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.

I am Resistance Mouse!

The day before yesterday I was watching myself studiously avoiding a thing, in a variety of clever and fabulous ways.

After taking the appropriate amount of time (ninety seconds?) to admire my smoking hot avoidance skills, I went back to what I know. Namely:

  1. I know that avoiding something generally means that I care about it more than I think.
  2. And that talking to the walls and finding out what the stuck and the resistance need is crazy useful.

But I didn’t want to do it.

Specifically, me-who-was-in-resistance really didn’t like the idea, and was getting pretty vocal about that. Here’s what happened.

We begin by not beginning.

Note! Because this is one of those awkward conversations between me and … myself, I am referring to the me who is in resistance (but doesn’t want to talk about it) as Resistance Mouse Me.

As in, the version of me who is a resistance mouse.

Resistance Mouse Me (RMM): Nooooooooooooooo! No talking! No!
Me: Wow. You sound really upset. Are you okay?

RMM: If we talk about this you will chastise me and I don’t want to be chastised. It’s not fair! It isn’t! I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just recovering. I’m just tired.
Me: Of course you are, sweetie. I am not going to chastise you. I am not interested in chastising anyone.

RMM: Are you sure?
Me: Listen, I love you. And I am not trying to change you. What do you need to feel safe? What would help you feel better?

RMM: Really? Because I don’t know if I trust you.
Me: If there is something that would help you feel better so you’re not in the guilt and pain, then I want to know so we can make sure you get it.

Expansiveness and limits.

RMM: Really?
Me: Of course. I hadn’t realized you were feeling so fearful. I’m sorry. I I know there’s always a good reason for avoidance.

RMM: I need expansiveness. And spaciousness. And time. Lots and lots of time. I want to go to the hot pools. I want a massage from A. I want to relax and not feel guilty! But I DO feel guilty.

Me: Aw, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Where is this guilt coming from?
RMM: Me! I want to be a helper mouse! I can do this project and help you finish it, if I just buckle down. But I don’t want to.
Me: What if we give you a permission slip to not have to?

RMM: But then who will get this project done? And don’t say another version of you/me, because even if we are multiple aspects of one person, there are still only 24 hours in the stupid day. Someone has to do it!

Me: You are right. There are only 24 hours. That’s true. And … what else is true?

What else is true?

RMM: That I don’t have to do everything myself.

Me: Uh huh. And?

RMM: That there is support everywhere. That when I am rested and not tangled up in guilt, everything will go faster.

And it’s okay if it takes a while. But also that we will both feel soooo much better when it’s done.

But it doesn’t have to be done by me. I get it but I also don’t get it.

Me: Well, let’s treat this as an experiment.

What if …

First I make a list right now of what needs doing.

And then we take you to the hot pools. And then you let me look at what has already been done so far and make a time estimate of how long it might take. And then we take you for a walk.

And then I spend 25 minutes editing decorating the document we already have. Would that work?

Promise that you won’t work too hard.

RMM: It sounds good but then you’re stuck doing all the work because I’m too lazy to do it.
Me: Ach, Quatsch! You are not lazy.

RMM: Yes, I am.
Me: No, sweetie. You’re tired and worn out from doing all that teaching while you were sick. You’re in recovery mode. And you shouldn’t have to do anything ever again unless you want to. Would you like a safe room?

RMM: Yes, please. But only if you promise that you won’t work too hard.
Me: I promise. I have Pirate Queen powers. It will be fun. And there will be PLAY. Play! We will find out how. But rhinestone gloves will be involved.

RMM: Oh, good. I worry about you so much.
Me: And I worry about you. I guess we both worry too much. So tell me about your safe room.

The safe room.

RMM: Hot pools! Private hot pools! And Hiro is there, of course, and we can talk and giggle and make things beautiful.

And there’s a room with a giant adobe fireplace. And a bedroom with a glorrrrrrious bed. Green and blue blankets. And a fountain to help me sleep.

And sandwiches! And a warm bathrobe draped over a chair just for me. And lots of books to read on my phone.

Me: That sounds absolutely terrific. I approve of this plan!

