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.
Ten Times Why.
Why is such a tricky question.
Maybe even the trickiest.
There are times when it is so completely not useful to ask why. The resistance-filled why, which takes me into self-interrogation and blame.
But there is also the helpful why. The one that is loving, curious and receptive, which is perfect for destuckifying.
See also: The two kinds of asking why.
Ha. I knew I’d written about this before. Found it!
The practice of ten times why.
Anyway, a few years ago I went to this unbelievably straight business seminar in Vancouver (Hotel conference room! Suits! Outsider complex!).
And someone was talking about how at Toyota (see?), there’s this thing about asking why five times.
For example, when you’re investigating something that has gone horribly wrong, or you’re evaluating a system. You keep asking why until you get at the reasons behind the reason.
I loved that. And I started using it on everything. Not just business systems, but personal stuff too.
Except that sometimes I’d forget.
It’s not that I’d forget about the practice of asking why.
It’s just that I wouldn’t feel like it. Because I’d lost track of the part about the why being a gentle, inquisitive, caring why, instead of the mean what the hell is wrong with you why are you such an asshat kind of why.
But when I remember… then it works brilliantly.
Yesterday I used this for the Shiva Nata iPhone app. I was supposed to be reviewing it to make sure there weren’t any mistakes, but I was in mad avoidance mode.
No progress. I couldn’t even start. So I started doing the Ten Times Why thing, and around the sixth or seventh why, everything started to make sense.
Like this.
Curious me: I can tell you really don’t feel like going through the app. Tell me more about why this is something you’re avoiding…
Answer: Because I can’t do it.
Curious me: Why is it that you think you can’t do it?
Answer: Because it’s too much responsibility. It’s not fair! I don’t want this much responsibility!
Curious me: So you’re feeling pressured. Tell me, why is it that you think that this is about responsibility?
Answer: Because I’m pretty much the only person who can accurately and quickly check this for mistakes and find them. And if I mess up, it’s all on me.
Curious me: Why do you think it is that this is so painful?
Answer: Because my marriage fell apart and everything I tried was useless.
Curious me: Oh. Sweetie, I’m so sorry. Do you know why it is that now is reminding you of then?
Answer: Because everyone is counting on me and I am afraid to let them down.
Curious me: And why do you think that this is what is happening?
Answer: Oh! It isn’t. I fell into an old pattern but that isn’t what this is about at all. I can go through the app now. Thank you!
I do this with everything.
Curious me: So you’re really not in the mood to go to the dentist. That makes sense. Why do you think this is bringing up so much pain for you?
Answer: Because I miss my dental hygenist in Israel.
Curious me: And why do you miss her?
Answer: She was just a regular person. There wasn’t anything official about her. And her hair was a different color each time and she kept secrets for me.
Curious me: And why do you think that this helped you feel comfortable?
Answer: Because I felt at home. It was a safe place.
Curious me: I’m wondering about why you think it might be that that safety is so important for you.
Answer: Everything comes from safety.
Curious me: Why is it, do you think, that everything comes from safety?
Answer: Safety allows you to receive.
Curious me: And why do you think that this is true?
Answer: That’s my experience. But maybe I can create safety for myself in different ways. Maybe it’s up to me to make this a safe experience. Okay! I can think about that.
And with blog posts.
Curious me: I know! Let’s ask WHY a bunch of times! Why is it good to write this post now?
Answer: Because it is in my head taking up space. And because I can’t write when more posts are building up in my head.
Curious me: Why is it good to move stuff from your head to the blog?
Answer: Because it helps people and it helps me, and it lets me download the new thing.
Curious me: Why is it good to download the new thing?
Answer: Because it will solve all the challenges I’m currently dealing with.
Curious me: Why is it good to solve all the challenges you’re currently dealing with?
Answer: Because that’s how I become the me who runs XXXXXXXXX [secret future project of hugeness that cannot be spoken of here yet]. Oh! Of course.
It’s not really about five whys or ten or a hundred.
It’s just about being the Interviewer, and asking out of love.
