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.
Friday Chicken #130: Delirious brain scramble.
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Not sure how we got here ,but yay.
A special, completely delightful, extra-long Rally (Rally!) had been keeping me crazy-busy.
Let me say that I am astonished that Friday is here so quickly. Hi, Friday!
The hard stuff
High stress Monday.
Which was not good, because that’s when the Rally was starting. Too much to do, not enough time/ways/resources to do it.
Not fun.
Still catching up on sleep.
And not very well.
That is to say, catch-up is not really one of my primary skills. Learning.
Behind on other things as well.
Like Drunk Pirate Council. And pretty much everything in my business. Getting there.
Sloooooooowly.
Choosing.
There are three things I really need to do in the morning to keep the peace/sanity.
And each day this week it worked out there was only time for two of them.
I alternated which two, just in case there was a combination that worked better. But it still left me feeling off-balanced and kind of buzzy.
Not walking.
Walking is thing number four that I really like to do in the mornings, and it got shoved to a way distant back burner.
And I miss it.
Moments of being completely overwhelmed.
Which sucks. Iguanas everywhere.
The good stuff
I wrote a thing that I didn’t want to write.
And I was having a seriously hard time of it.
But I used the Deguiltified Chicken Board at the Kitchen Table, and the Monster Negotiation Board, and I did it.
And while the doing wasn’t fun, the having it done feels fantastic. Ten thousand sparklepoints for meeeeeee!
Fractal flowers!
That’s my name for the thing that happens when you work on one thing and it destuckifies all the other stuff you’re working on.
Totally happened.
The mugs showed up! Just in time. Hooray!
We got these fabulous orange mugs for the Playground Galley. They have the Playground logo with the pirate-duck flag (the Jolly Selma!) on them and they are awesome.
Love.
And I also got my first opportunity to make good use of my duck paperclips. Twice. Thanks and kisses to Mariko for those.
Ohmygod. Rally Rally Rally Rally Rally. Rally!
I love it so much I can hardly stand it.
This week has been absolutely delightful. This group of Rallions is completely amazing, we are having so much fun together, and I am getting insane amounts of stuff done.
Some epic projectizing, including a Species Chart of all of my iguanas, all sorts of useful chapters for the Book of Me, and quite a few big surprises.
Also, for some reason we ended up with a group of pretty advanced shivanauts at this one, so we have been epiphany-ing up a storm and breaking our brains. Level 7, y’all.
Bing bing bing bing! Rally!
Despite the busy, the blog still got some love from me.
The past several weeks it’s been really hard to get to my morning writing practice (that’s one of the three morning things).
This week I chose writing over the other two things, and while I missed them, it also felt really good to be back. Hi, guys. Missed you.
I can’t wait until I figure out how to re-organize my life in such a way that I’ll be able to have/do all three. But that’s what the next Rally is for, right?
Stars.
So I got this thing for the Playground that projects stars onto the ceiling.
It is the most incredible and indescribable thing in the world. Like a private planetarium show.
And since we have these ridiculously high coved ceilings, it just looks spectacular.
At Rally we have been turning out all the lights in the evening, snuggling up with blankets and pillows, putting on music and having a star show. It is perfect.
And some of the lovely presents that arrived for the Playground this week.
A giant package of colorful, weirdly shaped post-its from Pearl turned out to be a huge hit and just the right thing.
We were post-it-ing and mapping all week, and together with the construction paper, the glitter crayons and the sparkly pipe cleaners, much chaotic fun was had.
Also Pearl (a Rallygator of Rallies past) is the most adorable and most beaming person you have ever met, and just thinking about her sweet face makes me happy.
We also go an assortment of new wigs for the costumery, plus new posterboard, stencils, crayons and stickers to play with too. Huge appreciation to everyone who is helping this space be even more magical.
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?
Hormonally Hoodwinked
They’re playing in town all week. Except that it’s really just one guy.
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day and a restful weekend-ing.
And a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.
The Piling and the Depiling. Part I?
One of the things I’ve been messing around with lately is my relationship with piles of things.
I pile. I pile a lot. This is a known thing.
But it’s not just the usual Stacks of Useful Paper that I tend to think of inhabiting my pile-loving world. And it’s not just messes of iguanas and doom.
There are piles of information in my head, piles of Direct Messages on Twitter, piles of messages at the Frolicsome Bar, a wide variety of piles.
These piles serve a purpose for me. Or really: a couple of purposes.
And they are full of patterns.
The first adventure.
So I’ve been using the Rally (Rally!) — and all the madcap Shiva Nata we’re doing — to learn more about the patterns and lovingly rewire as necessary.
