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 #94: basically the pink wig is in charge from now on
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!
Thing 1: a Shiva Nata faq that I might even enjoy writing.
Here’s what I want:
I’d really like to throw together a fabulous and useful Frequently Asked Questions list for the upcoming Shiva Nata teacher training that I’m running in September.
And I’d like this to not turn into a giant pain-in-the-ass never-ending project of doom, but instead to be fun.
Yes, I’d like it to a) happen, and b) happen with as much ease, flow, support, joy and general silliness as possible.
Ways this could work:
I can ask for help.
Actually, there are lots of people who could help. The shivanauts in the Secret Lab, people in my Kitchen Table program, graduates of past teacher trainings…
Also, I can wear my sparkly pink wig. Because costumes always help.
And you know what would be extra-great? If we could make progress on a general, non-teaching-related faq at the same time. I would love that.
My commitment.
To notice where my stuff comes up and get outside perspective, because sometimes I’m so deep in the practice that I’m probably the wrong person to be answering frequently answered questions.
To connect to the fractal flowers and remind myself of all the ways that this mission is useful for the future.
To insist that it is okay to find ways to make this pleasurable, instead of just slogging through it through force, because Shiva Nata is always about replacing the old patterns with better ones.
Thing 2:
Here’s what I want:
Tomorrow I’m teaching a special Shiva Nata class for the hard-rocking Guns N Rollers — the roller derby team we sponsor.
We’ll be working on coordination, speed, agility, brain training, reaction time and force fields! Obviously it will be a good time.
What I’d like is for it to be a really useful, powerful experience that supports everything the team needs, and brings more shivanautical superpowers into the world of derby.
I’d also like it to plant seeds for my bigger dream: a world in which pretty much all athletes do Shiva Nata, as a matter of course. Because who doesn’t want to be more coordinated?
The pitcher for the San Francisco Giants: warming up with a little Shiva Nata in the bullpen. In the Bundesliga, of course! Because doing Shiva Nata is how you avoid relegation — everyone knows that. Any NBA team making it to the playoffs… they’re going to be looking for a great Shiva Nata trainer…
It feels like fantasy now. But it isn’t. And somehow I want this class to be symbolically connected to that vision.
Ways this could work:
I’m going to have to do some talking with Slightly Future Me, to see what she knows about how this is connected. Or how I can imagine/pretend it is.
And I need to recognize what is possible.
My commitment.
To pay attention to what’s needed.
To ask how I can be of service.
To be curious, receptive, and to ask lots of questions.
Thing 3: writing up notes!
Here’s what I want:
Last week I got all this amazing help from Cairene on one of my projects.
And I have about a million pages of notes that I’d like to type up and organize, so that I’m not desperately searching for this notebook in six months when I’ll really need them.
And I’m not even slightly in the mood.
Ways this could work:
The pink wig, of course.
Hmmm. It’s really the same as the previous ask. It’s about finding a way to feel the connections between the thing I’m doing in the moment and the bigger plan/vision/desire.
So that steps don’t happen in isolation.
My commitment.
To write a tiny love letter to the notes.
To ask the part of me who knows how to do this what would make it more fun.
To stay connected to the essence of what I want while I’m figuring out the details — using the soft to be in the hard.
Thing 4: rewriting the Rally page
Here’s what I want:
We have a Rally (Rally!) coming up. It is the ninth Rally.
Each one has been nothing short of miraculous in terms of how much it’s possible to get the hell done in a matter of three and a half days. It is a shiny, epiphany-filled voyage of hilarity, productivity and surprises.
And I am still not very good at explaining what it is or why it is so life-changingly spectacular.
So I’d like to rewrite the page that describes it.
Ways this could work:
Help and support from my Kitchen Table companions at the Deguiltified Chicken Board forum.
Ideas from past and present Rallions.
To keep working on the Playground website.
Surely there is something I can do without the help of the pink wig? No. Apparently not. Okay, pink wig it is!
