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.
Everything that is mine returns to me.
My superpower this week:
Believing that everything that is mine returns to me.
And finding out what that means.
More on that tomorrow.
In the meantime, what superpower do you wish for today? Let’s use what we know. And maybe we can add some new ones to the book of superpowers too.
Welcome: playing, frolicking, experimenting.
Not welcome: advice, analysis, any form of “have you tried…?”
You guys! Tumbleweeds. They actually tumble!
So. I’ve been on my Denver trip since Wednesday.
Well, sadly to say, I have been near-Denver. Broomfield, Colorado. I do not recommend it. Except for the tumbleweeds. Which are really cool. And, for the record, I’m sure Denver is AWESOME and I will see actual-Denver someday, and we will like each other very much and kiss each other delightedly on the cheeks, and it will be fabulous.
Anyway. Lots happening. Roller derby championships were full of excitement and heartbreak. Our full-page ad was gorgeous. Getting to teach in Boulder was super fun.
And now I’m ready to come home. Really ready.
In the meantime, notes from the road.
Or from the stateroom. Since this is, of course, an imaginary ocean liner voyage.
As so many things are. When you’re me.
The superpower of recognizing superpowers.
I adore superpowers, as you know. And I ask for a new one every day. Just for fun.
It’s a way to practice noticing.
Then that superpower helps me discover the sneaky surprise superpower that I invariably end up absorbing up along with the first one.
The superpower I asked for on the flight over here was seeing all the ways that everything is working.
And my bonus surprise stowaway superpower turned out to be that I got to be hyper-aware of everyone else’s superpowers. Which was the perfect superpower to have.
Other people have the best superpowers, as it turns out…
The woman next to me on the plane had the superpower of finding something beautiful everywhere.
Her granddaughter, who looked my age but somehow had two kids in college, had the superpower of making space.
The two little girls behind me had the superpower of thinking that turbulence was hilariously funny.
They giggled happily at every bounce like they were on the best amusement park ride ever. It was awesome.
They also had the superpower of purple shoes. Snazzy!
Mordor and the Tacoma Screw.
So I always feel kind of bad when someone comes into Portland and you have to drive them into the city proper from the airport.
Because it’s kind of scuzzy-embarrassing-industrial. And not in a fabulous urban decay sort of way. Well, maybe in the right lighting. No, not really.
But really, it’s a bunch of warehouses and strip clubs. Lots and lots of strip clubs. And you’re thinking, please don’t look!
And the screw factory. Which, weirdly, is not a strip club.
I mean, if I were going to open a strip club… it would definitely be called The Screw Factory.
Has there ever been a more apt name for a venture that involves both nudity and chicken fried steak? I think not. This would also have to be the name of my band, because it is the best band name ever. But is it just one guy?
Oh, and get this.
The screw factory is actually called Tacoma Screw. So everyone pretty much has to think it’s a strip club anyway. Right?
Ohmygod. If it were my strip club, we’d refer to absolutely EVERYTHING as the Tacoma Screw. It would be a drink! A show! A side dish.
Would you like a Tacoma Screw with your fries? Of course you would. Who wouldn’t?
But back to Mordor.
When I said that I was going to Denver with Barrington, Leni suggested in the comments that I view the drive from the airport to the hotel as a scenic visit to Mordor.
I thought she was exaggerating. Being playful. Because it’s a brilliant idea.
But seriously, the drive from the Denver airport really and truly was a tour of some nightmarish sci-fi hellscape.
It actually makes my Portland survey of broken strip clubs seem significantly less distressing. And never again will I avert my eyes in shame and resignation when faced with the Tacoma Screw sign.
First there were box stores upon box stores upon box stores.
Then miles of bleak industrial smoke-stacks and cranes and machinery in this awful blackened steaming fog-soup doomscape that somehow managed to be post-apocalyptic and Dickensian at the same time.
Even pretending I’d landed in a weirdly awesome mash-up between Lord of the Rings and Metropolis did not really make it significantly less depressing.
