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.
A love letter to you. For the moment in which you become an adventurer.
This is a letter to you.
It might be just the thing. It might also not make sense right now. It might speak to a tiny seed for later.
You might think it’s not for you because of situations and circumstances, but actually it is for you.
It is a letter for Slightly Future You, but you can read it now.
It is a letter for a version of you, the one who will be there when you decide to maybe yes maybe yes yes yes yes go ahead and journey to the Playground.
The you who will set off on a Rally (Rally!). Or a play training. Or another adventure entirely.
The point is: this is for you. Eventually.
My dear,
My dear,
There is something I have to tell you. It is a wonderful and a hard something.
When you sign up for this experience, you are saying YES to our grand adventure together, as well as to all the possibilities that it holds. Or at least a YES to meeting those possibilities and getting to know them.
You are saying YES to the voyage.
And there are some hugely important things about saying YES to a voyage that no one ever really talks about. We need to talk about them.
1. Saying YES to a voyage can be pretty freaking terrifying.
This is normal and to be expected. There is a very good reason for this, trust me.
2. A voyage — especially a voyage like this one — changes you.
There’s really no good way around this.
It just does. It changes you.
3. Not in a bad way.
It’s not like you become someone else.
You’re still you. It’s just better.
You become more of yourself. Filled up with shining, radiant you-ness.
Almost as if you’re suddenly…more at ease with yourself. More there. More at home in your life, and more at home making conscious, loving changes in your life.
Congruent. Present is another good word.
4. But you know what? Change is scary.
Even the very best kinds of totally-good-for-you and desired change are scary. Even the changes that you have hungered after and wished for.
And this deep, powerful becoming-more-you identity change is extra-triple-quadruple scary.
Internal shifting. It’s hard stuff.
5. Because there are parts of you who are deeply invested in these changes not happening.
What do I mean by parts of you?
Old fear and old hurts.
Sad, scared, younger versions of you who forget that now is not then.
Grooves of patterns. Samskaras. Neurons running down their familiar pathways. Assumptions and habits. And Fuzzball monsters.
They don’t want you to have this experience. They don’t want to lose you.
And they suspect that once you do this, they won’t be able to keep you paralyzed with fear anymore.
6. Forces in motion. Equal and opposite reaction.
So in that moment of making a commitment to the forces of positive change, you’ve set something in motion.
And that something includes all the forces of resistance that DON’T want it. Ack! No motion! Make it stop!
You have invoked the wanting, and with it you have woken up all the aspects of you who are afraid of what will happen when you get it.
The desire is fighting with the fear of what is desired. And you might perceive this as: anxiety, stuckness, heart-palpitations, dread, paralysis, doom, oh-dear-lord-what-have-I-done?!
I repeat: all of this is normal. This is okay. The resistance is a sign that you really do want it. But yes, it is not fun.
7. And the experience has already begun.
You’ll think that the voyage is happening on the dates you’ve marked off on your calendar but that’s not true.
The adventure and all the trepidation/panic/excitement that goes along with it does not begin when you arrive at the Playground.
It’s happening from the moment you sign up.
It’s happening from the moment you decide.
It’s happening from the moment you know. Maybe even the moment before that.
Something has been set in motion.
8. I have to tell you something else.
Even if you’ve never done Shiva Nata (which is fine), I think you’ll understand this:
People who are not shivanauts think that they are their patterns.
“I’m sad. I’m scared. I’m anxious. I’m upset. I’m freaking out.”
As if: This is a truth about the universe that I have identified, and it is completely factual, and this experience is the entirety of my being. It defines me.
While people who do Shiva Nata know that everything is a pattern.
“Fear. This feels familiar. Oh, right. Pattern.
“This is information. This is useful. This is normal. This is interesting.
“So. How can I interact with this? What elements do I recognize? Where are the gaps?
“How can I lovingly, intentionally and creatively acknowledge and interrupt this pattern so it can be rewritten?”
You can decide to approach things that way too. Anything. That’s what this site and my six-year-old business and my entire life are all about.
