro. One is Douglas Buchanan. One is Janet Bailey. One is Waverly Fitzgerald. And another is Cairene, one of my partners-in-crime.

Janet, Waverly and Cairene have all come to play with me at Rally (Rally!). Come to Rally. You will seriously meet the most amazing people.

Anyway, yesterday Cairene and I were talking about how we want to interact with the coming year as a year.

We were peeking at my Almanac, which is a version of the Book of You that has to do with your relationship with time. A collection of what you know about how you are at different times of the year.

But then we got stuck when it came to the quarters.

Metaphor Mouse Dividing the year into quarters, that is.

It wasn’t the division part of it that was problematic though. And it wasn’t the four part of it either.

I definitely like 4s.

They’re all over the place in Shiva Nata.

And four is the seasons.

Four is the right size (for me, yes?) for allowing the year to fall into segments that I can visit and explore in depth.

But something about thinking about the year in terms of quarters was a sticking point.

So I sent up the not-a-bat signal, and called on metaphor mouse to help untangle the stuck. Here’s what happened.

What’s not working?

A reminder: We know from the “People Vary” principle that words can have intensely personal definitions. My definitions will probably differ from yours.

Any negative associations with quarter?

Let’s see. YES.

Like these:

[+fiscal] [+boring] [+forced planning] [+not creative or innovative]
[+board meetings] [+arbitrary] [+divisive]
[+incongruent] [+inorganic] [+separate from the world] [+calculated]
[+irrelevant] [+externally imposed] [+not fun!]

Reminds me of?

Having an executive calendar. Things straight people do. Things adults do.

Sitting in a leather swivel chair in uncomfortable chairs having an excruciatingly dull powerpoint presentation inflicted on me about Fiscal Reports and Annual blah blah earnings ohmygod get me out of here.

Edit! I said chairs twice! The second one was meant to be clothes but I’m keeping it as chairs because it made me laugh.

It’s definitely indoors. Fluorescent lights. Uncomfortably low ceilings. Coffee breath. Everyone is bored stiff.

I’m not sure where I have this image from because, gott sei dank, I have never been in a place like this.

On second thought, it looks like the office meeting room from Arrested Development. Got it.

What do I want?

Words and qualities that are important:

[+intuitive] [+organic] [+seasonal] [+cyclical]
[+movement] [+wholeness] [+permission] [+spaciousness]
[+belonging] [+containers/homes for things to happen in]
[+fractal flowers] [+fun!] [+anticipation]

Reminds me of?

Hmmm.

I’m out in the world. In nature. But not exposed. My senses are engaged. I’m actively present in this space.

I’m in a garden. Whoah, garden beds? There could be four of those…

No, it’s not just about the garden. There’s definitely indoor space that exists outdoors. It’s all very cozy.

So this is an estate. What does an estate have? It’s not a wing or a suite. It’s a cottage! Or a place on the estate that has both land/garden and a place to hide in.

Cairene: Yes! Because time is a dimension, not a force! You can shape it.
Me: Yeah! Exactly. You are THE BEST. Thank you for saying that in the exact right way for me.

What do I know about this new space?

Okay. There are four parts. Four places I can go on this estate. Which is mine, because it’s part of my kingdom.

And each of these spaces is connected to a season.

Each has both elements of nature and of shelter. Outdoors and indoors.

  1. There is a winter cabin. Is it a lodge? I’m calling it a cabin.
  2. The spring cottage.
  3. The summer gazebo.
  4. The fall treehouse.

These seasons do not line up with the fiscal quarters. They have their own rhythms and they echo the outdoors.

What else do I know?

I do not live in any of these places. That’s what the Humming Castle is for (sorry, I haven’t written about that yet but just assume that it is AWESOME).

But each of these spaces is the home for my plans, hopes, gwishes and mysterious projects for that particular season.

I can move about from place to place throughout the course of the year.

And get this! These … spaces have essentially become the living quarters for what I want to do in that thing that used to be called a quarter.

So I’ve gotten rid of quarters and replaced them with quarters.

(Then I had to collapse in giggles for about ten minutes.)

The useful questions.

Cairene got me thinking about useful things to ask.

Like what tools and furnishings live in each one.

What is ready and waiting for me there?

How do I mark the transition times? Are there customs that will help me exit the summer gazebo and ready myself for the fall treehouse?