And of course, some shivanautical hot buttered insights, please.
Saying “hot buttered” just reminded me of how much I can’t wait for pesach to be over. Is it now? Is it now? Are we there yet?
My commitment.
To mess around. To play. To be receptive to a variety of possibilities.
To examine perceptions and assumptions. And to ask why about a million times until I figure out what I’m wrong about.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted lots and lots of movement, physical and otherwise. And there was lots of it.
Mostly shivanautical but also walking and stretching and getting stuff done.
Then I wanted ease with pesach, and that happened because the gentleman friend basically took over and did the whole thing.
The next thing was about updating my various projects, which didn’t happen in some ways but did in other ways (I finished and put up the new about pages and the Whee the people page).
And I wanted a calm, steady, knowing-what-to-do, and it showed up when I needed it. 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 #142: disoriented and productive mouse needs some sunshine please
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.
Friday! Oh, Friday!
I’m so glad you’re here.
The hard stuff
The overdoing-it headache.
Yes, the overdoing-it headache that comes from overdoing-it.
I have officially overdone-it.
Ow.
Too much to do when all I want is to be out in the sun..
Note for the almanac section of the Book of Me:
Working yourself ragged in April is sooooo unfair. Change your life somehow so that you can get out and walk more because not doing that is horrible!
Okay, I’ll probably need a better plan that that, but it’s all I’ve got for now.
Big delays with the Shiva Nata iPhone app.
First some issues with the graphics and now I have to re-record all the audio.
Luckily our designer and programmer are both being amazing and patient with all of this. Still, this is a giant project.
And since it’s more of a symbolic biggification project rather than something that is actually going to be bringing in the monies, it’s kind of frustrating to be spending even more time on it after I’d thought we were so close to done.
Ugh, pesach is so disorienting.
And you have to always be home or there’s nothing to eat. Of course there’s nothing to eat at home either because you’re so sick of the two and a half kinds of food you’re allowed to eat.
And there’s still ages of it to go. Bah, bread of affliction, say I.
Not being able to dance.
First there was a hurt ankle, then some other stuff going on.
It makes me the crazy!
The good stuff
A silent mini-Very-Personal-Ad answered.
Last week I was writing all this stuff about how I want lots of tiny, cute little decoration things for the Playground, and also more display cases for items in the Toy Shop.
And then guess what happened?
Portland’s largest garage sale.
Timing was perfect. We got what we needed, got out quickly and (astonishingly) didn’t panic.
The fourth ever Shiva Nata teacher training!
It’s happening! In September.
We just announced the new teacher training yesterday and it’s been filling up quickly.
The last one was the most amazing experience, and I can’t wait for September.
I was wrong. Yay.
Oh, the many things that I am wrong about.
This week: two different occasions where something I had originally assumed had to be a flying shoe turned out to be not a shoe at all. As so often is the case.
What a relief. And a wonderful, useful reminder to find out what someone means before getting hurt.
In the zone! Like you would not believe.
Thanks to ridiculous amounts of Shiva Nata. And to the Deguiltified Chicken Board at my Kitchen Table program.
I used the Chicken Board to get so much done this week. I also turned all the Timbers chants into chicken cheers. Chicken cheers!
… When I root I root for the Chicken!
… We are mental, we are green, we are the greatest Chicken supporters that the world has ever seen!
… Burn, destroy, wreck and kill! Havi’s Chickens bloody will! Whoahhhh! Whoahhhh!
It worked. So much progress was made, and this is a really big deal because I have been so stalled on a number of projects. Action! Destuckifying!
Which lead to massive getting stuff done.
At last week’s Rally (Rally!), I did a lot with the theme of CONGRUENCE (a Hiro-ism).
And this congruence thing combined with Dance of Shiva apparently turns me into some super duper energizer bunny, as it happens.
Because this past week I’ve been singing and bouncing around and generally having more energy for doing stuff in the business than I’ve had in months.