9. Call it by name.
In that moment of anxiety about saying YES to the adventure, you can name it for what it is:
This is me, going through the normal thing that happens upon saying yes to the big adventure. And I get to interact with this experience. It’s not happening to me. I am approaching it.
10. Choose conscious entry.
Several years ago, I did a training in Israel with Dharma Mittra, and he said this beautiful thing about yoga poses.
Try to enter and exit a posture as you would want to be in it.
This concept made my brain explode and also I really did not like it.
I already had my grunt-and-struggle ways of getting in and out of things. All this attention to entry and exit seemed like just another thing to feel guilty/sad about.
But later I appreciated this. Conscious entry. Conscious exit. It’s what we practice at Rally (Rally!)
We do it here on too. In the Friday Chicken, the weekend VPAs, the saying Hello, Day or Hello, Month or Hello, Moon or Hello, Rain.
So in this moment of YES to a voyage: what if you entered as you wanted to be in it?
If you want to feel calm, peaceful, energized and sparkly-excited at Rally, call on those qualities when you press the YES button.
11. Like this:
What if you intentionally made space for the fear and the worry?
You can make safe rooms for yourself.
You can find out why now is different than then.
You can call for a negotiator or use metaphor mouse or color in a monster or listen to my Emergency Calming The Hell Down audio.
You can experiment and play. Without diving into the hard and the scary, acknowledging its existence. Interacting with its existence. Staying at the edges.
You can get grounded and centered for the YES, knowing the fluttery butterflies are part of adventuring.
You can know that you are loved and adored. You are welcome and you belong. I do not expect anything of you except for what is already there.
You are ready. And the adventure will happen as it needs to happen.
That was my love letter. And here’s the blanket-fort comment zen.
Working on your stuff is hard. I’ve been doing pretty much nothing but this for the past nearly seven years and it’s still hard. Less hard. But still.
It’s a practice. It takes time and repetition. We make room for the hard and painful parts. We give ourselves and each other spaciousness and permission. We take responsibility for our experience.
We don’t tell each other what to do or how to feel. We pause (paws!) and breathe. We bring the hard parts to the fountain.
Very Personal Ads #113: walk this way
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!
I have to tell you something funny.
Last week I wanted to put in an Very Personal Ad about rewriting the Rally (Rally!) page. And didn’t.
Mainly because I knew there wouldn’t be time to work on it, so why bother asking for something that wasn’t going to happen.
But then last night I was hit with a post-shivanautical crazed rush of inspiration and flow. So I rewrote the page. Thank you, silent VPA!
Okay! Onward to this week.
Thing 1: More walking. And different walking.
Here’s what I want:
I have been exploring bits and pieces of my city that I don’t know as well. And I want more walking! And companionship and exploration.
Ways this could work:
This marvelous book I have called WALK THERE!
Maybe one of my new walking companions will want to pick a walk at random and go try it out.
There are also a bunch of ideas here, though I don’t yet have a sense of what appeals to me.
Maybe I’ll start my own walking club. For PDX Shivanauts!
Hmmm. What are the qualities behind the desire?
I wish for: [+strength] [+inspiration] [+perspective] [+moderation] [+patience] [+creativity] [+flow] [+endurance] [+equilibrium] [+discovery] [+belonging].
My commitment.
To do some more meditating and stone skipping on what this wish entails.
To do a bit of research about walks and walking groups to see what appeals to me.
To be filled with love for where I live.
Thing 2: The new pickle!
Here’s what I want:
I’m in the process of redoing the application system for my retreats and programs. Right now it’s called the Pickle Page. It’s changing.
There will also be applications for Rally (Rally!).
But I had a brilliant idea about how to do this in a way that would make it more fun and less terrifying.
And now I need to implement that idea. Ideally soon because I am in the process of brunching Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage.*
So. I need time, space and to be in the zone.
* Formerly known as the Week of Destuckification/ the Week Biggification. Better in every way.
Ways this could work:
Some Shiva Nata, of course.
This will need music. And probably a visit from metaphor mouse.
My commitment.
To stay connected to the essence: ease, play and lightness.
To remember the purpose.
To eat a pickle. And maybe a knish. This might require a knish.
