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.
74 ways to push the reset button.
When things aren’t working, even the tiniest time-out = magic.
Yesterday things were very much not working, so I ended up making a list of the various ways available to me when I need to push the reset button.
Here it is.
Reset! Let’s see. You could…
- Take a shower.
- Go outside.
- Go for a walk.
- Walk backwards!
- Do something widdershins!
- Smell a flower…
- Take a nap.
- Hide under the blankets.
- Turn your closet into a temporary refueling station.
- Sing a song. Louder!
- Ask: how much of this fear/discomfort/pain belongs to me?
- Ask: how much of this fear/discomfort/pain is from now?
- Use a magical spray.
- Do a mudra.
- Use an acupressure technique (like EFT or TAT or any use of pressure points).
- Hum.
- Chant.
- Sing sea shanties and pretend you’re on a voyage.
- Roll on the floor hugging your knees.
- Yawn and yawn and yawns until you cry.
- Do an old Turkish lady stretch.
- Listen to one of your Emergency Calming The Hell Down recordings.
- Consult the Book of You.
- Talk to the monsters who say that you can’t stop.
- Let a negotiator talk to the fear that says things are never going to get better.
- Scribble with crayons or magic markers.
- Color with the monster coloring book (extra sneaky!).
- Ask slightly future you how she resolved this one.
- Use any of the grounding and centering techniques from Hiro‘s amazing Healing Internet Hangover course.
- Count backwards from 25.
- Strengthen your force field. Whoosh!
- Do simple Shiva Nata spirals.
- Run any Shiva Nata pattern or algorithm through your head. 3-2, 4-3, 1-4, 2-1!
- Find out why now is different from then.
- Use the alignment technique.
- Find out what is useful about being stuck right now.
- Invoke your superpowers — like Joseph.
- Write a Dr. Seuss rhyme about how much everything sucks.
- Yell TIME OUT!
- Take ten long deep breaths.
- Sama vritti pranayama is when the inhale and exhale are equal. Do that.
- Do ten silent screams (it helps to stop and take a breath or two between each one).
- Do the puppy paws. Pause. Paws!
- Be upside down.
- Find out what you’d tell the person you loved most if she/he was in your situation.
- Ask what brilliant support you’d give to a client who needed a reset button.
- Listen to a yoga nidra recording.
- Have a good cry for 15 minutes.
- Build a safe room in your mind.
- Build a safe room in your past.
- Run away! Just for now.
- Turn up the music and dance dance dance.
- Decide on a theme song.
- What Would Someone Fabulous Do?
- What Would The Wise And Compassionate Version Of You Do?
- Touch the floor.
- Do some stone skipping.
- Declare silent retreat!
- Take notes on what got you here so that you can change the pattern next time.
- Do something sweet for someone else.
- Blow bubbles!
- Whisper a secret to a tree.
- Make a gwish!
- Rub circles on the soles of your feet.
- Write magic words on the palms of your hands.
- Give yourself permission to be in the hard and in the stuck. Or to not want to be there.
- Put on a costume.
- Strike a pose.
- Talk about how much everything sucks but in a Groucho Marx voice. Or with your best Australian accent. Unless you’re Australian.
- Hop on one foot and be a bad-tempered one-legged pirate.
- One hand on your heart.
- Look for ten things that are blue.
- Name everything you see.
- Say I am here now.

Notes. And comment zen for today
As always, we invoke the “people vary” principle. This is my list of what might work for me.
Whatever doesn’t work for you can be ignored. Whatever *does* work for you can go straight into the Book of You.
It often helps to have your top three or four in mind (top of the toolbag!)
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We make room for people to have their own experience and that’s why we don’t tell each other what to do.
If you want to add other things that go on your personal list of ways to press the reset button, go for it.
Love to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.
What’s The Point.
Me: Hallloooo? Who doesn’t want to write this post? Is it the topic? Or is it that you don’t want me to write any posts?
Voice: What’s The Point.
Me: Oh, there you are, constantly-discouraged me.
Voice: Don’t call me that.
Me: What do you want to be called?
Voice: The Truth Forever And Ever!
Me: No, really. What do you want to be called that I might actually call you?
Voice: HUNGRY! FEED ME!
Me: Oh. Come on, distractor mouse. I understand if you don’t want to give a name. I still want to know who I’m dealing with.
