The Fluent Self

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?

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

I am a professional hider.

by Havi Brooks | Nov 29, 2010 | stuff I think about

Oh, the art of avoiding answering direct questions. I find it thrilling, fascinating and exceedingly difficult.

Aside from answering a question with another question, and mastering the art of quick subject changes, it’s hard to know what say, other than Awkward Stuttering.

My goal is to eventually be able to pick and choose from a selection of responses that:

are not rude and not boring
do not actually share personal information
allow me to change the subject quickly and easily.

Not there yet. But I’m playing.

And I’m playing by messing around and inventing ridiculous answers — that I don’t actually currently have the balls to give — to my five least favorite questions.

Well, the five that don’t have to do with how come I’m not moving to Bolivia.

My five current Least Favorite Questions.

#5. What are you doing for [insert holiday]?

Of course people are just being polite and making conversation. It’s sweet.

The thing is, I don’t actually like most holidays. And I don’t want to talk about why. Or about my plans or lack thereof. So I get flustered.

#4. Where are you from?

Amna has already summed up why this is such a distressing question.

And a complicated one for me personally to answer, even without the leftover outsider complex from having had a foreign accent in every language that I speak.

#3. What’s your name?

Okay. I realize this one is a completely innocuous question.

But. I have a really unusual name. And at cafes — or wherever people ask for your name so they can yell it out to get your attention, I feel uncomfortable.

Especially with the “internet famous” thing. If 30,000 people are reading this, at least some of them are in Portland. Maintaining anonymity is a big deal for me.

#2. What do you do?

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Why should I have to know that? I’m doing it right now. It pays the bills, I have fun, why do I have to define it?

#1. People pay for that?

This question is more funny than annoying, since this blog supports our entire household.

But I hate the idea of my people being asked this when they’re still experimenting with figuring out their thing, before they’re in the position to find hostile questions laughable.

Anyway.

My goal is to be able to smile, take a breath, say something, and then ask a curious, interested question that allows for a change in subject. It’s my practice. But right now I’m just being silly.

Here we go.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving (or holiday of choice)?”

Giving thanks.

Jam.

Being exceptional.

Playing Twister.

Watching people eat pie.

Have you ever ridden in a hot air balloon?

“Where are you from?”

Here.

A pirate ship.

I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.

“What’s your name?”

Singapore.

Valentine’s Day.

Harmonica.

Subliminal.

The Captain.

Surprise!

Blueberry.

Smurf.

Swoosh.

Twiglet.

“What do you do for a living?”

I play with dolls.

I wear costumes.

I talk to monsters. I collect monsters. I design monster choreographies.

I run a preschool. No, a secret preschool. No, a secret preschool for grownups.

I think about muffins. I’m a spy. I do things by proxy.

I have a secret benefactor. I am a secret benefactor. I like the word benefactor.

I whisper to plants. I am a product placement. I swim through air.

Do? I try not to do things.

I hide. I’m a professional hider. Yes, from things. But also hiding things from others.

I’m so sorry. I never tell anyone what I do.

I tell people about my dreams. Yes, they are very interesting dreams. No, I won’t tell you. That service is only available for paying customers.

I build castles. In the air.

I run away.

Oh, this and that.

“Do people pay you for that?”

There is only one answer to this that I know of, aside from laughing so hard you cry:

You’d be surprised.

And then you ask them what they’re doing for Thanksgiving. Kidding. But change the subject. Quickly.

And the not very zen comment zen for today.

We’re having fun today.

Anyone who is not capable of playing, or recommends resources for learning how to craft an elevator pitch, or variations on the tired “I help [target market X] [solve problem Y]” does not get to play.

I’m serious. Solving the problem is not the point. The point is play.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. That’s what allows us to play.

Very Personal Ads #73: Slipper? I hardly even know her.

by Havi Brooks | Nov 28, 2010 | my personal practice

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 weekly ritual for clarity and remembering and stuff like that. Yay, ritual!

Let us dooo eeeet.

Thing 1: it is the season for slippers, I believe.

Here’s what I want:

To find absurdly warm slippers.

These will be kept by the bed, so that the transition from cozy flannel sheets to hot bath can be slightly less jarring.

Ways this could work:

I can ask you guys for recommendations.

And prowl Etsy.

And do a little slipper dance.

