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.
Metaphor Mouse helps me vacate my quarters.
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.
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.
- There is a winter cabin. Is it a lodge? I’m calling it a cabin.
- The spring cottage.
- The summer gazebo.
- 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
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.
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.
Very Personal Ads #126: Just ask Barrington
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!
You know, some weeks I have massive VPA resistance, and even the thought of wanting or finding out about the wanting (or admitting to it) is already a really big deal.
This week I have lots of wants, but am not entirely sure how to formulate them. I guess because they seem so contradictory.
On the surface, at least.
But I know from having done this for … yes, a hundred and twenty five weeks in a row … it all kind of sorts itself out.
So maybe I’ll start with that.
Thing 1: An extra helping of clear knowing.
Here’s what I want:
I don’t have to know how all my asks fit together, but I want some perfect simple solutions to show up.
And I would like to remember that these seemingly contradictory things are actually harmonious.
That they support each other. Like fractal flowers. And they share the same basic elements.
Ways this could work:
I could do some Shiva Nata on it and have realizations and see how it could all work.
Actually, knowing Shiva Nata, I’ll come up with six or seven different ways that it could all work.
Which is fine by me!
My commitment.
To do my secret marathon training sessions (shhhh, this is a proxy and it’s actually relaxing and I like it — don’t tell the monsters!).
To reflect.
To ask curious and loving questions about the various things that I want right now, to find out how they’re all connected. To see if there are shared qualities and to spend time with those qualities.
Thing 2: A HAT!
Here’s what I want:
A HAT stands for Havi’s Announcing a Thing , and there is a thing that needs announcing.
This requires a HAT page and some administrative decision-making time.
Ways this could work:
My new experimental practice of Sceptering , which seems to speed things up.
I could use the extremely great Deguiltified Chicken Board from my Kitchen Table program, which does the magic every time.
And I can find out what is hiding inside this HAT and get to know it.
My commitment.
What if there is a restful, playful, fun, ease-filled way this could happen?
Here is my plan! I am going to find out which parts of me think this is even possible , and then ask them for advice about how to talk to the parts of me who think this is bullshit.
Thing 3: A Holiday for the Pirate Queen!
Here’s what I want:
This is embarrassing.
I promised myself a proper vacation after the Shivanautical training I ran in September.
But then there was the September Rally (Rally!) and then the eight day voyage of Crossing the Line and then teaching in Colorado and then the Great Ducking Out .
So basically I’ve been teaching non-stop for months, even though I have already (ahahahaaaaaa) learned the hard way that teaching requires SERIOUS time for assimilation, consolidation and recovery.
And that it’s not enough to just take a few days off but I need to immerse myself in being gone.
The time for this is now.
Before it becomes Emergency Vacation and before my body requires it of me.
Ways this could work:
I have December open.
Shiva Nata could show me some kind of creative, hilarious solution that wouldn’t require a ton of planning but would still be really restorative and awesome.
Oh! Barrington could help!
My commitment.
I am going to interview Barrington and interview Slightly Future Me, and together we are going to find a solution.
Thing 4: The Grand Enthusiastic
Here’s what I want:
As you might have guessed, there is nothing I love more than running Enthusiastics.
I want to do one with some colleagues about my vision for the business, and about 2011 and about 2012. But combined.
Ways this could work:
Maybe as a result of my Pirate Queen Absconding Holiday (which needs an even better name! or a secret agent code name?).
Like, maybe I’ll be so rested and restored and invigorated that the Enthusiastic will just need to happen! And it will be simple and fun.
My commitment.
To enthuse it up!
Thing 5: Ease-filled monster negotiations
Here’s what I want:
There is a thing I need to take care of, and the monsters are dead set against it.
So I want to find out what they need to feel safe, and what their secret mission is.
And I want to resolve this thing so that I can go ahead with my part.
Ways this could work:
Trust. Faith. Practicing.
I can call on some Negotiators.
Also I think metaphor mouse might like to sit in on these sessions as a possible translation assistant. Excellent!
My commitment.
To wear PINK. Because that’s part of the thing being negotiated.
To create shelter and safe rooms for the parts of me who are scared. 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.
Let’s see!
I wanted a stand for the PLUM (the Playground User Manual), and it turned out that Chuck had one. That was easy. Yay!
Then I wanted consolidation and that happened. Though yes, I could use some more.
I also wanted to make three scary things less scary. Two of them are totally not scary anymore. And I can’t remember what the third one is.
So either I’m the most repressed person in the world, or that got resolved too. Phew.
And then I wanted to practice playing with congruence, and that was most of my week. Oh, thank goodness for the Very Personal Ads because HAPPY SIGH I feel so much better now.
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 #174: Poor me, a cup! Pour me a cup!
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, you guys. This is just weird. How is it possibly Friday?
I feel a bit bewildered.
Like maybe this week went by crazy fast and managed to be two weeks at the same time. Fine. Let’s chicken.
The hard stuff
Seeing all the things that are incongruent.
Wanting to change them and bring them into now.
Except some of these are easier than others.
And some involve clearing out old pain, and this is hard.
And also Time-Consuming, the monster representative would like me to add!
Grief.
While I was writing the post about the Enthusiastic, I was listening to Israeli radio. On my phone. Because it’s the future.
This always makes me slightly homesick, but it’s usually worth it to feel home at the same time.
And then when I tuned into the essence of ENTHUSING, this song came on.