Voice: What’s The Point.
What is true?
Me: Okay, WTP. What’s true about your position?
WTP: There is no damn point. Blah, blah, write a post. No one flipping cares. Why are you wasting your time? What’s the point.
Me: So if there’s no point and it doesn’t matter either way, it’s kind of interesting that you’re so invested in stopping me. If it doesn’t matter, what’s it to you if I write the post anyway? What’s your interest in this?
WTP: I love you. I want you to thrive. Writing posts is not thriving.
Me: Interesting. What is thriving to you? Tell me about thriving.
WTP: You should be doing what you need to do.
Me: And what’s that?
WTP: Building XXXXXXXXXXX. That’s where your passion is. Anything else takes away from it.
What is true?
Me: And you don’t see any connection between that and writing? Isn’t writing how I process things? And also: yesterday when I *was* working on XXXXXXXXXXX, didn’t you also have a lot of What’s-the-pointing to say about that?
WTP: What’s the point.
Me: What do you need? What would help you feel safe and supported?
WTP: I want you to be happy.
Me: Is that your mission?
WTP: Yes.
Supporting the mission.
Me: Well, I support that mission. And I want to help. I’m still not clear on how regularly saying What’s The Point helps with that mission.
WTP: Just trying to keep on track.
Me: Keep on track?
WTP: There’s a track.
Me: Here’s the interesting part, for me. In my experience, when you say What’s The Point, I get derailed. So then I’m NOT on track.
WTP: Interruption is important.
Interruption is important.
Me: Of course interruption is important. I agree with you. That’s what the post we were writing was about. About pushing the reset button. Taking time out. It’s just that there are different kinds of interruption, like…
WTP (interrupting): NO THERE IS NOT. WHAT’S THE POINT. WHAT’S THE POINT.
Me: You know at a Roller Derby bout how everything changes after a time-out?
WTP: Yeah. Everything is better.
Me: Yup. The girls get back into their force fields. They find their flow.
WTP: That’s also why it’s good to call the jam off even in a power jam situation if you’re getting stuck behind the pack, just to kind of reset things. Start fresh.
Scared.
Me: Exactly! So during that time out, it’s the job of the bench coach to help the skaters push the reset button. To help them get back out on the track and change things up. Do you think the coach calls a time out to say What’s The Point.
WTP: No.
Me: We know what happens when skaters go into What’s The Point mode.
WTP: Like at Regionals. It’s no good. You gotta keep trying! You gotta keep moving!
Me: Right. You take time out to give legitimacy to the frustration and pain, and then you refocus and try something new.
WTP: Totally!
Me: So how come you keep saying What’s The Point?
WTP: I’m so scared.
I can’t stop you.
Me: Oh! Tell me what you are scared about.
WTP: That you will love too much. You love your business too much. You love Shiva Nata too much. You love all of it too much. I want you to not care so much so you won’t get hurt.
Me: Oh. Oh, sweetheart. That is a hard burden to walk around with. All that worry.
WTP: What’s The Point. Worrying is stupid. I should stop worrying.
Me: If only it worked that way. I worry too. It’s okay. Worry is normal.
WTP: So you’re saying that I can’t stop you.
Me: If what you want is to help me remember to pause (paws!), then I would like that kind of stopping. An encouraging kind of stopping, though.
Kidding.
WTP: Like YOU GO GIRL!
Me: Uh, no.
WTP: Kidding. Kidding. I would never say that.
Me: Good.
WTP: What about something like Time Out, Please!
Me: Works for me!
And there were sandwiches for everyone.
And there were sandwiches for everyone.
Sandwiches!
When Very Personal Ads don’t work.
This week I’m marking one hundred consecutive weeks of my practice of writing Very Personal Ads.
And I’ve been thinking about all the beautiful wishes that have been wished for, and about everything that has happened as a part of this.
We can talk about some of those incredible Very Personal Ad stories at some point. But today I wanted to talk about those times when you ask for something and you don’t get it, because this is important.
First a hug!
There is nothing more frustrating than not getting what you want.
Oh, wait. Except getting up the courage to ask for it and then still not getting it. That’s even worse.
It’s an awful feeling. Vulnerable and lost.
This is the hug for all those times you have experienced felt the pain of unfulfilled wishes.
