What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
What's in the gallery?
We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.
We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**
* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.
** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.
Very Personal Ads #111: Into the pot it goes
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!
Usually it takes me a while to come up with my Very Personal Ads for the week.
This time I have so many that it might as well be a straight-out Gwish List. Gwish!
A Gwish = part-goal, part-wish — but better!
Thing 1: Hawaii?
Here’s what I want:
Remember two weeks ago at Rally (Rally!) when my project told me I had to take it to Hawaii?
So I want to find a mysterious magical way for that to happen. And I want it to be a quiet secret project.
And now that my four-day vacation to southern Oregon got completely eaten up with a work emergency, I’m really, really, really wanting a proper holiday even more.
Ways this could work:
I already have the bathing suit. What else could I possibly need? Oh, right.
Time, money and a plan. The three things that I have the most complicated stressful relationship with…
Okay. So I think I’m going to have to OOD it.
And do some serious monster-negotiating, possibly with the help of the coloring book and Slightly Future Me.
My commitment.
I’m putting it here.
Writing this, I realize that the real wish is not even so much about Hawaii-ing as it is about being able to stay receptive to the idea that this could happen.
To remember that I don’t have to figure out the how of it yet.
And to give myself permission to want the wanting.
So for now I’m putting that into the pot, and adding spices.
Thing 2: a really good strapless bra
Here’s what I want:
I may have also already purchased a dress for Hawaii. Despite having absolutely no plan about the how or why of this trip that is not yet a trip. It’s a symbol.
Also: in for a penny, etc etc.
Im kvar az kvar. Wenn schon denn schon.
The point is, I need a really good strapless bra. One that does the job and keeps me inside of my strapless dress rather than outside of it. Except that I haven’t had to deal with that kind of dress in a good fifteen years.
Do they even make something that isn’t all underwire pain and hurt-ey? Have there been drastic and fabulous breakthroughs in strapless technology that I don’t know about?
That would be nice!
Ways this could work:
Well, I’m asking here.
And I can ask at the Kitchen Table.
I don’t really have girly friends but I will put the word out just in case. Maybe one of my neighbors? Or Dana!
My commitment.
To find out. To imagine that maybe the just-right thing exists. To remember the idea of the “perfect, simple solution”, as Hiro would say.
Thing 3: The Crossing!
Here’s what I want:
My quiet and beautiful almost-ready project from the last Rally (Rally!) is ready to be seen. By a few people. Quietly.
So I want a way to whisper-brunch it into the world, in the most whispering way possible.
Without that seeming obnoxious. And without it being invisible.
Just a loving, tiny, focused “here I am” that is both present and quiet. In a simple, clean, clear way.
Ways this could work:
I’ve talked this over with slightly future me and she had some remarkably good ideas. Will keep talking.
My commitment.
To find out what I need and what my project needs.
To help it feel safe, welcome and appreciated.
Thing 4: Finding the good
Here’s what I want:
Sometimes I’m so entrenched in a situation that I can’t figure out what’s good about it, because all I can see is the hard parts.
Without in any way ignoring the hard or diminishing the legitimate feelings that I have related to being in a difficult situation, I’d like to be able to also find the good.
I know that certain aspects of this experience are really useful and important, and that’s what I want to connect with.
Ways this could work:
Let’s see. I can hold an internal council.
Or consult my Board of Surprisers from my Kitchen Table program.
Or maybe the good will just reveal itself and I will say aha there you are!
My commitment.
To remember that there is always more good than I think.
Thing 5: The Great Ducking Out!
Here’s what I want:
We’ve finally got the page up for the 2nd Annual Great Ducking Out.
This is where we yell Run Awaaaaaay!. We escape the madness that is American Thanksgiving by hanging out at the Playground and eating delicious food and being silly and destuckifying.
I want help spreading the word, and I want a bunch of lovely people to sign up and join us.
There is a Rally version which is a whole day longer than a regular Rally.
And there is an afternoon version where you join us for the day of American Thanksgiving — we do some Shiva Nata, we play and then there’s a lovely indoor picnic!
