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.
And the Phrase of the Year prize goes to…
Alas, it’s not really the kind of prize one can look forward to, because it doesn’t go to a person.
No, the Phrase of the Year prize goes to the phrase itself.
And winning generally has to do with how useful a particular phrase is in resolving something in the business on the pirate ship that causes me stress, resentment, duress, or costs me insane amounts of money.
The 2009 winner.
Ah, 2009. Some of you probably remember the Phrase of the Year.
That was the year of working with a large staff crew, and no sense of what they were actually doing. Not knowing how to be a captain.
Lots of tossing and turning and waking up in the middle of the night wondering.
And then not wanting to nag but not knowing how to ask-without-nagging, and not being able to stand the not knowing.
The phrase of the year turned out to be:
Hey, can I get a progress report on this, please?
Clean, clear, not obnoxious, and something to say before the point of being pissed off about something not being done. An excellent Phrase of the Year.
So good that I didn’t even need to use it in 2010.
I was completely ready to be all “Hey, progress report?” in 2010. But I didn’t need to.
It was as if the essence of that magical phrase had already permeated the culture of the ship to such an extent that it had rendered itself unnecessary.
For one thing, we stopped having a crew. It’s just me and the First Mate piloting the ship, with some strategic helper mice who function as advisors.
And we replaced the disastrous $600/month bookkeeper with one who is competent. And cares. At $80/month. Huh.
I was totally ready and in position to ask for progress reports, but she reports in all the time — with enthusiasm and with bright, curious, useful questions. So I haven’t had the chance.
The 2010 Phrase of the Year also turned out to be about progress reports, though.
Mine.
My biggest screw-ups this year involved not sharing with other people where I was in my own process.
Even though I’m on permanent email sabbatical, we get hundreds and hundreds of questions requests each week. And there are always some that the First Mate doesn’t know what to do with.
He brings them to Drunk Pirate Council, and then I sit with them.
But I really sit with them. I meditate on them and brain-dance on them, and I think about how it fits with the culture of what we do here.
This takes time. And most of the uncomfortable situations and misunderstandings that happened this year came from not telling people that this is what was happening.
Here’s the 2010 Phrase of the Year:
Havi’s going to take some time to meditate on this, and we will get you an answer as soon as we have it. 🙂
Classic example of a time this was really needed.
A woman wrote asking if she could apply to the Week of Biggification retreat and not stay with us at the hotel, and what the cost of that might be.
To me, this was a culture question. And a useful one:
What is the culture of this shared experience, and how much of it is directly a part of being fully immersed in a very specific and other-worldly environment, eating together, having spontaneous strategy-and-silliness sessions in the late hours…?
So I had to think about group dynamics, about different ways it might work, unanticipated problems or challenges that might come up as a result.
I was curious. We mapped out options. We hired two different consultants, thinking this may well come up again, and I’d like to have a strategy for how it might work.
But we forgot to tell the Asker of the Useful Question what we were doing, so she was left hanging.
Not okay.
By the time we got back to her, she was feeling annoyed and frustrated.
And after having spent nine hours and $750 trying to come up with plans for how it could work, I didn’t have it in me to put in more time trying to explain that we hadn’t actually been blowing her off.
Even though she deserved a fair and loving response, and a clear apology. I am so sorry. It wasn’t fair. I screwed up.
My hope is that 2010 Phrase of the Year is going to help me with situations like this.
We can let people know where we are with their questions.
And that more time involved in putting together a response doesn’t mean that we care less. It means that we care more. Maybe we can share more about the process too.
I already have the Phrase of the Year for 2011.
Which is kind of hilarious because the year hasn’t started yet.
But I know what it’s going to be.
That’s a terrific idea! Why don’t you do that?
Instead of spending this year feeling anxious and overwhelmed every time someone makes a suggestion for another fabulous thing I could do, we’re going to skip that part.
Instead, we’ll go straight into encouraging other people to make those beautiful things happen. And be happy for them. And help where we can.
Turning pain into knowledge.
Sometimes when I think back on various Phrases of the Year, it’s hard not to think of all the hurt.