It’s about channeling that genuine curiosity which comes from kindness. Without an agenda and without attachment to an end result.
And then letting each why take you somewhere deeper, following intuition and letting the WHYs do the work.
Hard stuff, for sure. Definitely a fairly advanced practice, but one that can be super useful.
If you’d like to play with me here in the comments by asking why over and over again, that would be wonderful. I would love the company.
And comment zen for today…
As always, we all have our stuff. And we take responsibility for our stuff by not putting it on anyone else.
We let people have their own experience and we don’t give each other advice (unless someone specifically asks for it, of course). That’s part of making a safe space to play.
Love for all the hard!
Very Personal Ads #96: upside down and back up again
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!
Sunday! Personal ads!
For the 96th week in a row.
Let’s do it.
Thing 1: Figure out what might be the next steps in the soft.
Here’s what I want:
Last week I wanted to be able to make some video of my (highly entertaining!) Shiva Nata classes.
And it happened — astonishingly! — despite my massive stuck related to this particular form of being seen.
And now it’s just a matter of pressing the Pooblish button in a variety of places. But I haven’t. Because apparently I’m not done with this round of destuckifying.
Since everything is all set up and ready to go in the hard, it’s clear that I need to do some more work in the soft.
Ways this could work:
I can nap on it, meditate on it, dance on it and flail on it.
I can write love letters.
And use more Shiva Nata to get whatever the next insights and understandings are that will help me move forward.
Oh, and I can talk to the Interviewer or bring in a negotiator too.
My commitment.
To ask curious, loving questions.
To agree to not push.
To find out what I need, how I feel and what would help make this whole process easier.
Thing 2: Speaking of ease…
Here’s what I want:
I am seeing the dentist tomorrow, and I would like the entire experience to be as ease-filled as possible.
So I’m asking for grace, strength and a sweet, calm, sovereign something-or-other to get me through it peacefully.
Ways this could work:
Trust.
Wearing my sovereignty boots, of course. It helped last time!
I can take time before the appointment to write up a gwish-list.
And I can check in with the Book of Me and the Revue Anthology for reminders about other things that help and about how great my dentist is.
My commitment.
To breathe.
To adapt the Hello, Day questions for this particular appointment. To use the magic of metaphor. To hand out sparklepoints right and left. To myself, yes.
Thing 3: Lip balm!
Here’s what I want:
Specifically, remembering it.
I have little pots of lip goo everywhere, but I can’t seem to remember to use them until my lips are falling off.
And then as soon as they start healing up, I forget again.
So I’d like reminders. Or a routine. Or a ritual. Or some combination of all of the above.
Ways this could work:
I could ask Slightly Future Me who has already resolved this issue. Maybe she has advice.
And I can remove everything but lip stuff from my coat pockets, so that my hands will do the remembering for me.
My commitment.
To find out what needs to happen for me to have a more conscious, loving and harmonious relationship with my body.
To be receptive to doing (and perceiving) things differently as a part of that.
Thing 4: Rally prep.
Here’s what I want:
Ohmygod! Rally (Rally!)
I am crazy excited about the upcoming Rally, which is Rally #9 and which is going to be absolutely marvelous.
And there’s still lots to do to prepare.
Including some downtime for me, please. Or upside-down time, as I call it. Because I’d really like to be extra-rested before we swing into rallying mode.
Ways this could work:
I have not the slightest idea.
My commitment.
To play, play, play and find out what is needed.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted a chalkboard, and lots of people suggested chalkboard paint, which is a super interesting idea. It won’t work for my purposes because the wall in question is a bumpy stucco-ey one — I appreciate all the creative excitement though!
My gentleman friend ended up tracking down just the right size of chalkboard, so that’s all taken care of.
I was working on a painful business-related pattern, and got some good thinking and processing done this week. It’s certainly not resolved but the shivanautical insights are helping lots.
Then I was doing some forgiveness work and I’m still doing it.
And I wanted enough confidence to be able to do a Shiva Nata video. And it totally worked because that class was so much fun, and I didn’t even notice the camera. Also, pink power wig! Yay.
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 #144: obscenely unproductive!