Ways this could work:
I can give you guys the link. Here it is! http://TheFluentSelf.com/ducking
Maybe people who came last year can share little stories about how great it was. That would be excellent!
Maybe people who have been to other Rallies and Playground things can spread the word. I don’t know.
My commitment.
To remember how much fun this was and how it was the best best best non-Thanksgiving ever.
Thing 4: Celebration and enthusiasm for the Shiva Nata iPhone app
Here’s what I want:
The Shiva Nata app — Pocket Shiva Nata — it’s here! Hooray!
I want more people to know about this, more loving reviews in the app store, more confetti, more general rejoicing!
Ways this could work:
Here’s the post I wrote over at the Shiva Nata blog about the app and what it’s like.
And where we talk confetti. Confetti!
My commitment.
To fill up on love. To spread love. To throw my own confetti.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted a breadbox and got some good ideas/suggestions that I am considering.
Then there was the massage treatments I wasn’t setting up. Letting the First Mate do that was brilliant. On the calendar!
Then I wanted to go on tour with Guns N Rollers to their bout in Medford, and it happened! I did a mini-warm-up for them too, and brought Play spray from the Playground, and it was super fun. And they won!
I asked for fun with Toozday’s Shiva Nata class at the Playground and it was very fun.
And I wanted Rallions for the 2012 Rallies. Which I still want. But it definitely worked because now there are Rallions for January, February, May and June! Yay.
And just in case you want the Rally dates for next year, they’re right here.
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 #159: Colonel Gustard in the living room!
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.
So I’m in Medford, Oregon for today’s chicken. Well, for tomorrow night’s roller derby bout, but also for today’s chicken.
And this week was so outrageously impossibly full that I cannot even comprehend that today is really Friday.
As if Friday’s all excited about being here and going, hey it’s meeee!, and I’m too baffled to figure out what’s going on. Anyway. Let’s do this!
The hard stuff
The disappearing weekend.
Last weekend was completely eaten up by commitments. It just disappeared.
By AWESOME commitments that I happily chose to commit to (and I’d make the same choices again), to be clear. But still totally and thoroughly exhausting.
It made the start of the week a little sleepy, but there wasn’t time to be sleepy because I had to fit seventeen billion things in before this mini-vacation-that-is-not-actually-a-vacation.
Busy? Busy.
So unfairly ridiculously head-hurtingly busy.
I was run off my feet this week.
My friend is sad.
And I wish I could magically make things better for her but I can’t. All I can do is love her.
Scary and possibly annoying phone call of doom.
That I haven’t made yet.
And it’s super stressing me out.
Other people’s projections.
When people decide a thing about you and this thing is not true and then they put it on you.
In Hebrew you say that they clothe you with it. And that’s how it’s been feeling.
I’m much better at removing these layers of Other People’s Crap than I used to be. But you know what? I’m not really enjoying it at the moment.
Problematic interactions in a variety of forms.
Something in the air, probably. I’ll do some Shiva Nata on the patterns and see what my part is in all of this.
But in the meantime, there’s been unbelievable pressure, bizarre things that seem to be attempts at manipulation and power plays, plus lots of miscommunication and blame.
So that’s no fun. And it’s really hard for everyone involved. Not you guys, don’t worry.
I am trying to assume misunderstanding, because that’s usually what problematic interactions turn out to be.
And I’m going to find out what I can do to re-establish expectations and set firm, loving, beautiful, strong, healthy, powerful, compassionate boundaries in this situation and in any other one that comes up.
Missing my rituals.
Because of the crazed week of busy, I wasn’t at the Frolicsome Bar (what we call the Facebook-ing) or at my local (Twitter) very much.
I did lots of reading at the forum boards in my Kitchen Table program but I didn’t get to play as much as I usually do, so that was sad too.
The good stuff
The extremely amazing weekend of roller derby heaven.
The Boston Massacre bravely came out here and got crushed, as predicted in the bible as predicted in last week’s Friday Chicken. They had a good attitude about it and were generally adorable.