And I always like to ask what would make this experience pleasurable. For me.

Because if I want a warm, peaceful relationship with time, and if I want each of the quarters to be a home for the adventures we’ll have in them, then I can’t allow that process to turn into stressful, horrible work. That would kind of defeat the purpose.

And in the meantime, I’m in the cabin. Playing. Getting to know what it’s like. So far I can tell you that it smells like pine, and there are shelves in all the right places.

Play with me! The commenting blanket fort.

Metaphor Mouse reported that he’s happy to stick around, so you’re more than welcome to use his superpowers to unpack, translate or rewrite any words you like.

We’re all working on our stuff. We make room for people to have their own experience, and we don’t tell each other how to be or what to feel.

If you would like to be on my Enthusiastic and say HOORAY for how happy I am right now about my new metaphor, that is very welcome. Or you can share a deep exhale, which is what I did when I discovered that even something as impersonal as quarters could have its own home.

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

p.s. Metaphor mousing is another way to get to the practice of conscious entry. So if messing about with words appeals to you, give it a try. Or come to a Rally (Rally!), because people tend to accidentally become friends with metaphor mouse there, and it happens really easily and unexpectedly. Yay!

Long, Slow & Deep

by | Dec 7, 2011 |

This would be about eight or nine years ago. I’m not sure exactly — time is being slippery that way.

I worked as a yoga teacher in a studio in a northern suburb of Tel Aviv.

The studio occasionally sponsored workshops by various famous teachers, and this time we were bringing in Bryan Kest.

I wasn’t particularly leaning towards going — all of my money went to yoga trainings as it was, and this sounded like it might be of the the kind of yoga that didn’t especially interest me (power! core! work it, baby!).

But then things happened.

As they do.

The studio asked me, as the employee with the most English, to be the liaison. And to take Bryan on a tour of Tel Aviv.

I agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and then was delighted to discover that all my preconceptions were wrong.

Pomegranates.

Bryan approached Tel Aviv like a yogi and like a puppy at the same time.

With quiet receptivity and joyful curiosity.

Tel Aviv is the city I’d had a long, tumultuous and passionate love affair with, and he got it. He figured out all the right things about her right away.

My English was fairly dusty after a decade of not using it, but we were able to bond over the usual and less usual things.

(Like the fact that we’d both grown up in Michigan, and run away from Michigan. We’d been raised in eccentric and unconventional ways. We both thought that yoga and freshly squeezed pomegranate juice were the two best things in the entire world).

Surfing.

I found Bryan to be bright, unpretentious, sweet, caring and a noticer of things worth noticing. His yoga was deep and life-changing, and full of permission, amnesty and patience.

Some things in his class made no sense until you realized that he was coming from southern California, where his studio was overflowing with models and actors and models and people who wanted to be models and actors.

He would remind us not to look at what other people were wearing. This was just when yoga was starting to become trendy in Israel, but still a practice you did in sweats and a tank top. There weren’t fancy workout clothes outside of the gym. Though that was about to change as well.

Someone asked him if he still surfed.

He took a sip of tea. He thought about it. He said, “If there were forty eight hours in a day, I would surf. Surfing comes after yoga and time with my dogs and time with my breath and time with the trees. But if there were more hours, that’s what I would put there.”

I have used that answer for many things.

Ten minutes.

On the third and final day of the all-day every-day yoga workshop, he ran his Long, Slow & Deep class.

Long, extended holds in relatively simple postures. Simple as in: uncomplicated. Not easy.

We slowed down the breath and then slowed it down some more.

When a minute becomes a matter of maybe two breaths, ten minutes flow by with unbelievable speed.

Well, maybe speed isn’t the word. But time becomes timeless, and everything is somehow floating and grounded at the same time.

We’d stay in poses that I normally hated. For ten minutes. Or longer.

And it didn’t matter because time didn’t matter. I didn’t mind being in those formerly uncomfortable places because they were different now. Nothing hurt because we were just pure breath inside of curious beings.

Germany.

I moved to Berlin.

I used the thing about being pure breath when I became ill and couldn’t do anything but cry from the pain.

Actually, I used lots of things that Bryan helped me recognize.

When I’d met him, I had no ambitions to do things in the world.

I was already living out my biggest, most impossible dreams. (Become a yoga teacher! Get paid for something other than bartending in south Tel Aviv! Not working at some horrible company! Never write a resume again for as long as I lived!)