You do?

RMM: You do?
Me: Of course I do. Don’t I want you to be happy? Don’t I want all of my selves to be cared for and appreciated? Is that not one part of what this whole crazy thing of being alive and working on our stuff is about?

RMM: Oh.
Me: Listen. I don’t need you at the front of the V, honey. You have already done enough. You did great. And now it’s time to just be cared for and adored like you deserve.

RMM: And I’m not leaving you alone to suffer?
Me: Not at all. You’re leaving so that I can play without disturbing you.

I have internal and external resources. I am going to ask for helper mice.

We’ll divide this project mission into small pieces and invent a puzzle. Goofballosity will prevail.

And now I know where the resistance is coming from so I can see how completely legitimate it is. It’s a reminder for that thing I thought I knew but wasn’t doing: not to fight the resistance but to find out what it needs.

Have fun!

RMM: Rock on. Have fun!
Me: Have fun yourself! And say hi to Hiro. KISSES!

And comment zen for today…

While I hide in my blanket fort.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We let other people have their stuff. We take responsibility for our experience. We let them have their experience. That’s how it works.

We are curious and inquisitive. We don’t give unsolicited advice.

Things that are welcome: thoughts, wonderings, your own experience, stuff you’re trying, your own internal conversations. Internet hugs all around!

Very Personal Ads #72: worthy of gloves indeed!

very personal adsPersonal 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: aaaaaaaaah spaciousness.

Here’s what I want:

The busy. It is not ending.

There’s the Rally this week and then teaching in Sacramento and then all of a sudden we’re halfway through December.

Somehow I need for pockets of breathing room to open up in there. Either that or some cool machine that slows down time. Superpowers activate!

Ways this could work:

Shavasana.

Naptime. Bathtime.

Buffers and neutral zones.

Lots of playing at the Playground.

Not taking myself too seriously.

I don’t know.

My commitment.

To observe the hard and the good, and find out what I need.

To put someone else at the front of the V.

To be genuinely curious and loving and inquisitive about whatever monsters show up and not just shove cookies at them to try to make them shut up.

To laugh when I can and cry when I can’t. Yes, that was probably going to happen anyway but I just committed to it. So there.

Thing 2: phase 2 of the Great Rebrunching.

Here’s what I want:

It’s that time of year again, somehow.

We’re gearing up for the (gasp) THIRD YEAR of my At the Kitchen Table program where we actively practice all the stuff I talk about on the blog.

This year I’m not breaking my head over the change-over. Which is interesting and good.

But we’re also gearing up for a lot of back-end adjustments, which means time crunch.

What I’d like is for the rolling-out to go smoothly, while I’m away rallying it up at the Rally (Rally!).

Ways this could work:

I know how the technical bits are going to work. We have just about a hundred people on the waiting list, and as of Monday, the waiting list will be officially closed.

On Toozday morning we’ll let that group of lovely and patient people start applying. They’ll get a two week headstart, and then if there are any seats left we’ll open the doors to the General Public (aka blog mice et al).

As for the how is this going to work with smoothness and spaciousness and all that? No idea.

And I will be too busy with the Great Ducking Out and then teaching in Sacramento to figure that out, so it’s going to have to work smoothly.

I’m definitely hoping that this can be a fun experiment in not obsessing over details and finding out how much I can trust our systems. Yes, please.

My commitment.

To breathe and take lots of notes.

To remember that each year this process gets slightly easier. And that everything I do this year (even if it turns out to be a colossal screw-up) is useful information.

To enjoy this amazing community that is like nothing I have ever experienced.

Hooray for smart, compassionate curious people working on their stuff while having imaginary cake fights and being ridiculous.

p.s. If you want to start early on this, I happen to know (because I was at Drunk Pirate Council and because it was my idea) that this year we’re doing conversations with monsters. So you could go ahead and start documenting a dialogue, and then you’re already most of the way there.

Thing 3: oh there is this thing I want to work on!

Here’s what I want:

I have a beloved project mission that I’ve been wanting to spend time on since August.