Our B-team (the Axles of Annihilation) played Seattle’s B-Team (Reign of Terror), and that was supposed to be a close match but it wasn’t. Final score? The Rose City took it 229-67. And yes, some of my shivanauts were skating out there and they looked dangerous. Love it!
And Sunday there was more derby and then the team I sponsor had their end-of-the-year picnic, which was very fun.
Also, they gave me the sweetest thank-you-speech about how my work with them and the warm-ups and the Shiva Nata has helped them get more coordinated, be in their bodies, feel confident and centered and kick ass.
Guess what now lives at the Playground?
A signed and framed photograph of the team. Right next to last year’s photo.
Next time you come to a Rally (Rally!), I will show you!
Recognition. Just in general
I’ve been writing about my complicated relationship with acknowledgment, and then — out of nowhere — there was this totally sweet piece of it.
Thank you.
Toozday’s Shiva Nata class at the Playground.
So hilarious. So much fun!
Ahahahaaa I’m on holiday.
Time on the road. Time with my wonderful uncle Svevo. Time eating cheese. Time singing sea shanties. Time for me.
In beautiful southern Oregon.
I’m one of 30 things. One of many, many things. And also 30 of them.
It still counts if I totally bullied him into it. The witty, charming and generally marvelous @tjbeitelman (who has also Rallied at Rally) has put me on his list of 30 things.
I like everything he writes.
I like this
Remember when I wrote about cover stories? So Megan sent me this link to this slide in Utrecht. So great!
The Great Ducking Out, take two. It’s live!
I don’t know if you guys remember this but last year I decided (thanks to the commenter mice) that I was sick of dreading American Thanksgiving and trying desperately to avoid it like I do every year.
So instead I threw a special day called The Great Ducking Out. A day of playing at the Playground and eating yummy food and being silly.
And around it I also made a special Ducking Out Rally, for spending the whole week working on creative projects or just playing.
We had thirteen lovely, lovely, lovely people at our picnic feast and it was the best thing ever. Pie!
So we’re doing it again, and the page is live and I’m almost ready to announce it. Although we already have five people coming, according to the First Mate who knows about these things.
Anyway, you can peek here and rejoice with me: http://FluentSelf.com/ducking
Guess what else? Guess what?
The Shiva Nata iPhone app is finally live! This is a giant yay!
We have been excited about this for oh god so many months and now it’s finally here. HOORAY!
It’s called Pocket Shiva Nata and it just now came out, and please please please go and leave sweet and loving reviews for us!
Celebration!
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 comes courtesy of @senseijames, who has fake-band-named many a fake-band with us.
Punk Rock Glitter
It’s a band AND a thing to throw AND a thing to do. Some times I glitter punk rock too. Though you know what’s weird about them? It’s actually just one guy.
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.
Notes from the road.
- On Sunday, I made a Gwish (not really a goal but more than a wish) to be on the road. On a very tiny tour. And here I am. Thank you, world of moving parts that came together so I could do this.
- About five minutes away from my uncle’s land, you get hit by this wave of peacefulness.
- I used to think it was all those giant trees.
- But it’s more this: entering my uncle’s world, where everything is steadier, gentler, deeper.
- Hit by a wave of peacefulness? Not really the word because there is no force involved. You are not required to take part in the peaceful. It’s just there. Breathe it in if you like. Or not.
- I would not describe myself as a dog person. But as the car winds its way up the driveway through the trees, and Bobby and Gus make themselves known (Bobby barreling out in full force and Gus observing), I am very much a dog person.
- They used to be a bit suspicious but lately they are always excited to see me. It is a lovely thing to be the object of great rejoicing and enthusiastic welcoming.
- I like the way my uncle doesn’t turn on a light until the outside light has faded completely and we’re in darkness.
- Gus followed me into the bedroom to thump his tail several times next to the bed.
- Next thing I knew it was morning and I could see him from bed, sprawled outside on the deck, looking at me with one eye.
- There’s this awesome sign at the Playground that one of the Rallions (Carey? Probably?) made.
- It’s taped to the official boring capacity sign that lies about how many people the Playground can hold, and it says “But the MAYHEM CAPACITY is much higher!” This is a very true statement.