It didn’t occur to me that there was anything more for me to do than to teach yoga at someone’s studio.

But in Germany I taught my own workshops. I ran programs. I invented The Fluent Self. Not just the name, but an entire system of working on your stuff. Yoga for every aspect of being alive.

Bryan thought this was a reasonable and do-able thing to bring into the world. For me it was the tiniest of tiny, sweet things. For him, it was the natural extension of living by what I believed. And why wouldn’t I?

Yesterday.

At various points over the past however-many-years, I’ve gone back to that day of Long, Slow & Deep.

Or to aspects of slowness, length, deepening.

And at many times, I was on the verge of buying the audio CD he made of one of his Long, Slow & Deep classes.

But something would stop me. Something about knowing that I wasn’t ready yet to go into that timeless grounded floating again.

There were still things I had to learn about sovereignty and leadership and entry.

Yesterday, I was ready.

I went to a yoga class that was not my yoga class. And everything about it was not what I wanted or needed. Which, in itself, was exactly what I wanted and needed, because it told me that things had changed.

Gone.

It turns out that there is no more Long, Slow & Deep.

The CD is out of print. Or whatever the term is for audio. Out of production?

Anyway, there are people selling it on Amazon for fifteen hundred dollars.

And there doesn’t seem to be a way to find it.

Now.

Normally I would decide to just let that be my yoga for the day.

To meditate on wanting and desire, on meeting sadness. To find the useful, find out where the practice already lives inside of me and where I don’t need external things to remind me of the internal knowing.

And I did that.

But then I remembered some of that internal knowing. I listened to some of the things that the wanting had to say.

So in addition to my internal processing, I am placing a Very Personal Ad in today’s post. And asking for your help.

What I want and how this could work.

I know this blog has reach.

There are tens of thousands of people who see stuff here. There’s also the Twitter bar and the Frolicsome Bar (our Facebook page) and all the people that our people know. All the people that you guys know.

Someone out there has a copy of Long, Slow & Deep that they can donate to the Playground.

I will be happy to give that person any two of my products, and to thank that person here, unless they would prefer an invisibility cloak.

My commitment.

To know that this is possible.

To practice. To breathe.

To appreciate everything and everyone involved! From the mysterious coincidence that got me the job at that first studio where I met Bryan … all the way to now where I run my own wonderful center for secretly-yogacentric things.

From starting this website six and a half years ago to meeting you now.

To go back to the place where things are long, slow and deep, and to find out what happens there.

Can you help? And playing in the commenting blanket fort.

The full name of the CD I’m looking for is:

Bryan Kest’s Long, Slow & Deep, live from Santa Monica, California.

That’s also the link to the description of it.

Do you have a copy or possibly know someone who has a copy?

You can help by spreading the word. You can help by being enthusiastic about this wish. You can help by celebrating the wanting.

All of that is hugely appreciated!

Usual comment zen applies. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We make this a loving and safe space to process and experience things by not giving unsolicited advice or telling anyone how to feel.

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

And one day we’ll invite Bryan to the bigger Playground, and we will all play together.

Clint Eastwood.

by | Dec 6, 2011 |

Background…? Yes, I should probably give you some.

Okay. When my internal monster collective is being too scary or mean for me to interact with, I call for a negotiator to do it for me.

The current situation: I want to purchase some clothing to help me practice for the necessary identity shift that’s part of something I’m working on right now. A secret costume!

Meanwhile, the monsters are up in arms about the EXTRAVAGANCE and DOOM. And that’s probably enough to go on. Let’s do this.

The setting.

A dark pub.

No, it’s a saloon.

And Clint Eastwood is sitting at a wooden table in the corner. The taciturn, sun-weathered, spaghetti western Clint Eastwood. The ambiguous anti-hero.

The man who single-handledly made poncho-wearing weirdly macho. And sexy.

Meanwhile, the representative of the Monstourage (thank you, Beth) is sitting across from him, looking agitated and angry.

Clint Eastwood looks like Clint Eastwood.

Possibly slightly more unavailable and broody than usual, but it’s kind of hard to tell.

The first round.

Monster rep: This. Is. Absurd.

{The Monster rep slams his fist down on the table menacingly.}

Absurd, I tell you! Don’t you know that Havi JUST SPENT money on things to wear — frivolous! Wasteful! Imprudent!