My heart is whispering please please please, and I have most of the ralllying this week to make progress on it.

However, the rally always has its own agenda, so who knows.

It would be so brilliant to really truly make progress on this. And if that doesn’t happen, may the thing that does be so fabulous that I don’t care.

Ways this could work:

Love notes. Secret trysts.

Lots and lots of help from metaphor mouse.

My commitment.

To work through the hard and find out what’s needed so this can happen.

To process the process and ask lots of questions.

Trust trust trust trust trust.

Thing 4: superhero gloves.

Here’s what I want:

Eeeee! I saw these on Etsy and ohmygod.

Why do I not have superhero gloves? This is important.

Ways this could work:

I can contact her and find out if she’ll make them for big people.

And hum my new superhero gloves superhero gloves song that exists only in my head.

I can show them to the Schmoppet and his eyes can go big.

Superhero gloves!

My commitment.

To be worthy of superhero gloves.

I’m not sure what that entails but I’m on it.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

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

First thing I wanted was an alternative plan to SXSW and that weirdly resulted in my decision to not travel for the next eighteen months. Awesome.

Then I needed help with order and sequencing, which went pretty well. Drunk Pirate Council was not as hellish as anticipated.

I wanted ease-filled readjustment back from the Week of Biggification. Kind of happened and kind of didn’t.

The part that went really well: daily naps and early to bed and not having ten thousand client calls.

The part that was hard: adjustment is just hard.

And I wanted progress on a project, and ended up sharing my thoughts/vision with some people. Scary but exciting. We’ll see where it goes.

It’s kind of freaking me out that no one seems to think it’s as impossible as I do. But that’s probably a good thing.

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 #120: merp and the yeasties

Friday chickenBecause 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’m back!

Back in PDX.

Not traveling again for… oh, a week and a half.

But mainly: back here. And it is lovely. Missed you guys.

The hard stuff

Adjusting. I am not always good at this.

Transitions. Blah.

And it’s cold and I do not know where the flannel sheets are and merp.

That is the sound of me being too uncomfortable to whine. It’s like a mini-whine.

Doing a thing to make it all better and then regretting it.

Selma and I escaped the crazed leaf-blowers on our street to hide out in a favorite cafe and do some writing.

Picture me being all oh look I’m taking care of myself instead of just crying under the bed, what a very good thing.

But then our lovely refuge had inexplicably turned into HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) hell.

Loud and bleeping and jangly. Full of people. And all of them on their phones and in a hurry. Jumping, dodging, yelling, leaping. You think I exaggerate but no.

It was like a private circus of everything I hate.

The week of Appointments of Doom.

Not really.

But kind of.

Dentist. Pirate CPA. Old bank. New bank.

Plus I had to miss the amazing call that Pam Slim did for my Kitchen Table program. Not fair!

The usual conundrum.

Navigating that fine line between…

On the one hand: being okay with the fact that some people will not take initiative to get the help they say they want, no matter how much they’ve paid to get it and regardless of what you’re doing to support them in the process.

And on the other hand: establishing — in all aspects of your life — the kind of internal and external culture where people really understand that they need to take responsibility for their own experience.

And so they can do or not do as they like, knowing that it’s their trajectory and their stuff.

But they can’t put their not-getting-what-they-think-they-want on you.

Every time I think I’ve figured this one out completely, we’re in for a new round of it. Very interesting.

The good stuff

None of the hard was as horrible as it could have been.

The visit with our pirate CPA was quite heartening. It is a joy to have him on our ship.

He is wise and trustworthy and a total sweetheart, and that is such a reminder of how I want our company to be.

The dentist appointment was less torturous than what I had been dreading. Plus they gave me lemon lip balm.

And when I needed a moment, they gave me a moment. But they really gave me a moment. They turned out the lights and left me alone for about five minutes. Thank you.

Being home.

Home-cooked meals and freshly baked sourdough bread, courtesy of my gentleman friend and the Hoppy House yeasties.

Sitting with Selma on the couch in the kitchen (yes, it is a very good place for a couch) and catching up on the New Yorker, and listening to the rain and being happy.