Then pawn shops. Then another round of endless and identical box stores.
Then horrible planned communities and more box stores!
Obviously I know Denver is marvelous because I know way too many super-cool people who live here for it not to be. But man, that is an incredibly depressing way to enter a city.
A round of Tacoma Screws for everyone! May they mercifully obliterate the memory of that miserable, desperation-filled landscape before I have to do it again today on the way back.
Today my superpower will be finding tiny signs that remind me of the existence of beauty and luminosity and hidden radiance. And coming up with names for drinks.
Notes for Barrington.
I forgot to tell Barrington about the way hotels omit words that are important.
When we OOD-ed this trip, we wrote about the importance of internet access.
But then the hotel said they had high speed wireless internet in every room, and we forgot that the magic missing word there is “complimentary”.
I am putting Barrington in charge of this situation. She can decide whatever she wants. Either we calculate giant internet surcharges into travel expenses or we bring an ipad. Or we write blog posts beforehand and don’t check in with the world while we’re in another city.
But something has to change. Because paying to put up a Friday Chicken is just annoying.
Luckily Barrington is ever so handy at making useful decisions about what to do differently next time. So I’m sure whatever she plans will be fine.
What Would Barrington Do?
Have you any idea how very useful Barrington has been on this trip?
First she talked me out of bringing the massive rose garland, the purple and pink feather boa, and the purple cowboy hat with the feathers.
Because the rainbow snake and the purple wig is ALREADY the best derby boutfit that ever was, and no more is needed. Ever. She was right.
She was also right that I did not need jewelry. And about socks. Socks!
She also packed me way more snacks than I ever thought necessary. But they have all been necessary.
I simply adore Barrington. Even though this is how I speak when Barrington is around.
What happens next?
I would rather like to interview Barrington. Maybe instead of doing a spangly Revue.
What does she think worked well? What would she do differently next time?
And how is she going to help me exit and recover? Ah, notes from the road.
That’s what’s next…
Play with me. In the spacious commenting blanket fort
So those were my notes from the road. That’s what I’m thinking about.
In the meantime, let’s play!
You can invent names for strip clubs, you can interview your own Barrington, you can wish for bonus superpowers. Whatever you like.
If you feel like it.
I would also like imaginary snacks that do not exist yet, so if you can help me come up with some, that would be fun.
As always, we’re all working on our stuff. We make this a safe space for playing by letting people have their own experience, and not telling each other what to do or how to feel.
xox
p.s. You guys! I’m back tomorrow! And there will be details about Shivanauticon. Are you excited? Because I am so excited that I can hardly even sit still.
Very Personal Ads #123: sweet, sweet order
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!
Happy Sunday, you guys!
I’m still in Denver (well, outside of Denver), but will be back soon-ish.
What do we want to ask for this week? Let’s find out.
Thing 1: For a challenging decision to resolve itself.
Here’s what I want:
Come on, decision! What if this decision could just figure itself out instead of someone (me) having to make it?
That would be really great.
Ways this could work:
I can do Shiva Nata on it, of course.
And use my mini marathon-training session (shhhhh, that’s a proxy!).
Rest on it, sleep on it, use the force.
My commitment.
To practice trust. Trust, trust and more trust.
Whichever way this goes is the way it will go, and it will either be the right decision or it will give me useful information about the next decision.
Thing 2: Oh, fractal flowers.
Here’s what I want:
Right now I have four different projects that all need my love and attention. They’re all related, and I know that working on one will have positive effects on the others.
That’s the part about the fractal flowers.
But I need to remember this. And I want to play with it more consciously.
Ways this could work:
Again, those mini marathon-training sessions. To music. With an eye pillow. Yes.
Also, I can talk to slightly future me. And interview the projects.
And generally act like I’m on Rally (Rally!).
My commitment.
To notice flowers everywhere.
To plant secret wishes.
To throw everything into the pot.
Thing 3: Fifteen mini-newts!