For all the various parts of you who have craved love, support and sustenance, and didn’t receive it when they needed it most. I am so sorry.
And after the hug, let’s talk about Very Personal Ads and how the whole thing works.
What a Very Personal Ad is.
A Very Personal Ad is about discovery.
It’s how you find out what your relationship is with the thing you want. And with the wanting.
That’s because it’s a destuckification practice.
And like any destuckification practice, Very Personal Ads are about conscious, loving, mindful self-inquiry. Playful self-investigation.
You’re looking for information. You’re trying to get clarity about what it is you are really and truly asking for.
You’re looking for the qualities and essence of the thing you want. And for new ways to interact with both the object of your desire and with desire itself.
You are collecting data about how you interact with the world and about what needs to happen for you to feel comfortable and safe connecting to the essence of the thing you want.
What a Very Personal Ad isn’t.
A magic fountain you throw pennies into. Suspicious beans that one might theoretically trade a cow for.
Of course, sometimes — even fairly often — outrageously and seemingly magical things happen as a result of writing Very Personal Ads.
They happen in part as a result of the new-found clarity and sense of purpose that come from investigating your relationship with the thing you want.
The problem with treating Very Personal Ads (or any other destuckification practice) as a form of external salvation, is that then we’re relinquishing responsibility. It’s like handing over your sovereignty.
If I give the tooth fairies and the fountains power over my happiness and well-being, I’m pretty much always going to end up disappointed.
But when I stay connected to myself and to the conscious, loving, curious, investigative approach, I will always learn something useful and vital about myself and how I operate. And something about faith as well.
An example of a Very Personal Ad not working.
“I want a million dollars! I want a new job. I want the perfect girl/boyfriend. I want ten new clients.”
It might work. It might not. It’s like the fountain thing. It couldn’t hurt. Toss the penny in if you want to.
But it’s not really a Very Personal Ad because there is no curiosity, no play, no experimentation, no mindfulness, no self-inquiry.
And how you would make that Very Personal Ad start working.
Let’s take the ask for the million dollars.
And put it through the filter of the conscious, loving, curious, mindful, playful destuckification appproach:
“Okay. I’m noticing that I just named a sum which scares me. I’m noticing that I can’t even say it out loud. Oh, and also this: when I think about large sums of money, I get this tightness in my throat. Almost like I can’t breathe.
So maybe what I’m asking for is to feel comfortable having — or even wanting — larger sums of money. And to have that comfort in my body too.
I’m also noticing a lot of internal rules about how things can come to me or that I have to work insanely hard for things and even then it’s not okay to get them.
It seems like this is about safety and trust. So one of my asks is to get better at bringing safety and trust into my life in relation to money and in general. And to brainstorm ways to get more comfortable with receiving.”
That is powerful stuff. And each week you can check in to see where you’re at, you can use what you have learned to edit and alter your request
The truth about Very Personal Ads.
As long as it’s a conscious practice, it can’t not work.
You get information about who you are and how you function. You connect to the essence of the wanting. For example:
How do I bring more safety, support and sovereignty into my life?
And then you try stuff. And you keep trying stuff.
You test your hypotheses. You do a spangly revue review.
After one hundred weeks of asking for three or four things a week, and several months of doing daily Very Personal Ads in my Hello, Day ritual, I can say that they always work.
Do I always get what I want? Of course not.
But I always get useful information that can lead me to what I want. Or to understanding how I’m getting in the way of what I want, and why I might be doing that.
And the hug again.
Every once in a while someone will say to me:
“I wrote a VPA for X but I didn’t get it so I stopped writing VPAs.”
And then I give them a hug.
Because that’s the only relevant response in that moment.
The moment of pain not the time to explain why. It’s not the time to respond to the content of their experience: just to the hurt.
It’s like someone you love saying to you: “I started looking at why my relationships are so painful but it’s a mystery so now I’m not going to love anyone again.”
You can’t really convince them to not give up on love. At least not immediately. All you can do is give them love.
So I know that a lot of what I have said here might not sink in right away. And if all you want to take from this is the hug, that’s fine by me.
The answer is usually somewhere in the ask.
And that’s why we keep asking.
But the asking is never prescriptive.
It’s always about wondering, discovering, finding out and being willing to be wrong about pretty much everything.

And comment zen for today.
The usual: we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. It takes time.