My commitment.

Receptivity to finding the right thing in unexpected places.

Thing 2: order and ease.

Here’s what I want:

Another madcap week coming up (it does seem as though I say that kind of a lot, doesn’t it?).

Teaching and clients and recovering from the Great Ducking Out (which was awesome, by the way), and flying to Sacramento to teach some more.

There is so much ketchup and regular work-stuff that needs to happen.

I’m wishing for ways in which clean, organic, usable forms can emerge (order!) and for this to happen without resistance (ease!).

Ways this could work:

Not sure yet.

I’m open to surprises.

My commitment.

Lots of Shiva Nata, for the epiphanies, but also to help bring new patterns in and untangle the old ones. Lots of writing about that process.

Asking questions and finding out what is possible.

And playing at the Playground until it all falls into place.

Thing 3: little pockets of weekend, please!

Here’s what I want:

I’m not really getting much of a proper weekend this weekend because of a bunch of fires that need putting out (god, where is metaphor mouse when you need him?).

And next weekend I’m teaching in California and visiting the un-laws.

So I really need some weekend in this week.

Ways this could work:

Wouldn’t that be nice to know.

My commitment.

To go to where the water is.

To remember that rest is the first duty of the queen.

To trust that this can happen.

Thing 4: memorization.

Here’s what I want:

Oh, I have a few of my websites that I’m avoiding because they just got new passwords and I haven’t memorized them yet.

Ways this could work:

Use the plane ride.

Use the force.

Use music.

Use Shiva Nata.

Make a game of this?

My commitment.

To remember that the sooner this happens, the less stuck and resentment there will be.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted spaciousness this past week, and that’s exactly what I got. The force field was totally working.

Then I wanted progress on next steps for the Great Rebrunching of my Kitchen Table program. And that happened too.

My big hope was to make progress on a big secret mission, and, thanks to the Rally (Rally!), progress was made. Not as much visible, external progress as I’d hoped, but so much internal movement.

So I’m ready for the next piece, and that in and of itself is a big thing. Hooray.

And I wanted superhero gloves, and still haven’t asked for them. Superhero gloves! Let’s do it.

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 #121: twenty won what?

by Havi Brooks | Nov 26, 2010 | updates & announcements

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.

Is it Friday? I couldn’t tell.

Also, I don’t want to talk about it.

But here we are. Friday Friday Friday Chicken Chicken Chicken.

Hopa! That was me tossing a shot glass over my head.

The hard stuff

Busy busy busy busy. More busy.

Between closing out stuff for the year, the Great Ducking Out, teaching in Sacramento next week …

There’s just a lot going on.

I want a nap! I want to be tucked into bed! And to have someone bring me tea, please.

It was colder in Portland than in Alaska this week.

Come on, weather.

And then the heating stopped working at the Playground.

The day the Rally (Rally!) was supposed to start.

Chaos and confusion, much waiting around, and then some poor guy had to spend three hours on the icy roof taking care of it.

American Thanksgiving.

I know I escaped 99% of it because of the Great Ducking Out, but bleargh.

There was so much ambient cultural crappiness in the air this week. So much grumbly cranky resistance and unhappiness. It’s hard work just being around that, even when you aren’t actually in it.

Mack the Wife is not going to get better.

My poor laptop is on its very last legs. It is time to do something about this but I keep not doing it. Total denial.

Speaking of denial, I’m not ready for December.

No idea where this year went, but man, I need to magic up some time to take it all in.

The good stuff

The Great Ducking Out.

It really was that great.

Well named, me.

At the Playground!

Shivanauttery and epiphanies and projectizing and blankets and silly hats and superpowers and pie!

Yay.

All the lovely people I got to spend time with at the Playground this week.

What a joy!

Absolutely delightful people. Full of smart, interesting ideas. I’ve pretty much just been giggling the entire week.

Doing things my way.

Instead of falling into the pattern of my usual Thanksgiving plan of run awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Taking the time to consciously set things up to be sweet. That was useful and important.

Also: I got to enjoy a hilarious, fabulous picnic on the Playground floor, with twelve fun people and extremely good things to eat.

Schmurphling.

It’s a thing we do at the Playground. It involves being really terrible at tossing stuffed animals and making whooshing sounds. It makes me happy.

The Rally isn’t over yet!