The mission: figuring out what I need and what the piles need and what the iguanas need.
There have been an astonishing number of resulting shivanautical moments of bing bing bing ohmygod that!!!
And much scribbling down of information and mapping of connections.
So. I thought I’d share the part I started with.
It’s a series of my Book of You questions. And here’s how I used them:
Two rounds. First round: total free-association whatever comes up. Second round: taking a bit more time to think things over.
The first round is here. I can post the second more-in-depth round too, if people are interested. Let me know.
Hey, piles. What do I know about you?
Let’s see.
Why I make them
Because it’s what I know.
How I make them
I can’t decide what to do. The iguanas take up so much space and so I hide them. I hide from them too, but mostly I am helping them hide.
The purpose they serve is
Monuments to despair and monuments to hope.
Reminders.
What I know about them, me and our relationship
We both misunderstand each other.
Where the pain is
Having things in common with X. Plus all the iguanas.
What they symbolize
Support.
Wait, what? Support?! Interesting.
Why I need them
An identity thing, maybe. Who would I be without them? No, it’s about death. It’s about goodbyes.
Why I’m done with them
They create walls and I am a wall-whisperer.
What is the connection between my past and piles:
Avoidance.
The version of me who is done with them.
She has other ways of working with systems and containers.
What I don’t know yet.
How to trust.
Playing. And the comment zen blanket fort.
What I would love:
If you wanted to think out loud about any of those questions, investigate your own relationship with piling, or do some of the super-speedy word association thing too.
A cup of tea.
If you would say Vhoooooosh! Which is the sound of stuckness dissolving and all the right spaces opening up.
What I would not love:
Please no advice, recommendations or pep talks. I am doing this in intimate thing in my way and in my own timing, and I need a lot of spaciousness with that.
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.
These are the superpowers.
One of the things we do at Rally (Rally!) is this:
We dream up superpowers.
Nothing fancy. Just whatever pops into your head in a given moment.
Some are fun. Some are silly. Some are weighted, some have capes, some are bashful, some come with provisos and caveats, some live in snow globes, some are lighter than air.
I have been collecting some of these superpowers and found that they wanted to be proclaimed. In fact, they wanted to be together. Like a kind of poem.*
So here we are.
These are my superpowers.
I can see things growing, as they’re growing. I can see them.
And I see what is there. I see what is not there.
To see through fog. Like headlights.
To know what needs to be said and what does not need to be said.
The right words appear at the right time. To name things that need names.
I can remember why I love things even when I’m not doing them.
How to find the useful in every piece of hard.
Wherever I go there is a portable refueling station.
All doors open for me.
Colors become sharper. Boundaries become apparent.
My force field becomes stronger every day.
I have a precise compass. A precise, loving compass.
Sweetness surrounds me.
Important things about superpowers.
If someone’s superpower appeals to you, it’s okay to decide you want it too.
You can begin to let that superpower begin to sift into your force field.
You do not diminish someone else’s powers by bringing a superpower into your world. There is enough for everyone. And you’re not taking it from them.
Not only can you have a superpower that someone else has named, but you can also call on some of the superpowers of the Playground, and make them yours:
Creativity, inspiration, safety, play, power, freedom, comfort, sweetness, endless possibility.
And of the Rally: Trust, silliness, experimentation, sovereignty, autonomy, support, wonder, pie. Rally!**
And of this blog: Reassurance, permission, acceptance, the ability to make up fake bands on the spot, steadiness, home.
They are there for you when you need them.
Playing! And today’s comment zen blanket fort.
Invoking a superpower is like slipping a message to your unconscious.
All these different parts of you have to start figuring out what you know about this power, and how to apply it. Which is awesome.
Being willing to be surprised is useful. It’s a practice.
And even if you’re pretty sure that the power you wish for has nothing to do with you, it’s a worthwhile experiment to stop and feel what happens when you name it.
So I thought it would be fun if we could do some naming of powers we’d like to have in our individual force fields. Play with me? Yay. Thank you!
* We had an accidental poem once, plus moons, rain, protection and a mess of iguanas.
** The February Rally is just about full but there’s still some room in March. Take a look. Rally!
Taking notes
We’re rallying at the Rally (Rally!), projectizing our projects.
And one of the things we’re doing while we work and play is this:
We’re noticing how we are what the patterns are.
We’re taking notes.
We’re asking WHY LIKE THIS? Yes, Israeli-ism.
But without judgment. Just pure curiosity.
We’re gathering information. More usefulness for the Book of You.