The misunderstandings, the pain, the missed connections. The ways that I screwed up. The residual frustration about all the ways that other people … weren’t able to be the people I wanted them to be, which is not their fault.
All that time spent being annoyed about how hard it is when you can’t get milk from a stone. My focus was in the wrong place.
But here’s what the Phrase of the Year reminds me to do:
I am allowed to have my grief and my pain. And I can also look at all that agony and remember that it’s business school tuition.
Instead of a diploma, I can just frame the Phrase of the Year and put it on my wall. And look forward to the next one, because it will be unbelievably useful.
Raising a toast.
To all the wonderful, helpful, sovereign phrases of 2011 that are still to come.
May they find us swiftly, with ease and grace.
And may there be lots of toast.
And comment zen for today.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
We let people have their own experience, and we don’t give unsolicited advice.
Celebrating the Phrase of the Year with me is welcome. Drinks! And add some phrases of your own if you like. The more the merrier.
Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.
The Flow Chart of Spaciousness
This is something that accidentally got invented at the Week of Biggification program in Asheville.
I said a thing, probably in response to a question. Then Frank drew it as a flow chart.
Then we all decided we needed to get it tattooed onto our foreheads.
Which didn’t happen because we had a board meeting which turned into a plank meeting which turned into a late night boozefest, and then we all fell asleep.
But I got Richard to make it pretty for us, and here it is.
It’s a flow chart. Of spaciousness.
And that’s where I’m headed.
Anyway, as I close out the year, and the pirate ship that is my business is in Dry Dock, I’ve been thinking about what I want this coming year to feel like.
About what destinations I’m thinking of. What beacons I’m following. But mostly: how does it feel?
And the Flow Chart of Spaciousness kind of sums it up.
In fact, I spent a good part of yesterday plugging things into this, giggling hysterically and discovering that this actually is a pretty good way to make decisions and assess what is needed.
So enjoy. And use. And play. And tattoo wherever you’d like, or not.
Very Personal Ads #77: Or a Wheel Reekend.
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.
Even when the asking thing feels weird and conflicted.
Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.
And now it’s my Sunday ritual for clarity and remembering and stuff like that. Yay, ritual!
Let us dooo eeeet.
Thing 1: a real weekend!
Here’s what I want:
Oh I want this so much it almost makes me cry.
I have not had a real weekend since August.
Four of those weekends I was teaching. The rest have been spent on my Kitchen Table program.
Trouble-shooting challenges, brainstorming solutions, planning the transition to the new year, rewriting the manual.
And then all weekend I’ve been doing that too. And I am done.
A weekend! For me! Please! And the most frustrating thing is knowing that it’s in my hands. It’s not like I’m waiting for someone else to okay it.
Ways this could work:
Even though there is still so much left to be done, I can remember that there is often lots left to be done. And that it will be okay.
My gentleman friend could whisk me away to a land with no computers.
I’ve already scheduled in lots of days off in 2011, and always after I teach on weekends.
Plotting and planning! But not today!
My commitment.
To figure out what is needed.
To reevaluate what my time is for. To appreciate what it means — for everyone involved — when I give it to myself.
To put out the gwish here and trust that a perfect, simple solution will make itself known. And if not, I’ll keep thinking on it.
A postscript to this one: I would prefer not to receive advice on this.
Thing 2: words!
Here’s what I want:
There is a completely genius idea that is living in my head right now and driving me crazy.
Right now it’s just zooming around in these amorphous ever-changing fireworks patterns. I am only catching glimpses, and it is magnificent.
So I need it to slow down and translate itself into words that can be written down, because that’s how I process information.
Ways this could work:
Ten minutes of Shiva Nata, of course. Since that’s where the brilliant idea came from to begin with.
I can ask for more information. Or for a clearer sense of what the patterns are.
Or for a tuning fork.
My commitment.
To appreciate what comes.
To be curious.
To talk to the monsters.
To dance dance dance!
Thing 3: announcements and timing…
Here’s what I want:
I have three things to announce to the Havi’s Announcing a Thing group this week (sign-up for that lives on the events page, if you’re interested).