We let other people have their stuff, and we don’t tell each other what to do.
What I would love today:
Stories of how Very Personal Ads (ones you shared here or made silently in head/heart) resulted in you discovering something new or interesting about yourself or the thing you were asking for.
p.s. Should go without saying but of course Shiva Nata is the great destuckifying pattern-untangler of all times. Most of my VPAs have been helped by doing some shivanautical flailing in order to get the insight needed to change the patterns.
Very Personal Ads #100: are you out there?
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!
One hundred weeks in a row! I can’t believe we’ve made it this far.
Thank you to all the many, many people who have planted their gwishes here.
Thing 1: More Shiva Nata roller derby classes!
Here’s what I want:
I had such a blast doing a training and then some pre-bout warm-ups for Guns N Rollers this season. And seeing the results.
So we’ve been talking about me leading some agility, endurance and EXTREME coordination trainings (aka Shiva Nata is the bomb) for them this summer.
I’d also like to run some trainings for the all star team. And for the junior rosebuds.
See how my Giant Secret Gwish of working with the Timbers has planted unlikely seeds?
Ways this could work:
It just could.
Calendar conflicts could sort themselves out. Perfect simple solutions could emerge.
The excitement, power, enthusiasm and energy could just be there, and then things could whoosh into place instead of having to make things happen.
My commitment.
To keep flailing the flail, cheering my head off and offering support in whatever ways I can.
Also depositing here another super secret gwish: to involve some derby girls in my shivanautical dvd…
Thing 2: the just-right gym bag
Here’s what I want:
A convenient, lightweight, lovely gym bag that has a separate compartment for shoes.
And a place to put a water bottle.
Ideally something without big logos all over it.
Are you out there? I hope so.
Ways this could work:
I already asked at the local pub aka Twitter. And yeah, this looks kind of great except for the water bottle thing which is important because otherwise I forget my water bottle.
So. I’m asking you guys.
And I can also ask at the Frolicsome Bar (that’s what we call facebook to make it sound less depressing).
My commitment.
To be happy when we find each other. And to make do in a variety of creative ways until that happens.
Thing 3: movement on the Shiva Nata iPhone app
Here’s what I want:
The situation is this:
The Shiva Nata iPhone app is done but it’s caught up in one of Apple’s many departments and we can’t seem to get them to move on it.
This is getting to be completely absurd. Movement! Please!
Ways this could work:
I don’t know.
Just putting out the ask.
My commitment.
To keep dancing it up and being receptive to this working out in a variety of ways.
Thing 4: lots of walking
Here’s what I want:
I haven’t been walking nearly as much since Svevo left town.
It would be lovely to get back into the moving. See, it’s all about moving this week.
Ways this could work:
The roses could pull me in the right direction.
My commitment.
To wander and explore.
Thing 5: celebration and recognition for sticking with the Very Personal ads for one hundred weeks running
Here’s what I want:
Cheering, rejoicing, sparklepoints and exclamation points.
When I started this practice back in July 2009, I had no idea how amazing this weekly thing would end up becoming.
I had no way of imagining just how many people would end up using this space to make connections with each other, hook up in various collaborative ways and help each other out.
It’s part picnic, part book club, part support group, part ritual. And it’s beautiful.
And I have so much love for everyone who has taken part in this in any form (even if you think your wishes to yourself and don’t share them here).
So I’d like a celebration.
Ways this could work:
We could cheer and rejoice here. Or maybe you have stories of neat things that have happened thanks to the VPAs.
Or maybe people have other ideas about ways to celebrate as well.
My commitment.
To keep this up for another one hundred weeks!

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted implementation of ideas and that mostly happened.
Then I wanted to help someone out and didn’t know how. And this is an interesting one.
Let’s just say I did what I could do on that. Possibly also slightly beyond what I should have done, but I learned (re-learned?) a useful lesson about not shepherding, and letting people do what they need to do.
Next I wanted FOCUS, and while it took its sweet time getting here, when it finally showed up it was everything I’d hoped for and more.
The last piece was about un-obsessing an obsession, and — to be honest — I really didn’t think it would work. How do you un-obsess an obsession?!
But you know what? It happened. I am still actively engaged with this thing but it’s no longer taking over my consciousness. Thank you.

Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.
Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!
Stuff I’d rather not have:
The word “manifest”. To be told how I should be asking for things. To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given unsolicited advice.