- In the world that my uncle inhabits, the capacity for delight, wonder, silliness, calm and spaciousness are so significantly higher than anywhere else I’ve ever been that it kind of blows me away each time I encounter it.
- I belong in this world.
- This is a very new kind of feeling for me. It is not what I know. Belonging? What does that even mean? But yes.
- My uncle and I picked blackberries and plums from the garden. He ground some teff flour. Tea was made with various forest-ey things that we found.
- It’s funny because this road trip tour thing is actually for a business purpose and a roller derby purpose, but it’s starting off so unbelievably relaxed and quiet.
- Yesterday at this time I was on a bus in Portland. There was an adorable flirtation happening between two twenty-somethings They agreed to meet up at the cafe where one of them hangs out, sometime in the unspecified future. But you could tell it would be soon.
- Then the bus driver announced that she was a minute and twenty seconds early to the stop and was going to run into the store and pick up some things.
- I stayed attuned to the bus-ness of the bus. I always talk to the bus when I’m on the bus. Secretly.
- And now I am attuned to myself so that I can attune to the tree-ness of the trees and the quietness of the quiet and the breakfast-ness of the breakfast.
- Then off to the rest of the tour. Notes for the Book of Me. Shivanauttery and roller derby and lots of happy yelling.
That’s it. Play time.
Deposit a note from your own road (or not a road) if you like.
Or maybe you have a bus story.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We make room for everyone else to have their own experience, so we don’t tell each other what to do or how to be or how to feel. Spaciousness, permission, safety, amnesty, etc.
Jessica Rabbit kisses to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.
Lost in a Tragic Ice Cream Incident!
There’s this thing and I have no idea what it’s called, but it goes kind of like this.
There’s this completely horrid and dislike-able character on television or in a movie. The mean boss. The snobby girl. The vindictive teacher. The bully.
But then you find out that there’s a reason for their horribleness. A reason that makes them seem vulnerable because of the deep and awful loss they’ve experienced.
And once that reason is known, you start to find out that They’re Really Not So Bad.
I’m positive there is already a name for this phenomenon, and if someone has already found it on tvtropes.org, please tell me!
Lost in a tragic _____________ incident.
The awful boss was being so unreasonable about the deadline, but then it turned out that her entire family had perished in a tragic deadline incident.
The sadistic sergeant who sticks to the rules so strictly — he’s only been that way since his pet koala died in a tragic rulebook incident.
The boyfriend who refuses to talk about his feelings or even admit he has them, but then it all kind of makes sense once you discover that his brother was actually defenestrated in a tragic communicating incident.
It happens.
We all have our reasons.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember but we do.
But there’s another point here too.
When I write blog posts or teach a class or do whatever it is I do at Rally (Rally!), I always want people to know they can change the language.
If I’m referencing sovereignty and that’s not your word, re-work it.
If I’m talking about superpowers but superpowers are uncomfortable for you, re-think them.
It’s your experience. You get to have your own relationship with it.
And there are two ways to work with a word that doesn’t speak to you. You can rewrite the word (invent!) or you can rewrite the definition (translate!).
Either way, you’ll probably want to do some unpacking.
Unpacking is a metaphor, of course.
It just means figuring out what your associations are with a particular word or concept, both positive and negative.
Let’s see… I was in this yoga class and the teacher kept talking about SUPPORT, and I noticed that I started feeling uncomfortable. What qualities, aspects or attributes of support live inside of my personal definition of this word?
Support has — for me — some good things, like:
[+safety] [+sturdiness] [+held] [+can’t hurt myself because I am cared for]
But I also have some not good associations:
[+having to depend on others] [+vulnerability] [+stuck]
Once you know what’s in there, you have choices.
You can decide to rewrite your definition:
From now on, I choose to interpret support to mean that I have internal and external resources which hold me up and keep me grounded and safe.
Support includes my own strengths, and also maybe a community of people that I can rely on.
It can also mean things like the earth, the floor, oxygen — anything that physically helps me move, walk, breathe and be.
Or you can use the metaphor mouse technique to find a new story or a new name for it.