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! A leetle late, but it’s still Friday.
I have not even the slightest idea what happened this week, but here we are on the other end of it.
Let’s see…
The hard stuff
Did I really get nothing done? It kind of seems like that.
This might just be the monsters talking but I’m pretty sure I got absolutely screw-all done this week.
The past several days have been so obscenely unproductive that I would have been much better off actually going on vacation.
Note to Slightly Future Me: in times of extreme lack of results, run away!
So that’s what I look like when I laugh. Huh.
Nothing adds to general insecurity like seeing yourself on video.
And since we shot a ton of Shiva Nata footage this week, I have spent way more time than normal/necessary looking at myself.
It wasn’t all bad. I learned all sorts of useful things (Hey, I’m funny when I teach! And I smile way more than I thought I did!).
But there was also just that awkward and horrible dawning realization that yes, this is you. Sort of like this.
People.
Specifically people who don’t yet have the skill and ability to take responsibility for their stuff, and so they end up projecting their problems, stuckness and pain onto you.
A lot of really not–sovereign communication coming my way this week.
Noise!
Construction near Hoppy House. Construction near the Playground.
Everything is noisy and annoying, which is probably also related to the Great Not Getting Anything Done of May 2011.
Argh.
The good stuff
Video! We shot video!
Since this project has been in the works since oh, 2005…
And since I am deathly afraid of video cameras…
This was kind of a big deal.
I wore the sparkly pink wig and taught a couple of extremely silly Shiva Nata classes, where both hilarity and buttery epiphanies reigned supreme.
Lots of giggling. And the main thing: it happened!
Which means it could — theoretically — happen again!
And it wasn’t hard.
That’s my second yay about the video.
After all that terror, it turned out that once I started teaching I completely forgot that the camera was there.
And I didn’t look half as ridiculous as I did when they interviewed me on German television either. So there!
Well, I’m sure the wig doesn’t really help with not looking ridiculous, but it helped with everything else.
Lovely coincidences.
Today was the week of running into people I know.
Or people I didn’t know that I knew but actually did.
And it was marvelous.
I have the best eye doctor in the entire world.
This is something that I always forget, so it really needs to go into the Book of Me:
Hey, Havi. Guess what? You like him! He makes you laugh! It’s a much easier experience than you think it’s going to be.
Also: there’s some fabulous new technology that means I don’t ever have to get my eyes dilated ever again.
Let’s have some serious dork dancing to celebrate this fabulous piece of news.
Sun!
Much walking around happily in the park and reading in the garden.
And making fun of all the fair-weather-frolickers. 🙂
Jeans.
So. I bought jeans this week.
This might not sound like news, but I haven’t worn jeans in seven years.
And this week it was suddenly time.
Plus the first pair I tried on fit me perfectly, which I seem to recall as being a HIGHLY unusual occurrence.
This is probably only a big deal in my head, but it’s a very big deal in there so be happy with me!
Epic healing nap.
I was at the Playground and dozed off in the Refueling Station there for nearly three hours.
After which everything was magically better.
Stuffed mushrooms!
Just like I remember from the Babar books…
My gentleman friend, who also happens to be the best cook I have ever met, has been outdoing himself this week.
Also fresh sunflower seed bread from the Hoppy House sourdough (yes, that’s our backyard!) and the most unbelievable things with jerusalem artichokes.
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 brought to you by Amna and it’s called:
Sad Lumpy Routine
They’re more upbeat than they sound. Check them out if you have a chance. And keep in mind, it’s really 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.
p.p.s. One spot left at this coming Rally (Rally!). May 16-19. It is going to be amazing.
The IWOM Brigade.
I do not have the slightest idea what I do for a living.
Nor do I wish to know.
The not-knowing has worked out quite well for nearly six years of running a business, and I expect it to only get better.
The grown-ups in my company (attorney, accountant, financial planner) don’t seem to be worried either.
They trust the duck. As they should.
A little confusion never hurts.
One of my neighbors thinks I’m a business consultant. Or a life coach?