So a bunch of things need to line up and fall into place for that.
Ways this could work:
I am invoking ease, smoothness, and efficiency.
And using Maryann’s secret play date.
Other than that, I’m not sure. But open to pleasant surprises.
My commitment.
To bring as much lightheartedness to this as I can stand.
To dance on it, walk on it, write on it, and let it happen in the best way possible.
Thing 4: smooth transition to Dry Dock.
Here’s what I want:
The Kitchen Table website is going into Dry Dock for a few days while we make a bunch of back-end fixes and set things up for Year Three.
In the meantime we have a hidden space for everyone to keep playing and checking in with each other.
And we have tech pirates working on trying to make the fixes happen as quickly as possible.
Ways this could work:
I would just like this to be an ease-filled transition.
My commitment.
Patience. Trust. Love. Stuff like that.
Or if I can’t manage any of that, to give myself permission to freak the hell out for a while.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted a word for something that isn’t a goal or a mission or a task, and got it. Destination. That’s what we’re using for now.
Then there was an ask about the Great Desk Switcheroo for the Playground. And a solution has presented itself that is not even slightly what I was imagining. Huh.
I was stalled on my 2011 schedule, and that got taken care of. It’s done and I love it.
And the last thing was seclusion. That’s worked pretty well. I said no to … well, most things that came my way. Avoidance mouse! It was great. Thank you.
Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.
- Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!
Stuff I’d rather not have:
- The word “manifest”.
- To be told how I should be asking for things.
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given unsolicited advice.
Wishing love and good things for your Very Personal Ads! So glad for everyone doing this with me.
Friday Chicken #125: the chicken that was
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.
I couldn’t think of what to call this one, so I looked up the chicken from exactly a year ago today.
It was Special Zombie Chicken (which should totally be a band), and didn’t give me any ideas. But it was kind of fun to read.
Maybe that will be our new ritual for the year… the chicken that was.
Anyway. It’s (almost practically) Friday! We’re here! Well done, all of us.
The hard stuff
Endings.
There is so much ambient crap in the air this time of year.
And even for someone like me who doesn’t have a television and avoids news media in most forms.
It’s so pervasive and so… loud.
Both the forced celebratory bits, and then the regrets-and-assessments part of ending the year.
I like pathways, transitions, passages. I like closing what needs to be closed and opening new openings.
But the underlying cultural hum can really get on my nerves.
The usual questions.
So we already know I dislike answering questions about what I do or what I’m doing.
No, as a matter of fact, I do not have plans for the holidays.
Still Jewish. Just like last year. Crazy, I know.
Cue outsider syndrome. And yes, it is completely unfair to both have it and be bored by it at the same time, but that’s kind of how outsider syndrome works.
Anyway, I wasn’t expecting to have a chip on my shoulder about this, and it kind of caught me by surprise.
Carving out time for not-doing: more complicated than it sounds.
My big wish for this week was seclusion, and for the most part we managed to make that happen.
But oh I had no idea how challenging this one would be.
When people are in their stuff.
But they don’t know they’re in their stuff, and they have not developed the ability to take responsibility for their stuff.
There is not much you can do in this situation, other than:
a) give them a hug.
b) meet your frustration with understanding and love.
c) meet their frustration with understanding and love.
This is one of the great challenges of … oh, being alive. I know I’m getting better at it, but man, it’s still a lot of work sometimes.
Working like mad to finish a thing in time!
This was mostly fun, but it was definitely way more work than I like to take on.
The ten day cold that knocked me out after Sacramento meant that I hardly got anything done on all the stuff that needs to get announced for 2011.
So this week involved a lot of cramming. Many rounds of Drunk Pirate Council with the First Mate. And keeping track of all sorts of details while we ran around and made stuff happen.
It was crazy and chaotic and sometimes hilarious, and I’m really glad to be nearly through.
The good stuff
Endings! The good kind.
The group leaders in my Kitchen Table program had our last call of the year together (we meet every month), and it was just so much fun.