And then I rewrote the Shiva Nata teacher training page, the Shiva Nata about page, edited the entire Playground website and made all sorts of adjustments to this website as well.
Whee! The people.
Most importantly, I replaced my old Is This You page which I’d never liked with Whee the People — something I’ve been wanting to do for two or three years now but was totally stuck on.
Appreciation to @copylicious for the name. And to @Makeness for reminding me of the existence of my Twitter landing page, because then I re-worked that as well.
Kneidelach.
Yum.
Also: thanks for the emergency delivery of farfel and pitzuchim!
How neat is THIS?
The fabulous @blondechicken went and named a yarn after me. And it’s beautiful.
We have heat at the Playground. Finally.
It involved a giant crane and shutting down the entire street, but at least now we don’t need all those space heaters. The ones that trip the circuit breakers that live in our neighbor’s office. Yes.
Deep sign of relief.
So excited for the next Rally!
It’s all about destuckifying patterns to get more done on your projects. We’ll be doing lots of shivanautical flailing (great for beginners and people who have always wanted to try this) and lots of getting stuff done.
I am so ready for this one. Rally!
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 I’m proud to present:
Insufficient Underthings
That’s kind of what they sound like too. Except that it’s really just one guy.
And some of the lovely things I read this week.
- Love this! Somebody make me one.
-
Here is a beautifully true statement:
“Exercise should be joyful movement. It should make you feel good, and free, and powerful.”
-
This piece from @elizabethhalt: I believe in kindness but i was never kind to my body.
-
And Quakebook is here — get a copy and send lots of appreciation to our @sandrajapandra for all she’s done to make this happen.
That’s it for me …
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.
The Treasure Map
On Day 2 of the last Rally (Rally!), I spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon creating a giant treasure map.
A treasure map! Because that was the big idea that our morning group Shiva Nata flailing gave me.
My monsters did not like this one bit. And they did not want to eat a cookie or go to a safe room. They wanted to rant and rage about what a colossal waste of time this was.
So I let them. I gave them their own notebook, and — in between pasting, coloring, drawing, cutting, arranging and sparkling bits and pieces of the treasure map — they got to have their say about how I am on an extremely doomed path to the doom of doom.
And then I was done and I had my treasure map.
It was very much not clear what was supposed to happen next.
The treasure map was simplistic. Highly stylized. Colorful. Shiny.
It was pretty, but I didn’t know what it meant or what I was supposed to do with it.
The monsters: “SEE? Doom! You wasted your precious extra-insanely-productive rallying time on arts and crafts?! Doom!”
I thought about fractal flowers and how everything has a hidden purpose, and how at Rally we follow the rabbit holes and infuse projectizing with curiosity, sweetness, movement and surprises.
But I still didn’t know what to do with the treasure map.
I had too much on my mind.
The creepy letter I’d received. And that awful feeling of something is in my space and I don’t know how to disappear it, or if I have the right to.
Not making progress on something that needed progress. And conflict with someone, which was really weighing on me.
Plus all the monsters.
So I decided any or all of these things could be walked through the treasure map.
Just like when we do Shiva Nata. We take the thing we want (or the thing we want to be done with), and we run it through a series of algorithms. Using our body. Sometimes we add words, and then those words become part of the process of de-patterning and re-patterning.
Instead of running my issues through the ever-more-complex cycles of the dance, I was going to lead them through the different pieces of the map.
Bringing it to the map.
This is what happened when I took the Creepy Letter Situation to the treasure map.
It’s a little weird, but then again you were probably expecting that.
Attuning to the map.
There are seven parts to the map. A secret walled garden, the hidden pool, the radiant sun, the ladder that is also a bridge, the grove of trees, the wishing well that reflects my qualities back to me, and the house that is just for me.
What are the qualities and essence of this Treasure Map?
Spaciousness. Belonging. Safety. Patterns. Shelter. Creativity. Forgiveness. Recovery.
I go into the secret walled garden. What does it tell me?
This is your home. You are safe here. You are sheltered here.