Here’s what I want:
Sometimes I forget to do my (wink!) mini marathon-training sessions. Even though they are vital to everything else that needs to happen.
I forget that they make everything better.
So I am trying to do a 90 second mini marathon-training session every fifteen mini-newts.
And to do a longer one at 18 minutes past the hour. If/when I remember.
And to do a song’s worth of mini marathon-training before and after each activity. Ugh, activity. What a horrid word. Where’s metaphor mouse? Okay, I need to rename that.
Anyway, this whole thing was going really well, but it’s been hard to maintain while traveling. I need more of this.
Ways this could work:
B could remind me. In code!
I could set a special reminder on my phone?
The number fifteen could magically become fun. Or maybe I need to switch the numbers?
I don’t know.
My commitment.
To remember that I’m allowed to have fun with this.
In fact, it kind of has to be fun or it won’t work.
To remember that this is a glorrrrrrious experiment, and whatever happens is useful information.
To take notes about what helps and why.
Thing 4: Recovery…
Here’s what I want:
I sort of forgot how much I can’t handle traveling. Even though I took a break from flying places for a year.
Sometimes I think it’s not the being-places so much as the getting there.
But really? It’s all of it.
My entire body is sore and miserable right now. And that’s despite all the lovely things that Barrington planned — like two marvelous massages, and all the baths and going to the pool.
I really need my bed. And the other beautiful, reassuring, comforting, peaceful structures and forms (both symbolic and real) that hold up my life.
Plus I’ll have less than a week to prepare myself for the Great Ducking Out, so I need this recovery time to happen speedily and smoothly.
Ways this could work:
Wally. Wally can help. And Barrington too, of course.
Also music.
Also returning to sweet, sweet, blessed routine as soon as possible.
And getting back to Portland where things are green, and there is oxygen. I’m pretty sure that will help.
Ah, physical proof that my surroundings are pulsing with the life force.
But really, I need uninterrupted time and space to come back to myself.
My commitment.
To slow everything down.
More conscious entry. More loving exits.
More spaciousness for my poor body and for this entire experience.
Thing 5: Shivanauticon!
Here’s what I want:
Only the most exciting thing in the entire world.
Shivanauticon! The Unconventional.
It’s like a convention, except way more fun.
In August.
I need to start the process of announcing. And there are all sorts of bits and pieces that need to fall into place for that to happen.
Ways this could work:
Hmmm.
I could whisper-brunch the Hey-this-is-coming page.
The website: Shivanauticon.com, of course.
Or I could put up the bare minimum of details.
And I can ask the Enthusiastic for help.
My commitment.
To have at least one surreptitious rendezvous with one of my partners in crime.
Planning sessions interspersed with shivanautical flailing.
To fill up on love and make a secret room for this.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see! I wanted a perfect, simple solution to finding a stage-like thing for my workshop in Boulder, and it totally happened. Liz was able to borrow a riser from her son’s school and bring it to the studio. Thank you.
I also wanted consolidation and Revue for recovering from the Olympics, and that happened too.
Then I needed to magically create the Page That Could Not Be Mentioned Except By Proxy in time for the roller derby championships.
And it happened!
Do you want to see it? It’s here: ShivaNata.com/derby.
Also the full-page ad in the program that sent people there? Gorgeous. It looked just the way I wanted it to. Which is its own medium-sized miracle.
And I wanted recommendations for a speaker system for the Playground. Got a few but would be happy for some more.
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
p.s. We always need stickers for the arts & crafts room at the Playground, so if you have any you could send our way, that would be wonderful.
Packages for the Playground can be sent care of:
The Fluent Self, Inc.
1526 NE Alberta St. #218
Portland, OR 97211
United States
Thank you!
Friday Chicken #171: not really a marathon
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.
Chicken!
And I’m in Denver. For roller derby Championships! As wished for in the OOD.
Let’s do this.
The hard stuff
Change.
The experience of Crossing the Line was so completely amazing and transformative.