Usually we end on Thursday evening, but we started late so this time we’re going all the way through this afternoon.

More projectizing for meeeeeeeeeee! Plus some of the Rallions promised/threatened to bring growlers of beer to help us projectize. Best. Ever.

I discovered a new superpower.

That I have.

Which actually turns out to be not new at all, but I didn’t know I had it, so it’s extra neat.

Nice.

And … playing live at the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week’s band is the unfortunately named…

Catastrophe Catastrophe Disaster

They stick with what they know, I guess. Except it’s really just one guy.

And some of the lovely presents that arrived this week.

All sorts of neat things from the Rallions. And special Rally pie from Casey.

And a monster pillow from Karen (thank you!).

Probably other things as well, but I haven’t been to the post office because it’s minus seventeen million degrees outside and also I’m at the Rally.

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.

### FIN ###

77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck: 2010

by Havi Brooks | Nov 25, 2010 | my personal practice, stuff I think about

I did this last year and the year before, so now it’s a thing. Tradition!

Backstory. I feel very uncomfortable with the various forms of culturally acceptable Forced Gratitude that show up this time of year.

And, at the same time, it really is such a beautiful and useful thing to stop and breathe and say oh about all the things that are working.

Appreciating the good and acknowledging the hard is the weekly ritual anyway (huzzah for the Friday Chicken!), but it’s nice to have a thing.

So we play the “I don’t have to like anything but I am also allowed to casually-but-earnestly appreciate things that are not horrible” game, also known as the Lentil Game.

How it works.

You have two cups. One is full of lentils.* The other is empty.

*Or something that is not lentils. The lentil part isn’t important.

The first time I did this there were seventy seven. So that’s how many I’m sticking with.

Each thing that doesn’t completely suck gets to jump over to to the other cup.

When the cup that was empty is full of lentils and the lentil cup is empty, you feel better.
Works every time.

(And it doesn’t matter if you forget some of the good stuff — it’s practicing.)

