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.
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.
Very Personal Ads #93: Toozday is find-the-clews-day!
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!
And while we’re gwishing, send some love for Portland’s Wheels of Justice. Bouting against the B.A.D. Girls today.
Thing 1: dance dance dance dance
Here’s what I want:
Movement, and lots of it.
Literally, figuratively, symbolically, I don’t really care at this point.
Ways this could work:
With some speedy and intense shivanautical flailing, of course.
With music. In the dark. At the Playground.
Any or all of the above.
My commitment.
To shake things up.
Thing 2: pesach ease
Here’s what I want:
Passover is not even slightly the most annoying holiday, but it does have certain elements that drive me completely batty.
I’d like everything to just kind of work out, without too much effort on my part.
Ways this could work:
Let the gentleman friend be in charge of all the cooking, of course.
My commitment.
To pay attention to what I need, how I’m feeling, and what the new patterns need to be.
Thing 3: updates!
Here’s what I want:
Last week at Rally (Rally!), which was fantastic by the way, I made a lot of progress on various projects and web stuff.
But I haven’t actually updated any of it.
I need to start moving this progress from my brain, notebooks and computer files to where it needs to go.
Also to update the Rally page with success stories, since we’re constantly collecting them.
Like how at this past Rally, someone wrote the mission statement for her new business in a few minutes in the hammock, after being stalled on it for months. Awesome.
Ways this could work:
I could just do it.
Also at Drunk Pirate Council. That could help.
I could find myself in the zone. Or use Shiva Nata to get there.
My commitment.
To ask for help and support. To not try and go it alone.
To cheer for every step, no matter how ridiculously minuscule. In fact, to look for the ridiculously minuscule and start there. Sparklepoints!
Thing 4: a calm, steady knowing-what-to-do
Here’s what I want:
Lots of hard decisions to be made this week.
I’d like to be able to slice through all the ambivalence and just know. Or if I can’t know, to commit to something and see how it goes.
Ways this could work:
No idea.
But I’m receptive to unlikely, perfect, simple solutions showing up.
My commitment.
To breathe and wait.
To say Hello, day.
To wait until Toozday.
To dance, dance, dance, of course.
Thing 5: speedy healing!
Here’s what I want:
Recovering from a physical thing that left me kind of battered and worn out.
Ways this could work:
The magic of bathtime! Ooh, getting more epsom salts.
Early to bed.
All my cells doing what needs to be done. I love you guys!
My commitment.
To appreciate what I can do (dancing! I can still dance!).
To appreciate the workings and the behind-the-scenes of it all.
And to give myself a break when I can’t appreciate anything.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted progress made on the Playground website, and it happened. Still a work-in-progress, but you can peek here.
Then I asked for momentum to be there with my body practice, which it kind of did and kind of didn’t. Something I hadn’t counted on threw me off track, but all the crazed Shiva Nata definitely helped.
I also wanted to make stuff happen with the Shiva Nata iPhone app, and whooooooo! Yes yes yes.
And I wanted a glass straw. So glad I asked, because the gentleman friend got me one and it is fabulous. Love it even more than I expected to. Apparently I drink way more water when you hand it to me in a glass with a glass straw. Weird.
Thanks to all of you for the loving suggestions. Kisses.
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 #141: chicken sings the blues
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.
The craziest part about this crazy week of crazy is that it’s not even over yet.
I’m running around like, well, a chicken (head still on, I hope), trying to get things done before the weekend and then aaaaaaaaaagh pesach. Let’s see.
The hard stuff
Noise noise noise noise.
This week we were at Rally (Rally!) because it was Rally #8, and yay, Rally is the best.
Except the building next door was under constant repair, and there was endless hammering and banging and drilling.
It was unbelievably distracting, and made everything extra-challenging.
And then I got locked out of my house. In the pouring rain.
While the Gentleman Friend was away.
When all I wanted to do was to crawl into bath and bed, and eat something warm.
Hooray for neighbors with keys. I was such the miserable mouse until they showed up.
Hormones.
Ugh.
While it is nice to have an explanation for why I suddenly hate everything with great passion, it is still not any fun.
Trouble concentrating.
Too many projects, too much input, too much to think about, and all that noise.
Some not-good news that I can’t do anything about.
Frustrating and hard.
Nostalgia.
It’s annoying.
Time! It constantly seems like there isn’t enough of it.
And pesach starts Monday, and that is both ridiculous and impossible.
So much still to clean! On the other hand, at least I can look forward to eating kneidelach, so onward to the good.
The good stuff
Rally! Rally!
We played, we wrote, we flailed, we projectized.
People wrote business plans, changed their businesses, worked on their writing, took lots of naps, designed products and generally did extraordinary things.
And it was fun and hilarious and sweet. A lovely group. Rally! I live for Rally.
Huge progress on so many things.
The Shiva Nata iPhone app is really moving forward.
As are several other projects. This is good!
Shivanautical epiphanies, as ordered.
Lots of big, unlikely understandings and insights.
Not sure how to use them yet, but really excited about the new direction.
I made the most awesome treasure map!
It was this giant arts and crafts project at the Playground.
My monsters were not happy about it, because they couldn’t get how it was going to help my business. But then it did, of course.
Metaphors plus scissors plus sparkly paper plus glue. It was so much fun. I wish Joseph could have been there.
The Playground has a new fairy door.
It’s pink and charming, and there is a bucket in front that holds some very tiny boots.
We already have this highly entertaining tradition of regularly moving the fairy door, so that it’s always somewhere else.
Now that there are two of these, it’s fairies in and out all over the place. Apparently.
Anyway, the Playground is a very special place. And getting to spend the week there dreaming up projects was seriously wonderful.
Taught a very funny Shiva Nata class.
We made up words for the various positions.
Clarity, Knowing, Love and Bad-assery for the horizontals. Floop, Poink, Kachow and Boom for the verticals.
So as we progressed we ended up getting increasingly complex and ridiculous combinations, like Clarity-Boom! Or Poink-Love!
And sentences like Know your Floop in order to be a Bad-ass Kachow. Yes, that was level 2 transquarters, baby.
Had to be there, I guess. It was AMAZING and brain-break-ey.
Sunday!
Rose City’s Wheels of Justice are taking on the B.A.D. Girls, and this is extremely exciting and I cannot stop talking/thinking about it. Just look at that picture of Sully Skullkicker getting around Demanda Riot!
Every time we bout against Bay Area, it’s super stressful.
I am going to have no voice at all come Monday.
And can I just point out how great it is that five of the top six (derby-nerd-ranked) roller derby teams in North America are in the west coast division? And how that also makes it nearly impossible to ever get to nationals?
Take it from me. These are very exciting times.
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 to us via the inimitable @sfslim.
Anarchist Beer Fairy
This one actually is just one guy.
And some good stuff I read this week.
I was hardly online at all because of Rally, but two things you should definitely look at:
Even if you don’t follow the game, this piece by Zach Dundas is a terrific read about culture.
And Kat’s post about two minimum daily requirements is the most perfect thing ever.
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.