Guess what? Not everything requires a response. And you do not need to interact with these things that make you uncomfortable.
That’s not what you came here to do, and you did not invite them in.
Your job is to rest, replenish and smell flowers.
Your caretakers can shred this for you. They can break it down into its essence, which is HOPE. Someone thinks you can help them.
We can bring fragrant HOPE into this garden and give them back the rest.
I enter the pool. What does it tell me?
Wash it all off. Clear out and let go. Release what is not yours.
This doesn’t need to touch you one way or the other. It is like a test of things washing off of you. Let it leave your space.
Come into a world where these old, false perceptions of “everything is dangerous” are no longer true. Where you can respond with love to yourself.
Then you will be able to see when people are being small and petty and know that it’s not personal.
I step under the sun to be dried off. What does it tell me?
Everything burns. Give it to the fire.
Be in your power and none of this stuff lands. Be in your power.
I cross the ladder that is also a bridge. What does it tell me?
Drop your pain and discomfort over the side.
In order to make this crossing you need to say goodbye to the part of you who takes things personally.
You are the one crossing the bridge now.
I hide in the grove of trees. What does it tell me?
This is not your issue. Take care of yourself first.
Give this pain-that-is-not-yours and the pain that is us and deposit it into the earth.
Watch it decompose. Just because all things and people are connected doesn’t mean you need to attach to other people. Their stuff is theirs. Your stuff is yours. Separate and strengthen.
I consult the wishing well. What does it tell me?
I am stronger than I think. I am radiant. I am strong and radiant.
This doesn’t need to touch me. Buffers and barriers.
I go into the house that is just for me. What does it tell me?
Know that all these reflections are not reflections. Return all the projections and lies.
You know who is trying to be at the front of the V? Eight year old you. She sees the world as a place of being tormented or pranked.
These are old experiences and they are not true now. You are safe.
The stuff that happened then wasn’t personal, you are not a victim, those other people were in pain and they put their pain on you.
What is the truth in the heart of those experiences?
Oh! It never has to do with me. This experience is not a shoe. I can say: hey, this isn’t okay. I am saying it right now. HEY, THIS IS NOT OKAY.
Things do not pollute my space. I can toss them or not. It doesn’t matter.
Interesting…
Oh, my monsters were abashed, in an awkward teeth-gnashing sort of way. They were both annoyed and amazed that the treasure map had solved my problem.
So I started funneling other things through the treasure map. I plugged in marketing problems and personal problems. stone skipping questions and design challenges.
Slowly the monsters started to think this was a pretty okay game. They wanted their own treasure map. A scary doom-filled one! With monster-ey things!
I told them they know where the arts and crafts table is. And then I said it out loud. The Treasure Room.
The arts and crafts supplies at the Playground live in the Treasure Room.
All day long I had been wondering where the treasure was. I thought it was in the map, but it was everywhere. Awesome.
And comment zen for today.
You can play too if you like. Put something you’re working on into any of the places on the treasure map and find out: what can this tell me about the situation I’m in?
Or you can make your own treasure map. Or talk to monsters. Or have a tiny tea party in a secret garden.
Or just be happy with me about the fact that this ended up not being a day of doom, but a door into usefulness and creative productivity.
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We make room for everyone else to have their stuff, and we don’t give each other advice, unless someone asks. Love!
p.s. Registration for the next Shiva Nata teacher training is open as of this morning! You don’t have to want to teach — coming for the weird insights and ideas is okay too. 🙂
Imaginary bike racks.
I have a lot of ideas.
Cough! Understatement!
I don’t want to say “too many ideas”, because what’s that?
But definitely more than I or anyone else can comfortably handle.
They pile up. And you know how I feel about piles. So I’ve been trying to figure this thing out.
The first thing I’ve learned.
I’m not going to stop having ideas.
I’m an unlikely business savant and — related! — I do a lot of ridiculously hard Shiva Nata, so I pretty much always have new ideas. They’re mostly good.