I still don’t love support, but I adore the idea of a hammock. So from now on, whenever she says SUPPORT, I’m going to whisper HAMMOCK to myself, and feel the feeling of the hammock.
Either of these is much better than being in resistance.
It’s no fun thinking to yourself: Aaaargh support is so stupid!
It’s no fun being the person secretly grieving. How can they talk about support when I lost everything I loved in a tragic supporting incident! I’m being a little silly here but sometimes that’s really how it feels.
Sometimes we have pain around words and we don’t even know it.
So if a word doesn’t resonate with you, there isn’t anything wrong with you.
And there isn’t anything wrong with the word.
It just meant that it’s time to give yourself a new word or a new definition. Or both.
Unless, of course, you lost your ability to do that in a tragic dictionary incident.
Back to the ice cream.
Last night I was teaching Shiva Nata at the Playground, and we were coming up with words for the different positions.
The horizontals were Ice Cream, Panda, Sandbox and Barnacle. The verticals were Scrumptious, Cloud, Clam and Orange. It was highly entertaining.
It’s a cloud, shaped like a panda, in a sandbox, eating orange ice cream. Scrumptious panda has barnacle clams? The oranges are cloudy!
But even with silly, ridiculous play-words, you still never know what people’s personal baggage is. Who knows what tragic ice cream panda incidents live in their past?
Everyone has their stuff.
You don’t know what their associations are with these things. And even though it’s unlikely that they suffered awful losses in a tragic orange scrumbox clam-cloud incident, you never what what’s going on for them.
So it’s always, always, always useful to remind people that they have the power to interact consciously with language.
And if they don’t like a word, they can investigate their relationship with that word.
Or not. But change the word or rewrite it or replace it.
Once you remember that you have the power to do that with a word, you have the power to do it with anything.
Play! And comment zen for the giant blanket fort playroom.
If you want to invent ridiculous and imaginary possible tragic incident backstories with me, you are welcome to.
If you want to invent a new name for that particular trope, that works too.
If you want to rewrite words or investigate definitions or do some metaphor mousing, go for it!
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff and recognize that it’s ours.
We take care of ourselves and each other by making space for people to have their own experience and not giving unsolicited advice or telling people how to feel. That’s all.
Ice cream and pandas for everyone! Unless you don’t like either of those, in which case you don’t have to have one. I’m sure we have something else in the treasure box. What would you like instead?
The Cover Story.
One of my favorite things in the world is finding out what people are using as a cover story for coming to Rally (Rally!).
Because when you’re coming to Rally, you don’t really know what it is, right? Even if you’ve done it before.
I mean, I’ve been at Rally (note my avoidance of the verb) twelve times now and I’m still not sure what it is.
That’s because Rally is magical and weird and surprising. And hard to explain.
All you know is this.
When you’re on your way to Rally, all you know is that you’re off on a crazy-fabulous adventure and that things will be different and sparkly when you return. It will be a sort of voyage.
And there will be pretzel sticks in wine glasses. And a hammock in a Refueling Station!
This makes it difficult to explain to the people in your life who casually (or very seriously, in some cases) wonder why you’re going to be AWOL. Or why you’re journeying off to Portland for a few days. What are you doing?!
And thus the cover story.
Oh, I’m going to………
- a conference
- a yoga thing
- a business thing
- a creative thing
- a craft-ey thing
- a retreat thing
- a secret thing
- a coordination training thing
- just vacation, you know, nothing special
- I’m on silent retreeeeeaaat!
And then you change the subject super-fast! —-> “How are you doing? What are you up to? How’s your whatzit? Really? Oh, wow.”
Most popular cover stories.
I think “oh it’s a conference” and then running away before people can ask what the conference is about.
That’s probably most people’s favorite.
Followed by pretending you’re going to be doing something that sounds fun-for-you, but a thing the other person would find fairly uninteresting.
“It’s a convention for people who do that really specific kind of knitting I was telling you about….”
“It’s a conference about the history of birdfeeders in North America…”
“It has to do with the internet, I’d tell you more but you know how it is…”
Or go with the real story…
Some people can totally get away with saying exactly what it is:
“So there’s this woman? I kind of sort of know her from online. No, not like that. She has a duck! Anyway, she runs a playground. Yes. It’s like preschool, but for grownups.