Thing 3: This is a body one and a systems one
Here’s what I want:
I have about a week and a half of teaching coming up. The Shiva Nata Academy Training starts Wednesday. Then Monday is already the September Rally.
So between this Wednesday and the following Thursday, I’m practically going to be living at the Playground.
Which will be amazing and beautiful.
But it also means that I won’t get to go to my usual dance classes or do my usual tramping or any of that.
I want a plan/system/map for spending quality time with my body.
Ways this could work:
Maybe buying some audio or video downloads and doing my workout at the Playground.
More Shiva Nata and old Turkish lady yoga, of course.
There are some studios near the Playground that I could visit.
Maybe one of my friends could sit down with me and help me think this through, because it’s the sort of thing that I have trouble doing on my own. Talking it out will be useful.
My commitment.
To keep talking to my body, telling it how much I care, finding out what it needs, committing to being present.
Thing 4: the whisper brunch!
Here’s what I want:
To tell people about Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage.
Ways this could work:
I think I actually planned this out at the last Rally, so I’ll look at my notes.
But mainly this is about committing to the whispering.
My commitment.
To whisper happily. To fill up on love.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted Bobble Whatzits! And didn’t get any. But I did find out what they’re called: placecard holders. So now I can reformulate that ask.
I also wanted a tiny designated notebook for Today I experienced, and I have one. It’s pink.
Then there was a list of things I wanted for the Playground. Zero progress there. My sense is that I need to talk more about what these items mean and put out a clear request. Will try that next week.
Then I wanted rituals for Morning Begins At Night. Still working on this one.
And I wanted love stories for the Great Ducking Out, and didn’t get any. But Shiva Nata gave me the best idea ever for how to go about doing this, so that’s cool.
Interesting. In my head I had already decided that last week’s asks were all flops and needed to be re-asked. But actually there was quite a lot of progress. Yay, VPAs!
Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.
Things that are welcome! Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
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 #161: I don’t actually know how to whistle
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.
Once more I am in denial. This whole wait-now-it’s-September bit has thrown me for a loop.
Excuse me while I stick my fingers in my ears and sing lalalalala.
Or as Lisa does it, lalalalala must go eat pancakes.
Anyway, this week! It happened. How was it?
The hard stuff
Oh, hormones.
Tantrums and raging and hating everything.
Charming.
Also, related: extreme hypersensitivity to the smell of smoke.
Which normally wouldn’t be a big deal since I don’t know anyone who smokes. But apparently this week was Everyone-in-Portland-Smoke-Like-A-Fiend Week and no one told me.
Sore shoulder.
And I keep forgetting about it and making it worse.
Rushed. The Grumblethrum Collective are not happy.
All my time monsters were extra loud.
And the Grumblethrum Collective had all sorts of things to say about their perceptions of lack and of everything Being Squozed. Their word choice.
But seriously, time is flying. And the transitions are bumpy.
I always forget that Oregon does this thing where it goes from summer to fall with zero intermediary anything.
One night you’re trying to sleep while glued to the fan, the next night you’re piling on the blankets and wondering where the flannel sheets went.
One morning you’re wandering around the light-filled house in your underwear, the next morning it’s hoodies and slippers in the dark.
I used to think that it was just this weird blip on my part. A lack of mindfulness. Temporary amnesia. But it’s not. Things just switch up really, really, really fast.
The truth is, I adore autumn. And this summer has been amazing. No regrets.
But something about the switch triggered my It’s All Happening Too Fast stuff, and there was a mini-freakout there too.
Also there are only six days until the Shiva Nata training and then it’s already Rally (Rally!) and then it’s practically October.
ARGH.
Just argh. So many times argh.
Sometimes I just don’t like anyone.
This is also hormonal and it will pass. But it still sucks.
Being misunderstood. Or perceiving that I have been misunderstood.
I do not like this.
The good stuff
An actual weekend! For meeeee!
And a lovely one.
With merby and derby and lots of napping.
Plus partner yoga-ing with Danielle.
Delicious cart food and also Captured By Porches.
My shopkeeper’s hat.