Actually, even the crappy ones are pretty intriguing. Or at least entertaining.
So let’s say I have eight to ten good ideas each day and then maybe another dozen decent ones. And they have nowhere to go since even on my best day I might only be able to act on one of them.
And a lot of them aren’t for now. They’re for when I’m ready.
The second thing I’ve learned.
A designated space isn’t enough. It’s the kind of place that matters.
So I’ve tried out a variety of ways to place/sort/process these ideas.
Like the idea binder. The idea binder that I completely ignore by a) never putting things in there and b) never looking at what already is in there.
Or the Secret Idea Cave that lives in the cloud. It’s a lovely concept but I don’t really go there either.
Somehow it turned out that my relationship with this Place Where Ideas Might Live Until I’m Ready For Them was filled with pain. Clearly I need to do more experimenting to figure out how to build a new one.
The third thing I’ve learned.
Ideas are always in transit. And yet they — like everything else — want attention and acknowledgment at every stage in their process.
Huh.
At the last Rally (Rally!), I saw Jillian doing this cool thing with little cars. And colorful post-it notes. On the door of the magical elevator.
There was a sign that said it was the parking lot. Which, apparently, is where she parks ideas that aren’t relevant to her project.
The fourth thing I’ve learned.
Ahahahaha. I always have ideas that aren’t relevant to my project.
And then I end up either resenting them for being so shiny, or resenting my project for being my project. Commitment issues, I have some.
But what I don’t have is a car to park.
That’s because living in a city with terrific public transportation is at the very top of my these are the choices I’m making, dammit list.
So instead of a parking lot, I’m going with bike racks. Imaginary ones.
The bike rack experiment, and how it works.
I created a list in the Ship’s Log (the section of Basecamp where I communicate with my pirate ship crew). It’s called the bike rack.
Yes, I know this doesn’t work with the ship metaphor. Take it up with metaphor mouse.
When I have an idea, I put it in there. If I’m at the Playground or otherwise not-connected-to-the-internet, ideas go in my pink notebook.
The list goes directly below our list of things to discuss at the weekly Drunk Pirate Council.
The link to Basecamp is a partner-program link. What that means: they give me a tiny amount of symbolic Appreciation Monies if you sign up for their stuff based on me telling you how great they are. Obviously I would never recommend them if I weren’t fully in love with them.
We might not do anything with any of these ideas.
But at least we can make notes on them, categorize them, learn about them.
I’m hoping to come up with an entire taxonomy of ideas.
Actually it might end up more like a cosmology, since some of these are pretty weird ideas.
Anyway, I plan to investigate how they work and what they’re like and what categories they might fall into. And then I will ask them where they want to live.
This might be a hilarious disaster, of course.
But it will be interesting.
I like bike racks. I like invisible things. I like interacting with information, and trying to figure out how things fit together.
And as much as I avoid my ideas and hide from them because of what they might mean for my life, they are my tiny sweet things and I love them.
And if bike racks turn out to not be helpful, I’ll invent something else. The experiment continues!
Some of what’s currently parked in the bike rack.
Because how could I not share?
The shivanautical cheerleading team.
The roller derby team I sponsor needs a cheering squad. Of Shivanauts!
Did you know I used to work as assistant choreographer for a children’s dance troupe? I could do this. Maybe.
What if I hired X to draw what happens when I talk to Y about Z?
That would be the coolest thing ever.
The steampunk box of shivanauttery.
It’s like this giant box with see-through walls, and maybe it’s on wheels?
There is a Shivanaut inside! It is me! Where are we? A yoga festival? A crazy fair of weird and wonderful things?
And there are slider button things. You can select:
Any level between one and seven. Any speed between steady and insanely fast. With music or without. With numbers (1-4 or 1-8). With words.
And then you press the giant button and I dance what you programmed. Maybe the numbers or words could flash at the same time. Wouldn’t it be AWESOME?
The giant dragon that needs to live in the Playground.