If I ran a firm where we all worked in the same building, this is what I’d imagine our New Year’s party would be like.
We giggled and threw things at each other (somehow being on the phone is not as big an impediment to this sort of thing as one might imagine), and generally enjoyed being in each other’s company.
I feel very fortunate to have such a terrific crew of wise, loving people in my life, who have become both friends and helper mice.
Secret play date! Secret play date!
Doing Maryann’s secret play date on Toozday totally saved my week.
I’ve been using the approach of play/art/ten-minute-chunks all week to get stuff done.
And I’m pretty sure it’s the main reason I haven’t gone completely batty from trying to write four HATS and brunch seventeen thousand things all at once.*
* HAT = Havi’s Announcing a Thing. What I call a “sales page”. Brunching = launching. See the Glossary for all the other stuff I say that doesn’t make sense.
Metaphor mouse is my new best friend.
Came up with three brand new metaphors this week.
So fast! Not only is metaphor mouse the most dreamy superhero that ever was, he is also super speedy speedmouse.
I cannot even tell you how much relief this brings me. And my designer, who was waiting on me to tell him what all these things were going to be called.
When people interact with their stuff and find their way through.
Watching people at the Kitchen Table model what it’s like to work through the hard and get to the good.
It’s completely inspiring.
There is nothing I like better than getting to watch people who have really and truly assimilated and internalized something I teach, and are applying it and getting results.
My heart is so full and happy.
Brisk winter walking in crisp winter air.
When it’s not raining.
Love it.
It clears my head.
Plus one day I ran into Elizabeth and Atlas. Hooray!
And yesterday I met the most adorable tiny person all in pink. And her mother, who was also in pink. And that was fun too.
Progress!
I finished the 2011 timetables.
Updated the events page.
Am in the process of announcing the announcements to the shhhhh Havi’s announcing a thing group (if you’re not on the list, you can sign up on the events page).
Movement. Yay. Done! Excitement! Anticipation. Such a wonderful thing to see all these things that I’ve been messing around with for months come into form.
Erev Zombie Yule, y’all.
Tonight! It’s Zombie Yule.
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 Christine:
Sneaky Snack Pirate.
I love this! I want to be a sneaky snack pirate! I also want some sneaky snacks.
Anyway, they’re doing special Zombie Yule shows all weekend. Except of course that it’s really just one guy.
Also, I should add that I almost called this chicken “revenge of the unicorn”, which really should be a band, and that’s from here, by way of Nathan, who is much-adored by me.
And some of the lovely presents that arrived for the Playground this week.
A secret note from Kim.
Mugs and pfeffernüsse from Hope.
Flowers!
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.
postscripting to say: There are now four spots left at the 2011 Kitchen Table. Last chance to apply until next December. Here’s the link to the backdoor page (password: speedymouse). xox
I went on a secret play date.
Yesterday I took part in Maryann’s Secret Play Date.
It’s a thing she does on her blog every Toozday and it is my favorite.
Part of Maryann’s genius is that she believes things like marketing and business planning and making stuff happen (all this falls under the category that I call biggification) cannot be divorced from creativity.
So she has secret play dates where you get to work on your business, but not in the way you normally would.
With art supplies! Like construction paper and glitter. Or on the floor. Challenging your pattern of creating. For one hour. Just to see what happens.
Here are my notes.
.
Defining the mission.
I was determined to finalize my 2011 teaching calendar. And really, the everything calendar.
The question: How are we going to make calendaring fun and playful?
Hot pink index cards spread out in a sequence! How else?
Maryann had decided to spend her playtime yesterday alternating between working on her project and doodling. Ten minutes work-play, ten minutes doodle-play.
I loved the idea of alternating, and wasn’t in a doodle frame of mind.
But it occurred to me that my creative play happens best on the physical level.
So I decided to alternate between ten minute periods of doing, and ten minute periods of doing something with my body. Thinky play followed by body play.
Thinky play. Round 1.
First ten minutes. Go!
The plan: decide on dates and times for a new course I’m teaching. And come up with a name/metaphor.
Results.