It really is a great hat.
Plus now it has a story. Everything’s better with a story.
The Toozday Shiva Nata class.
An amazing group of people.
Brilliant practice. It was fantastic.
And the epiphanies have been flying!
Hooray and a thousand times again hooray for the craziness that is Shiva Nata.
Big and wonderful changes at the Playground.
We’re redoing lots of things.
Moving stuff around. Reorganizing.
It’s all very exciting.
Clean house.
It’s clean. I feel good!
Happy Hoppy House.
Whisper-Brunch!
Can’t give details yet because it’s still being whispered, but I am in love — madly — with this new thing I’ll be teaching. Soon, I promise.
Many sweet and wonderful moments in which everything is actually pretty great.
Sometimes I forget about these but there were actually lots of them this week.
Body is happy.
Other than the shoulder.
But happy, still.
Thank you, body.
And … playing live at the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
This week’s band is a local one:
Always Whistle First
They’re doing shows all over the place. Check them out if you get a chance. Although I heard it’s actually just one guy.
Announcement time!
- I wanted to remind you: Rally prices have to go up in 2012. Which is weirdly soon. And those Rallies are already filling up pretty quickly. So take a look at the SCHEDULE for this new year and make a Gwish about when/how.
- The Shiva Nata iPhone app! Have you tried it? If you don’t have an iThingy (Chuck‘s word?), hang out in pubs until you meet someone who does! Then borrow their phone for five minutes each day. 🙂
- The monster manual & coloring book will be required reading for a number of my courses next year. 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 — you can join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.
Of course the answer is always HAT!
So I was in Ashland last week.
And there was a hat store.
And the rule of Havi states that there is no such thing as passing a hat store and not going inside to try on all the hats. And then to acquire hats! Or a hat. Because HATS!
If Wile E. Coyote needed to trick me for whatever nefarious purposes, he would totally use an Acme hat shop.
With a crooked wooden sign: Ye Olde Acme Hat Shoppe. Meep, meep!
Anyway, there it was.
And there I was.
The hat was of the floppy sunhat variety. In the most outrageous, preposterous, crazed print possible. Somehow extra floppy. And fabulous. I had to have it.
But I didn’t know why.
Edit! Just realized: not last week! And now I have to pause (paws!) to have a fit, because that was two weeks ago and how did that even happen and why is time moving so quickly right now?
Until Toozday.
Two days ago I wrote this post asking for suggestions on how to turn up the visibility/volume on the Toy Shop at the Playground. How to remind people that they can buy stuff at the end of class.
And you guys gave me a ton of thoughtful suggestions, and I was feeling appreciative (yay for support!) and also increasingly unsettled about how complicated/ineffective my attempts to describe something can be.
So I was going to just take a break from thinking about it and let the perfect, simple solution emerge when Gaye (@itsapractice on Twitter) suggested a shopkeeper hat.
A hat! A shopkeeper hat.
Which is perfect because OHMYGOD LOOK I HAVE THIS HAT!
Well, I have many hats.
And I don’t mean that in a blippety-blah “I wear many hats” metaphorical sort of way. Real hats.
Between a) my inability to avoid hat stores, and b) having a Costumery full of hat goodness at the Playground, there are hats. They’re around.
But this hat. It’s so….
Hmm. BOLD was the word Rebecca used. Which I love because it’s so much more diplomatic than say, hideous. Or shocking. I think Cairene called it “dashing”.
This hat is pretty unapologetic about being a hat, if you know what I mean.
Really, its personality is so much bigger than mine that I may also be slightly afraid of it. But I appreciate the way it shouts to the world — in a very unusual accent — Hallllooooooooo! I am a Hat!
Which makes it perfect for my purposes. Shopkeeper! Hat!
So I tested it that very night.
But first I have to tell you more things about why this is so perfect.
- Wearing the shopkeeper’s hat means using costumes to solve problems. Which is already my favorite thing ever and something I do all the time.
- And once you’re wearing a costume, it’s all about playing. Playing is my thing! Did I mention that I run a Playground?