It was the song that my friend who is dead used to cover with his band, and hearing it transported me instantly to the first bar I worked at.
It was kind of perfect, because he is the one person who was always truly unconditionally enthusiastic for me — rejoicing in the good, and being awesome when I couldn’t see the good.
He always gets to be on my Enthusiastic! In fact, he would insist on it.
But still I spent a good hour wandering around the Playground, feeling that familiar torn-heart pain of loss again.
How is it already December?!
I shake my fists in protest.
This is an outrage! An outrage, I tell you.
The time thing. It is hard.
Setting expectations. It’s work, y’all.
I don’t really have any more to say about that.
Can we just have a big sigh of agreement?
Actually, I do have more to say about that but no words. I had a massive and indescribable shivanautical epiphany this week about how setting expectations and releasing expectations are intimately connected, and that I have to do both simultaneously.
I don’t know how all the parts fit together yet.
And part of me cannot let that go.
We needed to do lots of safe rooms this week for all of the not-knowing.
Maintaining my space.
The thing with being biggified is that there can be a lot of attention focused at you.
And people project stuff onto you.
Sometimes I’m really good at force-fielding, and other times it takes me longer to recognize what’s going on and clear it out.
The good is that I am so much faster at resolving this. The hard is that being more aware of when it’s happening makes me realize that it is constantly happening.
Someone else’s pain.
I can’t do anything about it except love them.
It’s hard.
And remembering that it is not about me and does not reflect on me is also something that requires steady and active attention.
The good stuff
Congruence play.
I spent pretty much the entire week bringing things into harmonious relationship.
Or really, letting old things fall away and making room for the new things.
And it was easier than the monsters thought it would be. Actually it was pretty fun, most of the time.
It was like being on Rally (Rally!), except by myself.
Related: getting stuff done!
I updated the events page, and rewrote the Shiva Nata events page.
And did a bunch of other things. Done! Done! Hooray!!
We found our Flairground!
The Flairground!
MANY EXCLAMATION POINTS.
It’s where we’re doing Shivanauticon!
MORE EXCLAMATION POINTS.
And there might be a cotton candy machine!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!! I am so excited about this that I am constantly flinging myself on the floor and wriggling around like a puppy. Basically, I am a puppy.
And guess what? Our Playground insurance covers this event as well so we don’t need additional insurance. Bonus win!
Enthusiasm!
I am running a special Enthusiastic at my Kitchen Table program about how it’s going to change in the coming year, and everyone is being awesome and enthusing with me.
This feels so so so good.
Especially compared to past years when I remember there being some minor anxiety attacks and temper tantrums about these kind of announcements. For whatever reasons, people weren’t able to remember to meet their pain first, before responding, as we do here. But now they can. And now I feel less conflicted about reminding them of their ability to do this. And all of this is big progress. Yay.
Anyway, it’s a big deal to be right here, right now, with an amazing group of people who have all done the work to be right here, right now.
If that makes sense.
And it’s a big deal for me to have enthusiasm in my life. So thank you, all of you!
The Playground is the best place to be comforted.
Thank you, hammock. Thank you, cushions. Thank you, wonderful clews and surprises everywhere.
A house is a house for me!
After I wrote about tiny homes for everything, guess what happened?
Léan sent me and the Playground this book called A House Is A House for Me.
I’d never heard of it, and it is just perfect:
“A box is a house for a teabag.
A teapot’s a house for for some tea.
If you pour me a cup and I drink it all up,
Then the teahouse will turn into me!”
Yay! I put it in the Refueling Station, and it seems to like its new home.
Ooh, and we’ve had lots of packets of stickers arrive for the arts & crafts room.
Thanks, Melanie! Thanks, anonymous sticker-donors! Keep them coming… 🙂
I am strong!
And I did a bunch of push-ups this week.
Boy push-ups! Real push-ups!
Or what other people apparently just call push-ups.
This whole wax-on wax-off thing is paying off. It’s a proxy but it’s also happening for real, which just makes the whole thing even better.
Secret Reflectings with my partner-in-crime.
We are doing big work but in the most sneaky roundabout ways.
It is brilliant.
Also I invented this new practice called Sceptering, and it is changing everything in my business, and also completely baffling the monsters.
Gigantic hot buttered epiphany is blowing my mind!
Once I pick my jaw off the ground I will tell you about it.
The magic word is COOPERATIVE.
Taught my first cross-training program of the season.
For the hard-rocking women of Guns N Rollers, the roller derby team that I sponsor.
YEAH!
We did some EXTREMELY bad-ass Shiva Nata (with sound effects and numbers and costumes and hilarious flailing!)
And they talked about some of the results they had from doing this last year, and the whole thing was very inspiring.
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:
- This one is super recent. But read it again! A love letter for you. For the moment in which you become an adventurer.
- 10 myths of biggification. I hardly ever write a “ten things” or “eight blahblahs” sort of post, but this one is important and worth revisiting.
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 all about innuendo and raised eyebrows. And klezmer-ey clarinets.
I am pleased to introduce you to:
Hmm Hmm and the Hmm Hmms.
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
- The January Rally (Rally!) is so close to full. If there’s a way you can make it, doooo eeeet.
- Shivanauticon! YES! Sign up so we can send you details when we have them. We will not send marketing emails to persuade you. Just: here’s what it is.
- People at the last Rally were really good at destuckifying. Turns out most of them already had the Monster Manual & Coloring Book. That makes sense. If you don’t have that, put it on your wish list.
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.