Another thinks I’m a yoga teacher. Her husband thinks I’m an unlikely internet celebrity.
Another knows that I run a sort of zany pre-school for adults and that I always get the best toys at the neighborhood yard sales.
They’re all correct. I try not to talk about it. It just adds to the mystery.
The dreaded question.
The only thing I really dislike is that awful, awful moment when you meet someone new and they ask what it is you do.
I try to avoid this. I have tried being five years old. Thanks, Maria!
Or saying that I’m a pirate queen, which is true.
But then they still want you to talk about it, and I NEVER want to talk about it.
I have tried being evasive and changing the subject. I have tried being a secret agent and a ninja and a mob boss and saying that I can’t talk about it.
With an Italian accent! Idawanna talk about it! But it still stresses me out.
Oh ho! A sneak-around!
You see, it has been decided that I am an International Woman of Mystery.
I am part of the underground IWOM Brigade.
And no matter how many questions well-meaning strangers ask about what I do as an international woman of mystery, I am marvelously unfazed.
Person: So. What do you do?
Me: Oh! I’m an International Woman of Mystery! And this is my duck, Selma.
Person: An international woman of mystery? Really? What does that entail?
Me: I wish I could tell you but then it would be considerably less mysterious. What about you?
That is the power of the International Woman of Mystery.
It’s also fun to say, in a reverberating sort of way. IWOM IWOM IWOM!
What does it mean to be an International Woman of Mystery?
I’m not sure.
Remember when I tried to figure out what a CEO would do without having to wear shoulder pads?
That’s when I was looking for the signifiers of sovereignty.
And now I’m looking for the signifiers of being an International Woman of Mystery.
Sovereignty boots? Check.
Glitter eyeliner? IWOM drag outfits! Costumes!
I might need a parasol. Or a secret ring. It could be anything!
Joining the IWOM Brigade!
Would you like to? Obviously there aren’t any criteria.
It’s not important that you be and/or identify as any part of this: woman, mysterious or international.
It’s more about attitude.
It says:
I don’t have to know, explain or justify what I do. Unless I happen to feel like it.
Or possibly: Why yes, I AM wearing glitter.
Or possibly: I am changing the subject!
It’s a personal investigation into your secret identity and your superpowers, without owing explanations to anyone else. It’s about freedom.
Play with me!
There are many ways to play.
We can up with fun possible associations (and accessories) for the IWOM Brigade. Calling cards? Badges!
Or determine the qualities of being an International Whatever of Mystery:
Radiance, of course. Freedom. Play. What else?
Or we can find other ways to Intentionally Not Agree to being put in a box.
The Comment Zen part:
We remember that talking about business, biggification and identity can bring up a lot of hard and painful stuff. We all have our stuff.
We make room for people to have their own experience, and we don’t give unsolicited advice.
Love all around. And really great sunglasses, because that part seems important.
The second time I got fired.
The thing about memory is that it can be so tricky, as we know.
It rewrites itself in mysterious ways. In the wormholes.
And every so often I set off on another internal investigation, only to discover that I am, yet again, wrong about so many things.
That second time I got fired.
The interviewer is very nice. Compassionate, curious, an asker of quiet questions.
And here we go.
The interviewer: Would you be willing to talk about getting fired from the bar? What happened there?
Me: Well, I threw a giant stack of coasters at someone’s head. Hit him straight in the forehead. Just about knocked him off his seat.
The interviewer: *cracks up laughing*
Me: You have a very infectious laugh. And yes, I guess that is kind of funny. It wasn’t really at the time. But yes. Okay.
We both giggle for a while.
Going deeper.
The interviewer: How many coasters?
Me: I don’t know. Fifty? A pretty thick stack. I just picked them up and nailed that guy right in the head.
The interviewer: And what happened?
Me: He was stunned. Everyone thought it was hilarious. He left me a giant tip. And apologized for whatever asshat thing he had done to provoke me, which of course I don’t even remember now, even though I’m sure it was totally justified and a long time coming.
The interviewer: But then you lost your job for it.