Wow. Ten minutes went by ridiculously fast, but it also got me the dates and two possible metaphors.
That was completely unexpected. Usually this stuff takes forever. Knowing I only had ten minutes did induce a state of laser focus, but maybe I just overestimate these things?
Maybe it takes longer because I have too many distractions? Anyway, yay!
Body play. Round 1.
The plan: use the living room as a jungle gym.
And breathe.
Results.
My body really liked this, especially my shoulders which were already tired after ten minutes on the computer.
Interesting. I normally only notice shoulder stuff after hours of work, but it turns out that after ten minutes, I’m already really wanting to stretch them out.
Also, the ten minutes seemed to last forever, which was really weird. I often do yoga for really long periods of time, so ten minutes should be nothing but it just felt like it was never going to end.
Thinky play. Round 2.
The plan: update the events page.
Results.
I hardly got anything done. But I learned something fascinating.
It turns out that the process of moving events from the upcoming list to the already-happened list takes way more time than I’d realized.
In fact, there is no reason that I should be doing that. Maybe the First Mate could do it once a month, or we could do it at Drunk Pirate Council.
Body play. Round 2.
The plan: tramp on the trampoline!
Results.
Again, breaks are crazy long, when you aren’t used to taking breaks.
I mean, I thought I did take breaks but it turns out I either go to the bathroom or have a glass of water or stretch for a minute.
Tramping is the kind of thing I will usually happily do for 45 minutes. This time I kept wondering why the bell wasn’t going off.
Body loved it, though. And I had some good ideas about scheduling. Bounce!
The last two minutes I stretched out my calves on the stairs and did a long, slow, lazy forward bend, to which my body said yes yes yes do that more often please.
Thinky play. Round 3.
The plan: back to the events page. Let’s put some up!
Results.
This round was magic.
I felt extremely energized (thanks to the break). And there was so much enthusiasm and excitement for the various Rallies and Gwish Days we’ll be doing this year.
Got way more done than expected. Ten minutes whooshed by in a daze.
Body play. Round 3.
The plan: a walking meditation.
Results.
This is one of my favorite mindfulness practices that I hardly ever actually do.
It was interesting how hard it was for me to commit to walking slowly. I wanted to pick things up and put things away.
Which made me think that another body round might well be a variation on Barbara’s ten things or even sprinting around the block.
When I got to the bookshelves, I felt a very strong urge to light a stick of incense and write spells with it on the walls.
It was fun and playful, and reminded me of another ritual I used to do and love but that got lost this year in all the traveling and the busy.
This round went by much more quickly for me, even though I was moving extremely slowly. Or maybe because I was moving extremely slowly. Time warp!
And then a break from taking breaks.
Lunch with the gentleman friend! With freshly baked homemade Hoppy House sourdough with caraway seeds!
Then I did another round, just to see what happened.
I found that I really wanted to use my break-time for other things, like sweeping. Or trying on costumes.
So maybe next time I might try alternating ten minutes PLAY with ten minutes BODY with ten minutes PLAY and then ten minutes DO WHATEVER YOU WANT.
And then I went and sat at a cafe and just worked. No secret-play-dating. Just work.
Results.
Not being on Secret Play Date sucks!
I could really feel the not fun, and the body tightness, and the point where I start to lose my brain.
Pretty soon my body called on its role as executive decision-maker and said Enough! Schluss!
Where I’m taking this.
You know, I’ve been on Maryann’s case to do something like this since maybe June.
Because I thought it would be good for her. And for her people. And because it’s a really terrific idea.
But I had no idea it would have such a profound effect on me.
I don’t like the idea of regular non-secret-play-date working anymore.
So we’re going to have to experiment.
Maybe not always doing the alternating-ten-minutes thing, of course. Next time I might do a collage. And then I might do something completely different.
But it will involve play. And it will involve regular stopping and resting and reviewing.
It will be like being on Rally (Rally!). Simple and beautiful and fun.
Play with me! Play with Maryann (you don’t have to wait until next Toozday). The worst thing that happens is we’ll learn what doesn’t work, and that’s useful too.