- In fact, play — along with groundedness, sovereignty, safety, freedom, delight and possibility — is one of the humming magical qualities at the core of Playground culture.
- So putting on a silly hat and making an announcement about when I’ll be wearing the silly hat is totally congruent with how I already work. Not an interruption. A flowing continuation.
- I already have a metaphor mouse thing about hats! Not a metaphor. It’s an acronym. But metaphor mouse gave it to me.
- A HAT is what I call a “sales page”. Because saying “sales page” makes me want to throw up. HAT stands for Havi’s Announcing a Thing.
- And then I write a HAT and decorate (instead of edit) the HAT, and that’s how I write sales pages even though I hate sales pages. Because they’re HATs!
- So this is just a physical version. I announce that the Toy Shop is open by putting on the silly hat. It’s like a real-life-performance version of the online thing.
- When I’m in costume, I can do anything. Like record a video of Flip-Its.
- But it’s not weird to get into costume, because we end each day at Rally (Rally!) with the evening Chicken. And a lot of us are already in costume for Chickening. So then I just tell people that I’m adding the hat.
- One of my superpowers is that I look good in any hat. Any. Hat. At. All. It’s probably my best superpower.
- I tend to thank my paternal grandmother for this one. She was born in Hungary, a good place for getting those dangerous “no, seriously watch out so you don’t slice yourself” cheekbones, which definitely help with extravagant hat-wearing.
- But my father also pulls off looking good in all hats, and he didn’t get the cheekbones, so who knows. It’s magic.
Also, as mentioned, I have the perfect hat for this!
So I tested the shopkeeper’s hat.
At the beginning of our Shiva Nata class on Toozday, I introduced everyone to the fabulous hat. They were really sweet and hardly laughed at all.
I asked them to remind me to put it on at the end of class, because wearing it means the Toy Shop is open for business. Wink!
Then we sang a sea shantey and did Shiva Nata to sea shanties while flailing about like madmen.
We also learned about epiphanies and discovered some absolutely fascinating patterns.
There was giggling. There were snacks. There were butt monsters. There were bubbles. It was awesome.
And at the end, I put on my Shopkeepers Hat and people took pictures (guys — send me the pictures!) and there was much rejoicing.
Also lots of people happily bought wonderful sparkly things from the Toy Shop. Like stone skipping card decks and Possibility Spray. So it totally worked. Yay.
Here’s what I’ve learned.
No matter what the question, the answer (for me) is always TRY A HAT.
And no matter how challenging it is for me to explain what I want or how I want it, if I remember to approach things with silliness, lightheartedness and play, the solution is there.
Basically, hats.
Or whatever your version of hats happens to be.
It’s always going to be better if I access the superpowers I already have instead of trying to Figure Out A System.
And the thing I need is probably already there. I’m probably tripping over it as we speak. And this is good.
Play! And comment zen for the communal comment blanket fort room.
What I would like: HATS!
Describe a hat, name a hat, wear a hat, invent a hat, pretend to give me a hat, pile hats on top of other hats. It’s a hat party!
Also, yays for Perfect Simple Solutions showing up.
What I would rather not have today: advice, analysis.
Thank you! And so much appreciation for all of your help this week. xox
Help me undo a spell. In a toy shop!
Alright my darlings.
Here’s the situation.
At the Playground, we have a Toy Shop.
The Toy Shop is beautiful and sparkly and everyone loves it. Everyone.
The Toy Shop is full of toys. And things that aren’t toys. All of which are for sale.
For example…
For example, we have:
Playground mugs.
And sets of gorgeous cards for stone skipping.
Lamps. Yoga blocks. Postcards. Notebooks. Jewelry. Wearable spirographs.
Butt-monsters and Pouncers and Yowls and other adorable creatures.
It has been scientifically proven that if you are feeling sad and you touch the butt of one of our butt-monsters, you will immediately feel better.
Magic wands. Bottles of Playground spray. Heidi’s potions for mixed-up emotions.
Pirate monkey meditation cushions.
And so many other special things.
Except.
Except for some reason it is still not entirely apparent that the Toy Shop is a store. Where you can buy things.