Me: Oh god no. That wasn’t the kind of place where something like that even registered. I mean, it was out of character for me, but it wasn’t a firing offense. I don’t even think anyone cared.
The interviewer: But that’s when you left.
Me: Huh. I guess I didn’t get fired. I left.
I left.
The interviewer: Wow. And all those years we thought you’d been fired.
Me: I know! Weird, right? I didn’t get fired! But really, I probably should have been.
The interviewer: You think?
Me: I was really burnt out. And really angry. Every minute I stayed was doing more damage. It was better for everyone involved that I leave. And the person I was becoming was kind of scaring me, to be honest.
The interviewer: What was good — or useful — about leaving when you did?
Me: It was time to go. It broke a cycle. It interrupted a pattern that was hurting me.
The interviewer: And what was hard about leaving when you did?
Me: Ahahahaha. You know in a film noir when the protagonist makes some tiny, seemingly meaningless decision that then launches him into a series of irreversible consequences that ultimately lead to his doom? That’s what this was.
The interviewer: Because of this.
Me: That’s the point where it started. Everything got worse. And it kept getting worse for a looooong time before it got better.
What’s true and what’s also true?
The interviewer: Is that true, do you think?
Me: Of course it’s true! I was there. That was the first step in a chain of awful, awful events that just got increasingly more awful.
The interviewer: Alright. And what else is true?
Me: Argh. What else is true? Let’s see. That possibly all that crappy stuff might have happened anyway. Or that if I knew how to approach burnout differently, I could have avoided the cycle of doom, but I had already pushed myself so far beyond the limits that I wasn’t really there anymore.
The interviewer: Let’s talk about Herodotus.
Me: Huh?
The interviewer: You know what I mean.
Me: Oh! Direct cause and indirect cause. You’re suggesting that I’ve retroactively assigned direct cause back to this one particular day when I supposedly got fired (even though I didn’t). But actually this event might not have been a cause of what followed — or maybe only an indirect one?
What’s possible?
The interviewer: When is it useful to tell your story? When does telling the tale of what happened to you become something positive, powerful or therapeutic?
Me: When it allows you to process your experience, release pain, identify distortions (or misunderstandings), and respond to your self-from-then with love.
The interviewer: And when are these re-tellings of our personal histories less useful?
Me: Well, when we aren’t curious. Because then we’re just solidifying and reinforcing the existing unexamined narrative.
The interviewer: What is possible here, now? What can come out of this telling of your story?
Me: I’m not sure. It’s probably useful to know that I didn’t actually get fired. And that I didn’t seal my fate of doom. And that I’m not actually in a film noir, even though that whole year was unbelievably hellish. I’m here now.
The interviewer: And how is now different from then?
Me: Oh! I see. When things are rough, I think I’m launching a Cycle of Disasters. Like in Nobody’s Fool when Sully goes on a stupid streak. What if there is no stupid streak? What if messing up once doesn’t mean it’s all going to be messed up?
Retelling the retelling.
The interviewer: How are you going to tell this story now?
Me: Uh, I threw a bunch of coasters at someone’s head and he left me a giant tip and burnout is not good for me THE END?
The interviewer: Anything else?
Me: I don’t know. I will have to pay attention and investigate the narrative to see what patterns live there.
The interviewer: You know what I like about you?
Me: I don’t know how to answer this question, but you are the best interviewer ever!
The interviewer: You interact with things. Even the painful ones. But you don’t force anything.
Me: That’s the idea.
The interviewer: I just wanted to say that you’re going about this in a really good way so that later when you think this is crazy and you don’t want to post it, you’ll remember that it’s useful.
Me: Thank you.
And comment zen …
This is my own internal process. I’m not sharing it in order for it to be analyzed, or to be told what to do or to solicit theories about what’s wrong with me.
I share it in the hope that some aspect of it will be useful for other people who are also working on their own whatever-it-is.
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It takes time. We keep this space safe by not giving each other unsolicited advice.
Things that are welcome: your own stories and experiences (especially about how tricksy memory can be), thinking out loud about this thing that is conscious self-inquiry, apple juice.
I really want some apple juice.
That’s all. Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.