Much love for your gwishes! So happy to have you doing this with me.
Friday Chicken #148: the bass player for Salvaged Wednesday is kind of hot
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.
It doesn’t really seem possible that Friday could be here. And yet here we are.
Or so it seems.
Okay!
The hard stuff
Disoriented.
Loving this shorter week we had here in the States but it seriously threw me off in so many different ways.
And somehow I ended up with a million appointments today even though I hate Friday appointments, and apparently I overbooked and cross-booked and generally flubbed it all up.
Gah. I’m exhausted just thinking about the rest of today.
Scary times.
Doing things that scare me, and it’s so unbelievably hard right now.
Trust and faith.
Rinse. Repeat.
My life is way less fun when Svevo is not around.
My uncle Svevo was with us for four days (yay!) but then he had to go home (boo!).
And when he isn’t around, I forget to do things like nap, take long walks and delight in being alive.
I mean, I don’t forget. It just becomes less of a priority. Realizing that always depresses the hell out of me.
Keeping my mouth shut.
When I don’t feel like it.
But it wouldn’t be smart to say what I’m actually thinking in this particular situation so I’m not going to say it. Might have to go yell it into a forest though.
This thing I love to do is on the wrong side of town.
So half my day gets eaten up with getting there and back.
But I can’t stopped because I am crazy-addicted. Change, etc.
Seemingly unrequited crush!
Sadmouse.
Wednesday.
Oh, Wednesday. On Wednesday I fell apart so hard it was ridiculous.
Hug to Wednesday-me. She had a really rough time of things. I was worried about her.
The good stuff
Svevo was here! Svevo was here!
For four whole days.
We went for walks, over and over again. Once we visited the same flowers four times in one day.
We drank dew from rose petals. Did you know that the drops of water on a rose taste exactly the way the rose smells? Kind of sweet and wistful and crazy.
We met up with many friends (mostly by accident).
We cooked and ate and talked. There was napping and yoga and more walking. And every minute of it was wonderful.
Normally when I have guests I need to know exactly how long they’re staying (not that I can handle guests for more than two days anyway), but with Svevo I could totally have him stick around forever. It was so wonderful.
I am Tyler Durden.
On one of these walks we randomly stumbled upon an outdoor Shiva Nata class and saw Larisa, Rhiannon and Casey, among other shivanauts! These are all people who have rallied at Rally with me and who teach Shiva Nata.
I was exclaiming over that when Lisa Bee asked if if I feel like Tyler Durden.
That is exactly how I feel.
Shivanauts everywhere! This thing that I have been growing from nothing (way back when I started teaching I was the only person teaching this outside of Andrey).
I mean, some people were teaching but just as a warm-up for yoga, not as a thing by itself.
And now. Now I can just accidentally wander into a class.
It’s so insane and so great. I love it.
Salvaged Wednesday (not a band).
Even though Wednesday seemed like a total loss, around 4pm I got my second wind, thanks to some sweet and kind help from the First Mate.
And I got a ton of work done in about an hour. It was huge and important and it really saved the day, if not the week.
The Shiva Nata training page. I did it! Unexpectedly and joyfully.
Yes! I rewrote the Shiva Nata training page and now it is so much better.
You should read it. No, really. You should read it!
I had fun rewriting it, once I got over my giant stuck around it, and am so excited for September.
Note that early registration ends June 15 which is seriously soon. FYI.
Derby!
Roller derby all weekend long.
Come on, Shivanauts!
Inspired.
Big ideas, big shivanautical epiphanies, big decisions.
Stuff is changing and I am actually kind of happy about it.
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, thanks to Dan Savage:
Its Tragic Aftermath
They’re smart, funny, and playing in town all week. Except that it’s really just one guy.
And some of what I’ve been reading/thinking about this week.
Good outpouring of anger from our Léan. Work, Parenthood and All That.
So, to summarise, if you do a job that allows breaks every day, weekends, sick pay, holiday pay – and, in fact, pay in the first place – you’re “working”. BUT if you perform exactly the same tasks, without any of the breaks or the pay and with a 24/7 on-call clause, you’re “not working”. Run that one by me again?
You should read this recipe for the literary reference. And for the beautiful description of peaches.
Heidi’s Presence potion is here. Hooray!

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.