Invariably someone will ask me on the last day of Rally if there is any way at all that they can purchase a Playground mug to take home.
So I say: Uh yeah, they’re in the Toy Shop. With price tags on them!
This person is then delighted and goes home to drink tea.
Or if I mention at the end of a class that the things in the Toy Shop are for sale, everyone goes Ohboyohboy zooomygaaaaaaaaawwwd really? Yay!
And then they buy toys from the Toy Shop and they are happy.
So I’m looking at this. Here’s what I’ve got so far.
1. The name.
Unsurprisingly, the Toy Shop got its name from metaphor mouse.
And my definition of toys is probably wider than most people’s.
Maybe if we’d called is something boring like “The Gift Shop” or “The Store” or “The Souvenir Stand” or “The Place Where You Can Buy Stuff”, we wouldn’t be dealing with this.
But I like the name. For me, toy shop contains [+glee] [+excitement] [+childlike wonder] [+possibility] [+magic] [+anticipation] [+happiness].
But maybe it needs a subtitle for the sign? Okay!
2. So we could add onto the name…
Like:
The Toy Shop. How you can take the Playground home with you.
Or:
The Toy Shop. Hey, this stuff is actually for sale.
Kidding with that last one. But only slightly.
3. Speaking of signs…
What would a useful sign say?
We already have a sign above the door that says it’s the Toy Shop.
And we have a small framed sign inside the Toy Shop that says something like this:
How to get stuff from the Toy Shop! Talk to Havi after class.
Except it’s pretty small. Maybe too small? And the Toy Shop is pretty overwhelming and sparkly and packed with goodness, so maybe people don’t notice the sign?
And there is also a sign that explains that we take cash, checks or we can set up payment by Paypal.
But maybe we need different signs or bigger signs or different wording.
4. Price tags.
Much of the stuff in the Toy Shop is price-tagged.
But some things (like the pouncers or the butt-monsters) don’t really tag easily.
We do have giant chalkboard signs that say how much those cost. But still.
5. Displays.
Maybe more displays. Or posters?
Or pieces of information?
Hi. I am a pouncer. I look like this. I am cool because I pounce on things. Also you can hide secret notes in my mouth. This is how much it costs to take me home.
6. Or displays in other parts of the Playground.
Maybe a shelf at the entrance to the Playground or by the sign-in desk.
We could feature different neat things and have a little sign that says, Hey, I am for sale. At the Toy Shop!
7. In the soft.
We know — of course — that 99.9% of biggification is really about destuckification.
So that means I need to look at my stuff.
Are there places of discomfort? Parts of me (fuzzball monsters or sad, scared selves) that do not feel safe having stuff for sale?
Where is my resistance? What does it have to say? What do I know about it?
And then I can practice destuckifying. Using things like how now is not then or talking to slightly future me.
8. Undoing the spell.
Maybe me-from-then cast an accidental spell on the Toy Shop. Keeping it invisible or small or quiet in an effort to try and keep me safe.
It is my job to undo that spell.
And you can help.
How you can help!
First, what I don’t want.
I don’t need help in the soft. I can work on that myself using Shiva Nata and all the other destuckification techniques at my disposal.
And I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed or given advice about how to work on my stuff. I’m good.
And then what I do want.
What I’m interested in is steps in the hard.
Specifically, suggestions for signs. And things to say on them. And subtitles for the store.
Other ways to make it more clear and obvious that the Toy Shop contains things that someone could buy, if that person were so inclined, and that this is lovely and exciting.
How do we make it clear that the Toy Shop is, in fact, a Toy Shop? While still staying congruent with the bigger Playground culture of play, light-heartedness, safety, amnesty, permission and spaciousness?
I want reassurance (one day the Toy Shop will be all the magical things it can be), and rejoicing (for all the work I have already put into making the Toy Shop a beautiful, peaceful, restful, loving space).
And I want snacks for my iguana pen, because I have a giant iguana that needs some love, and it’s feeling a little anxious that I’m spending time with the Toy Shop instead of talking to it today.
So iguana snacks are appreciated. You can just toss them into the pen. Thank you!