And here’s the section of the Book of Me that I’m working on this morning, in case you want to play too:
The Book of Me. In times of overwhelm and transition!
- Sweetie, when you feel overwhelmed, it’s probably because…
- It really helps to remember:
- It really helps to try:
- What you really want to avoid:
Play with us?
I’m going to be taking notes on this all day.
On the questions. On my relationship with the questions. On what happens if I get overwhelmed while thinking about the questions. On what happens when my project and I aren’t getting along.
Just to find out what’s there.
You can rewrite the questions. Or make up your own. It’s all play. There’s no way to do it wrong, because it’s an experiment.
Just like on Rally (Rally!), we cheer for each other, we don’t give unsolicited advice, and there are lots of snacks. Whee!
The campaign to bring back hibernation!
I am fairly certain that I am a bear. In my head.
Let it be known, for the record and for those reading who worry about me and take things literally, that I am very much not a bear. But you know what I would love?
A cave!
Berries!
And really, mostly: permission to hibernate.
What we want.
We, of course, being the Campaign to Bring Back Hibernation. Of which I am a founding member.
Much like my secret bear identity, this also exists primarily in my head.
Here are our demands! What we stand for! If we were standing. But we aren’t. That would take way too much effort.
Wouldn’t it be so lovely…
To stop when it’s dark. Or cold. Or dark and cold.
Or not to stop. But at least to have the option of stopping.
Designated warm, schnuggly, blanket-filled spaces to curl up in and hide out in.
Candles. Light. Time. To be cozy and have spaciousness at the same time.
To activate the time-space wormholes so as to be in bed more than usual. To hide without being embarrassed or annoyed about needing it.
To choose seclusion, knowing that seclusion is not isolation.
Just ask Metaphor Mouse
For me, hibernation is also a symbol.
For example, having a more conscious, intentional, playful, inquisitive relationship with time and this crazy idea that there is enough of it.
It’s all forms of intentional Not-Doing. Like meditation and napping and old Turkish lady yoga.
Hibernation is advanced sovereignty practice — the kind of thing I’d be able to do if I had more faith in my knowledge that rest is good, useful, healing, and at certain times more necessary than other times.
And it’s everything I’m already doing to take care of the borders of my kingdom. Like the Gracious No (not a band!). It’s a metaphor for choosing safety.
How to approach this more hibernation-friendly lifestyle?
I’m not entirely sure. Of course it’s definitely related to the Book of Me and the Dammit List.
I will be spending this week at the Rally (Rally!) figuring more of this out, since we’re giving special attention to Book-of-You-centered thinking.
One of the suggestions I’m taking from (the brilliant and inspiring) Cairene is to approach this experiment as if I were writing an almanac.
Because pretty much every November I’ll feel angsty, and in January I’m going to want to work less. And come August I’ll just want to write and write and write.
So I can sneak notes to my slightly future self. I can remind her that if X is happening, I’m not sad — just in need of extra hibernation. And if Y is happening, I need more Z.
Actually, I pretty much always need more Z.
We are having a parade!
For all of us who want and need permission to hibernate a little more, to hide a little longer.
I am imagining a fabulous parade, with ticker tape and confetti. We are all going as slowly as we like. Definitely not in a hurry.
In fact, maybe we’re just riding on floats or being pushed along in rolling carriages. Or riding tricycles. It’s rather a meandering parade.
We wear large sashes, like the suffragettes. And we have placards that say things like “Mmmm, tired” or “Schleeeeeeeeepy and proud!”
And we make bear paws! You know, pause. Paws! That gives me pause.
We wave permission slips. And maybe wear them too.
We have hot toddies. Or pots of tea. Warm cider. Giant sweaters. Fuzzy slippers. It’s marvelous.
Come join the campaign.
It works like this.
You have permission to feel anything you feel.
Tired and worn out? That sounds normal. Good grief. It’s January. A very acceptable thing to be going through.
Or maybe you feel excited and energized. Why not? The Hibernation Movement is a very thrilling thing to be a part of. We can use your vim and vigor.
You can wave a sign. Or not. Wear slogan-covered pajamas. Or not. Cheer as much as you like. Or call SILENT RETREAT and hide.
And comment zen for today.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
What I’d love: cheering and happiness for the Campaign to Bring Back Hibernation. Sign ideas. Outrageous slipper descriptions. Ridiculous acronyms!
What I’d rather not have today: advice, practical or otherwise. Or facts about bears.
That’s it. Yay for national hibernation week! And for my imaginary hibernation nation! And for yawning, stretching and pillows!