This is already well beyond what’s allowed. There cannot be talk of more. There can be no Sunday Very Personal Ad asks for things for her. Preposterous!

Absolutely NOT!

Clint Eastwood: ….

{Says nothing. Chews on a piece of straw. Looks at the monster rep.}

The second round.

Monster rep: Yes, okay, fine.

Fine. Yes. Everything she bought this month was on that big sale thing so yes, she saved us a lot of money.

And she would have bought all that over the course of the year anyway, so that was actually sensible. You’re right.

But but but! She might buy more! Extravagance! Danger! Doom! Being judged! Bad things!

There could be more. We CANNOT have more.

Clint Eastwood: ….

{Says nothing. Removes straw from mouth. Lights a cigarette. Exhales. Taps ash. Leans back.}

The third round.

Monster rep: Yes, alright! True, true.

This was stuff she needs. And it means less back and forth between the bolt holes.

And she can use this all for [upcoming conference]. Which is a really big deal.

That sale was a lucky thing — a secret wish come true at the exact right moment.

But please, no more!

What if she ends up with NO MORE money? Lack! Lack! Again! We can’t ever let that kind of suffering happen again! Look how much pain it brought our sweet girl. Please no more pain for her.

And also what if people judge her and think she’s EXTRAVAGANT?!

Clint Eastwood: ….

{Raises eyebrow.}

The fourth round.

Monster rep: Fine. Fine!

You’re going to say we’re just doing that same thing we always do when we try to create walls and force a state of stagnation, instead of allowing for flow.

And you’re probably right. It’s our trust issues! It’s our fear! It’s not in present time. It’s because of then!

We do have trouble trusting.

And yes, when she brought in the Scientists to observe and take notes, science has shown us that when she buys things consciously and with intention, everything is okay.

And yes, the things she is buying right now are congruent with her bigger vision, which is important.

But but! SLIPPER SLOPE! I mean, SLIPPERY! Yes.

What if we let up and she starts buying stuff ALL THE TIME?! Because you know what will happen then, don’t you, Clint Eastwood? Doom doom doom doom doom doom. Doom.

Clint Eastwood: ….

{Puts out cigarette. Looks at rep.}

The fifth round.

Monster rep: Okay, okay, okay.

No doom. We take back the doom. I don’t know why I said doom.

Just show us what’s on the table. What’s in this week’s Gwish Envelope?

Okay, fine. You can also show us the qualities.

And sure, yes. You can even show us the notes from Barrington about why Havi needs this now.

Clint Eastwood: ….

{Slowly pulls out an oilskin packet and pushes it across the table to the monster representative, without blinking or changing expression.}

And then what?

The monster representative looks at the Wish.

He touches the name of the Wish.

The qualities of the wish begin to be released. They float around the table and light up the saloon like little colored lights. Like stars.

It’s a weird little magical moment inside of this dark saloon.

No one else notices anything.

It’s just Clint and the monster rep and the floating sparkling qualities.

The secret essence comes out.

The Wish reveals its secret name and purpose: COVERAGE.

It reveals its secret identity, which I cannot share here.

It shares its secret message:

Sovereignty. Under. Things.

It shows its qualities:

Simplicity. Beauty. Harmony. Efficiency. Flow. Congruence.

It tells me about the secret core layer of strength and power that this costume gives me. It tells me about the superpowers that emerge from having acquired this costume in a harmonious way.

And then the monster rep nods and leaves through a mousehole. I’m not really sure how he got so small all of a sudden.

Clint Eastwood tips his hat to no one in particular and then he’s gone too.

It was a pretty good day.

I got my costume.

Without that stomach-clenching oh noooooo feeling coming out when I went to get my credit card.

It felt safe. The right version of me to be doing this was at the front of the V.

I want to tell you all these things about this! But I am going to take a page from the Clint Eastwood handbook and not say anything else for now.

The commenting blanket fort!

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

We play. We interact with our stuff in the safest ways we can.

We remember the principle of “people vary!”. Each of us gets to take loving responsibility for our stuff, and to separate out from other people’s stuff.

We create a supportive environment by not telling each other what to do or how to feel.

You can play here! Or suggest hilarious western villain names for monster representatives. Or draw things, if you have the Monster Coloring Book.

Besos.

The Fluent Self