And everything is different now. EVERYTHING.
I knew that would happen, but I didn’t realize how much.
Having changed in such a substantive way means that stuff that used to work doesn’t work anymore.
I warned my people abut this but forgot that it has the same effect on me too.
So. Lots of system changes. Lots of bringing things into congruence. Things I used to love are now completely unappealing, because they involve less-than-sovereign situations.
Right now being around unsovereign situations is untenable.
Heightened awareness of gaps.
And seeing more clearly what isn’t working, and why.
Expectations.
Blech.
Deadlines.
Rushing to finish the Shiva Nata pages that our ad links to.
Head bump.
Ow.
Travel.
It’s not really my thing.
It’s disorienting. And being squoonched up in an airline seat is distressing. I can actually feel the harm I’m doing to my body just by being there.
And I miss my life and my routines and the Playground.
Though yes, after a year off from going places by plane, it was useful to discover that the whole thing is somewhat less awful than I’d remembered.
The foods..
It seems the Denver suburbs where we are staying for roller derby are not all that familiar with the concept of vegetarianism.
One place was baffled. The other place just gave me the chicken.
And not in the Friday Chicken sense.
Next time I’m packing a suitcase of groceries. Or staying in Boulder.
The good stuff
The Crossing was so amazing, and so are the side effects!
Like being full of love and joy.
Like knowing exactly what I want.
Like having brilliant idea after brilliant idea, and knowing what to do with them too.
You’re coming next year, right? You should. I can’t wait.
A quadzillion epiphanies.
All the shivanauttery from last week is still setting off brilliant, sparkling, humming moments of realization.
I’m remembering things. Seeing all the connections. Reconnecting to the forgotten bits.
Shiva Nata, you guys. Hard core.
Tea!
Yael brought this yummy Tulsi Sweet Rose tea to the Playground, and then Briana mixed it with Egyptian Licorice, and the combination is the most magical thing.
Hooray for tea.
Back to dance class, tentatively.
And the first class back after fourteen days off was not anywhere near the painful nightmare I’d been anticipating.
Bounce!
Planning marvelous things with the first of my partners in crime.
Secret Agent #1.
And doing lots of top-secret marathon-training sessions. (That’s a proxy, of course.)
The Shiva Nata workshop!.
We had two hours together yesterday, and they flew by.
So I will say this:
What lovely, fun, creative people! What joy to flail and sing and hum and twinkle together.
It was a beautiful studio and a beautiful time.
Plus there were sound effects, secret missions, a butt-monster and surprising hidden things about flags.
Thank you, Liz, for the stage and the ride. Thank you, Adrian for giving up your Thursday-off! Thank you, Lucy, for letting us use your studio and taking care of us. Thank you, past Rallions who added to the Playground-ey feel. Thank you, everyone who came. I love you all!
Also, thank you to Leni for saying this:
“You’re here! It’s like a Grateful Dead show and Christmas morning at the same time!”
I’m totally dropping my HAT page and just using that instead.
Comfort.
The hotel room has crazy high ceilings, a lovely view and a large bathtub. Happiness.
Plus Barrington scheduled me a massage, and it was absolutely brilliant. Oh, that Barrington.
Ohmygod Championships! You guys!
This is the most exciting thing imaginable — so thrilling I can hardly stand it.
WE’RE HERE!!!!
Let’s do it, Rose City!
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 also does all their own dancing.
Prairie Dogs in Bowler Hats.
Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.
Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.
Picture me wearing that crazy hat…
- Reminder: Rally prices are out of date. They’re going up. Also we have TWO spots left for the January Rally. Come play. It will be incredible.
- I highly recommend the Art of Embarking, which is the thing I am most excited about right now. Expect this to be the prerequisite for everything next year.
- Oooh, and registration for the Floating Playground will be opening this month. If you’re not on my HAT list (Havi’s Announcing a Thing), 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?
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.
I highly recommend doing this.