I actually have someone who can make this happen, so we’re making this happen. The Playground is going to be soooo happy.
As am I. As will be everyone who comes to the Playground, with the exception of people who are afraid of dragons. But he won’t be that kind of dragon. You’ll like him.
And that’s my imaginary bike rack.
Is it… just one guy? Sorry, sorry. No, still funny!
Anyway, I’m liking this practice. I like how it seems to say:
Hey, idea! I like you. We should get to know each other better. You know, sometime. Why don’t you stay here for the time being until we can get you your own fabulous place to live?
Except it’s more casual than that. Like bike racks.
Play? Comment zen for today…
You can also share ideas if you like. You can throw them in the pot!
Or ideas for things to do with ideas. Or ideas about why ideas are so particular about their homes.
As always, we all have our stuff and we’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
We make room for people to have their own experience, which is why we don’t tell each other what to do or how to feel. Kisses.
Freedom and more freedom.
I’ve got freedom on the brain right now, because of pesach starting tonight.
It’s an odd, crazy, wonderful holiday. We burn things and fold things and hide things and scrub things. And dip them.
But mostly there’s a lot of thinking about freedom, which is what I’m doing now.
Today I’m listing freedoms. Like when we went and called things by their names to stop falling apart. Or made up new names for the moon of each month.
This time we’re naming freedom.
Freedom I appreciate.
The freedom to find my own way.
To invent my own job.
To go skipping down the street.
To talk to ducks and walls and puppets without being locked up.
To write without (external) censorship.
To say I choose instead of I have to, as a way of taking responsibility for everything on my dammit list.
Freedom that scares me.
The freedom to want what I want.
And to act on it.
To speak truth.
To insist on taking care of myself.
Freedom I’m pretty good at.
The freedom to interact with what is below the surface.
To examine the unexamined by questioning what is true and what is also true.
To let various parts of me have a say.
To say I am here.
Freedom I both crave and envy because I’m so not there yet.
The freedom (sovereignty!) that comes from not caring what other people think or how they will react.
To wear fishnets and rollerskates.
To keep the faith when things are tough.
To know that I do not ever have to explain what I do.
Freedom I wish for
The freedom to hide and to not hide. Whichever one is necessary. Maybe even both at the same time.
To unapologetically state what I need.
To release myself of obligations that are no longer relevant.
To create space for myself.
To recognize that these freedoms are already mine.
Freedom I wish for all of us.
The freedom to be at home wherever you are.
The freedom that comes from love.
To stand for things. Without fear and without pain.
To see the other side, and the other other side, and the one after that.
To inhabit your superpowers, knowing that they don’t diminish anyone else’s.
To be able to flail around and gleefully mess up, like we do in Shiva Nata, as a regular practice. With everything.
To learn from what maybe didn’t work, without judgment. To celebrate what did work, with wonder and delight.
That’s what I’m thinking about freedom.
I’m also thinking about my teacher Andrey Lappa in Ukraine, and my friend and colleague Dr. Max Becker in Berlin — both of whom began practicing yoga behind the iron curtain.
Back then this was dangerous, and yoga had to be done in secret. Hiding books under the floorboards. Asanas in the woods. Not able to share it with anyone. Imagine.
I’m thinking about how fortunate I am to have the freedom of living in a place and time where I don’t need to hide my experience.
There may be monsters or other internal blocks to interact with around this, but the choice is still mine.
I stretch into freedom. I inhale and exhale freedom. I plant gwishes and seeds. And I write about it. Incredible.
And comment zen for today.
Remember when we threw stuff in the pot?
I thought it could be fun to take all the different freedoms that we want or appreciate and throw them into the pot. You can do it quietly in your head and heart. Or here in the comments. Freedom!
Shout it from the rooftops or whisper it to the trees, or do it here with us. It all counts.
As always, we let people have their own experience, which is why we don’t give unsolicited advice. Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.
Happy kneidelach-eating and chag sameach to anyone who celebrates.