Havi’s current list of 77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck

In no particular order …

The Great Ducking Out! Instead of suffering through Thanksgiving or furiously avoiding it, I win! I get to wear silly hats with smart, sweet, interesting people.
Silly hats. All hats, really. God, I love hats.
The “always looks good in hats” gene that I inherited from the Brooks side of the family.
The costumery in the Treasure Room at the Playground where all the hats are.
“Ohmygod”, the Playground. Everything that came together this year to make that happen.
Roller Derby! Every single thing about Roller Derby, including drag names and pink mustache socks. Sponsoring the Guns N Rollers. Teaching coordination techniques at the Playground.
Red flannel sheets.
Hot baths with epsom salts.
Grilled cheese.
Also, pickles. Yes, please!
Tramp tramp tramp tramp tramp tramp tramp on the tiny trampoline.
Long walks.
Streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch. Old turkish lady yoga and other forms of happily rolling around on the floor..
Hoppy House. It’s extra-hoppy! I love living here so much I can hardly stand it.
Home. It’s my home. Deep sigh of relief.
My (extremely hot) red sovereignty boots.
And my sovereignty ring.
And the concept, in general.
Superhero gloves, even though I don’t have any yet.
The Week of Biggification and how much fun it was to spend an entire week running around a giant hotel brandishing our magic wands.
Each and every time I realize that my baby business isn’t a baby anymore (five years and counting).
Our awesome CPA who wears bowties and knows how to make me laugh and doesn’t at all mind being associated with a pirate ship.
Ooh, having Drunk Pirate Council instead of “meetings”.
Not ever having meetings.
And, of course, Metaphor Mouse. He has gotten me out of all kinds of scrapes this year. And meetings. Bless him for that.
Closing doors. And then some other doors.
Nearly two years without email — I could not be happier about that.
Rituals and transitions.
Sunday Very Personal Ads.
Friends.
Like Hiro.
And Michelle.
And Cairene.
And Shannon.
Going to bed at 8:30 in the evening, because I can.
Delicious uninterrupted sleep.
The San Francisco Giants win the WORLD SERIES! There are not enough exclamation points in the world to express how elated I feel about this.
Writing.
Having a place to put all that writing.
This wonderfully safe, sweet, loving place where we get to hang out that is so different from oh, the rest of the internet.
I was able to explain about not going to Bolivia, and people got it, and it was okay. That was a beautiful and astonishing thing to experience.
Shiva Nata.
And all the shivanauts.
Seeing your patterns and then not needing them anymore because you’re already bringing in the new ones.
Brain-melting epiphanies.
I cannot wait for the next teacher training. There are zap-filled things that will happen.
Speaking of which, this crazy world of the future thing. People are coming to the teacher training from England and France and Australia. The internet. It’s magic.
The amazing, thoughtful, kind, hilarious, fascinating people I have met through this blog.
Like Sanders, my favorite storyteller (and one day he will have a website and I will point you there).
And Jesse — I get to hug her today.
And Maryann, who gives serious thought to everything, and also knows how to play and always has the best glasses.
So many! I am the luckiest.
Also, thank you, J.J., for making me do that thing. You were right.
And thank you, Maria, for teaching me to answer questions by pretending that I’m five years old.
The Kindle app for the iPhone. I have hundreds of books in my pocket. Childhood dream: fulfilled!
Trust. Getting better at it.
Giving myself permission to just sit and enjoy a leisurely picnic — when everyone I know is rushing past me to the top of the mountain. This is still one of the hardest things for me. But I’m doing it. Counts for something.
The dammit list.
The Nuevo Mexico food cart.
Oh, Portland. I love you.
Working from home.
But having pirate queen quarters at the Playground.
Amy’s hilarious and beautiful permission slips.
Costumes.
The fact that total strangers send me costumes! To the Playground! All the time! Incredible. Beautiful. Thank you.
Snail mail.
The giant box of thank you — letters people have sent to me and Selma. Just knowing it’s there makes the hard days less hard.
Doing things my way.
The world not falling apart when I do things my way, much to the surprise of all of my monsters.
My gentleman friend.
Who just so happens to also be the most amazing cook I know.
Selma. My business partner is a duck.
The crazed but charming Schmoppet. Schmoppet! I still do not know his name.
Also the Schmurphle. And the process of schmurphling. I cannot explain what that is so you will have to come to a Rally (Rally!) and experience it for yourself.
The insane amount of actual work as well as massive progress on destuckifying that happens at a Rally.
All of the Rallions. Or Rallygators. Or whatever they are calling themselves today. Playmates! Secret spy ring! Co-conspirators in silliness!
Possibility. Everywhere.

And I will repeat what I said last year:

Even though there are lots of things that I’m not feeling grateful for right now — some of which I’m even feeling seriously upset and resentful about — I’m glad that I have room in me for a variety of feelings and emotions.

And you. I’m glad you’re here.

That is all. Thank you.

Ginger streusel: possibly on the list.

by Havi Brooks | Nov 24, 2010 | my personal practice

Guess what tomorrow is?

The Day of the Lentil Game That Does Not Always Involve Lentils.

Oh yes.

Three years running makes it an official tradition, apparently.

Each year on American Thanksgiving, I come up with my annual list of 77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck.

And then we play a game that possibly involves lentils but does not have to.

It’s my way of avoiding the messy cultural stuff, the Perils of Forced Gratitude (weirdly enough, it’s really just one guy) and all sorts of other things that I dislike.

And to sneak into some genuine appreciation. But only if I feel like it.

I’ve been doing this for years, and this will be the third year that we do it here.

This time will be slightly different.

This is because I am at the Rally (Rally!), projectizing up a storm.

And not just any Rally but the Great Ducking Out.

The list of 77 might take me slightly longer to compile and I might need additional lentils, but will I definitely still share it all here. Tradition is tradition!

And then Selma and I will hang out with the Rallions while they eat extremely drool-worthy pie.

Brandied pear dark chocolate ginger streusel pie. Salted vanilla caramel apple pie.

It is tragic that you are not here with us. But maybe next year. Would be grand.

In the meantime…

Here is the 2008 list of 77 Things.

And here is the one from last year.

If you’d like to begin compiling your own list, (and looking for lentils), go for it.

If you would like to create a ridiculous pie or put on a hat, that is welcome too.

And I will wish you a safe and happy being-where-you-are for all of us, and ease-filled traveling for everyone who is on the way to somewhere else. See you tomorrow!

Also, I must share a photo of the hat-collection part of the Costumery at the Playground. This is where I’m getting all my hats.

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