The reason I was walking around two different airports yesterday wearing a giant fuzzy rainbow snake and carrying a very soft cow with a giant head is actually very simple.
They don’t fit into my luggage.
And Flopsy Cowpers doesn’t like the dark, so the inside of a suitcase would be no place for Flopsy anyway.
Also I was wearing a large purple rose in my hair because I couldn’t find a way to pack it without it getting smooshed.
So I may have been a little odd-looking. Ahahahaaaaaa. A little more odd-looking than usual.
This turned out to be a good thing. An exceptionally good thing.
Wearing a giant snake (with a loopy-but-happy expression and a very pink tongue) actually serves many, equally useful purposes. I need to remember this.
- A giant fuzzy rainbow snake keeps you so warm that you don’t need your coat on the plane! Very cozy.
- Everyone who encounters you smiles a giant smile. They cannot help themselves. Wham. Their day is now slightly better.
- The TSA guy asked if I was studying to be a veterinarian and then couldn’t stop laughing. But happy-laughing. This is the best question I have ever been asked. Also I didn’t have to go through the loathsome machines. Probably unrelated, but I’m going to just go ahead and give the snake credit here.
- The flight attendant also burst into giggles and then asked if she could touch its head. This is also a first. It’s sort of hard to explain how this makes flying more fun but it just does.
- It’s a really great scarf. Better than a scarf, really.
- Also it functions as a neck rest. I did not know that.
- Wearing a giant fuzzy rainbow snake is kind of a sign that announces that you are a total kookypants. It gives you a certain degree of spaciousness.
- There is room for you. Literally because oh, look, a giant fuzzy rainbow snake. People make room for you. But also emotionally and mentally. It’s a buffer. I adore buffers!
- But you also get to meet all the fun people. Because you have secretly winked at them with your snake. So they talk to you. And you can talk to them too. Or not. Either way is okay because no one expects you to be predictable when you’re carrying a cow and wearing a colorful boa. Constrictor.
Weirdly, no one made any “snakes on a plane” jokes. So that was okay.
And here’s the best part.
You know how I completely dread being asked what I do?
And how I turn into a stuttering mess whenever this happens?
Which is why I have to pretend I’m five years old or suddenly announce that I’m on silent retreat, or tell people that I’m an interior-interior designer and/or anInternational Woman of Mystery…
Well, yesterday the woman seated next to me asked what I did, and I just said it:
“I run this center where people go to play! It’s like preschool but for grown-ups! There’s napping and snacks and costumes and toys, and people come there from all over the world to work on secret projects while eating pretzel sticks and finger-painting and singing pirate songs!”
And she said, Oh, of course that’s what you do.
Because it totally made sense. There’s really nothing else I could do. I mean, come on. I’m wearing a giant fuzzy rainbow boa. Constrictor.
And I have a cow. Named Flopsy Cowpers.
I already knew this, of course.
I always say that costumes solve everything. But I hadn’t thought to take myself so literally, you know?
Worth doing, as Nick would say.
This is the only way to travel.
For me, at least. I can’t wait for my next trip!
Yesterday my big plan was to get a suitcase big enough to hold my giant rainbow snake.
Now my plan is to be the person who has the best snake-scarf. And the best cow. And all doors open for her. Because that’s what happened yesterday.
Play with me. In the spacious commenting blanket fort
So. I’m in Denver right now. Hello, Denver.
With Selma. And the Schmoppet. And Flopsy Cowpers. And the snake.
Anyway… this afternoon we’ll be in Boulder!
Teaching a shivanautical workshop and giggling. With twenty seven lovely, lovely people who read this blog.
In the meantime, let’s play!
You can invent airport costumes and traveling costumes and secret missions. Costumes can also be invisible, you know. Some of the best costumes are invisible.
As always, we’re all working on our stuff. We make this a safe space for playing by letting people have their own experience, and not telling each other what to do or how to feel.
Love to you, from me and the Fluent Self menagerie. All the way from Colorado to wherever you are at the moment.