“And I’m going to go there and work on something — but I don’t know what it is yet — while eating potato chips. Also there’s a costume room.
“We’re going to flail around ridiculously and have epiphanies and then stuff will happen. At the end of it, I’ll have been insanely productive and everything in my life will be better. Anyway, whee! I’m going to Rally! “
The truth is a beautiful thing. It’s just that the truth — much like most epiphanies and big realizations — can sound sort of stupid or silly or insane when said out loud.
It loses its essence in translation.
Of course if you can make it work, go for it! But cover stories are still a useful thing to have in your pocket for certain people, situations or circumstances.
Why we need cover stories.
We all need some spaciousness when it comes to working on our stuff, being in a process, figuring out what projects really are.
Because a Rally (and everything we bring to it) is a form of a tiny, sweet thing.
So we protect it.
We keep it safe and make sure it’s supported. And we do this by giving it buffers. Hiding spaces and holding spaces. Room to breathe and grow.
A cover story is a form of buffer.
It’s a way to build space around the experience you haven’t had yet.
It’s almost like a safe room for the seed of the adventure that you are embarking on.
Who these stories are for.
For you. You get to have buffers and spaciousness too!
For the Rally and the experience itself. So that your experience of Rally can be its own thing, not weighed down by other people’s expectations, projections, judgments and desires.
For your projects, whatever they may be (and you do not need to have a project when you show up at Rally because it will find you while you’re there, I promise).
It’s a way of arranging a secret rendezvous to meet your projects without anyone knowing about your process while you’re still trying to figure it all out.
And also for the people who are asking. The stories are good for everyone.
More stuff to think about!
Sometimes people are just being polite.
Sometimes someone will ask you a question (“what do you do?”) and for them it’s this really simple, casual, I-need-something-to-say-to-fill-this-pause-of-awkwardness.
They don’t know that for you this question is related to big, deep existential pondering and that it can throw you into your stuff.
They’re just as relieved as you are to talk about something else.
So it’s absolutely okay to say something like this: “Oh I’m going to see some friends and work on an old project, thanks for asking! What are you up to?”
Sometimes people are just being distracter mice.
Sometimes when people ask you awkward questions, they’re really just trying to move attention from something they don’t want to talk about. I find this weirdly reassuring.
This is a great time to bring up a book you just read or a film you just saw, or stick to topics that you know they like.
Sometimes people just want reassurance.
If it’s people who are close to you, they really just want to know that you aren’t changing. That you will still love them when you come back from your crazy, mysterious voyage.
Sometimes a hug is a really good answer.
I’m doing something that’s important to me. I’ll tell you about it when I get back. I love you so much. HUG.
And not everything requires a response.
I cannot emphasize this enough. Even though it’s the thing that is hardest for me to remember.
Really and truly: Not everything requires a response.
The magic of the cover story.
Rally is, among other things, a place for creative play. For approaching things with curiosity, wonder and receptivity.
Coming up with a cover story requires that you step into this mindset of invention.
Which means you’re already accessing your Rally superpowers of creativity, possibility and play when you start coming up with stories that hide what you’re really doing.
You’re being inventive. You’re creating safe spaces for yourself. You’re approaching things in a way that is designed to give yourself support and spaciousness before you even get to the Playground.
So cover stories are like secret spy codewords. They’re full of play. They’re helping you arrive. And that’s important.
Play! And comment zen for the giant blanket fort.
If you have been on Rally or are coming to Rally or might come to Rally someday, and you have a cover story, I would love to know what it is.
Let’s invent ridiculous and/or totally believable fake back-stories! And throw confetti.
And if not for Rally, then for other things as well.
As always, we are all working on our stuff. We make room for other people to have their own experience, and we don’t tell each other how to feel, how to think or what to do. Unless they ask!
Kisses to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads…
postscript: The September Rally is sold out. November is filling up crazy fast. Schedule for new year on the Rally (Rally!) page.