Early to bed = heaven.

I think I was asleep by 8:30 almost every night this week.

Nine hours a night of glorrrrrrrrrious, uninterrupted sleep.

Spaciousness.

Got rid of a bunch of (mostly symbolic) things this week.

Including the bathing suit from KaDeWe that I bought recklessly with the very last of everything I had. It still looks good but it is made of regret and pain and fear, and I do not want it in my life anymore.

So all that clearing out was lovely. And I did some rearranging at the Playground (which will have its own website soon), and yay.

Finally got around to announcing the Sacramento workshop.

Which I’d meant to do for weeks but completely slipped my mind about fourteen different times.

It filled completely in under two days, and now I don’t have to feel like an idiot for forgetting to tell people about it.

(You can get on a waiting list in case someone cancels, but given the rows of !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! in the orders, I kind of doubt that’s going to happen.)

Coming up next will be a day of wish-navigating in Portland. I will explain what that is soon. Assume for now that it will be both ridiculous and amazing.

Stuff I’m reading, appreciating, think you would like.

First I have to tell you that Laura finally opened her shop and is having a sale and this is the last day for it.

Ohmygod. The slippers. I cannot wait until mine arrive. And the pictures and the gorgeous. LOVE. She’s @saltylaura on Twitter.

Then Amy started making permission slips. Literally. I mean, they’re slips. Like this one named Dorothy. I may have to marry her. She’s @barefootphoenix on Twitter.

And Walt! He is a stand up guy. And he’s biggifying. At his own perfect pace. I love this.

Also I can’t decide what picture I will choose if I win the contest so I’ll probably have to end up getting all of them. That’s @walterhawn.

Everything Maryann is saying. Read it. Twice. It’s like she really truly gets all the things I’m trying to teach in my life. Like this:

You can’t biggify without your body being a partner.

Also I will love her forever for the phrase: “I was off getting biggified, as one does”. Hilarious. She’s @maryanndevine.

And if you write recommendation letters or might ever need one written for you, please read this.

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?

The Red Wig Of Chickening.

Because the wig deserves its own band. And yes, they opened for Grease Scallions once. But it’s really just one guy.

And some of the lovely presents that arrived this week.

I have been avoiding the post office.

But. We got a giant rainbow hammock from @herchuckness (hooray!) and a bunch of books.

And a silly hat and a sock monkey. So life is good.

And an announcement!

We just had two people who had to duck out of the Great Ducking Out! But they are giving their seats as stowawayship scholarships (they pay for you to go now, you pay for someone else to go next year).

One is for the Thanksgiving Day itself. Come now without paying. Pay the tuition ($90) within a year so the next person gets to do it.

The other is for the full Rally. It’s this Tuesday evening through Friday morning. Same deal. You come now. You pay the $300 within a year.

I know the page says the program is full (because it was), but email the First Mate if you want one of these.

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.

Also: yes. Merp and the yeasties. Just one guy.

Safe rooms.

The other day, Kris asked how I’d managed to not go into my victim stuff while getting pulled out of the line again at the airport.

It’s complicated. And it’s worth a few posts, but in order to talk about it, I need to explain about safe rooms.

A safe room is pretty much what it sounds like.

It’s a room. Or a series of rooms. And it is completely and utterly safe.

It is the space you invent for the part of you who can’t cope with things as they are right now.

So that the part of you who can cope is free to do what needs to be done.

My safe rooms are all in Tel Aviv.

Which is slightly weird and slightly not.

A lot of really unbelievably not safe things happened during a decade of living there.

But it was also a refuge.

At any rate, any safe room I come up with invariably ends up being at least loosely based on my old place in Florentin, or the last apartment of my friend who is dead.

My clients generally do not recognize their safe rooms. The rooms vary.

Sometimes they are otherworldly. Futuristic or medieval. Sometimes they are on beaches or in a forest.

They can be magical or mundane. Silly or practical. Or both.

It doesn’t matter. The main thing is: you are safe.

Or, better, the parts of you who desperately crave safety and sanctuary have places to recover.

“Create a safe room for the you who feels vulnerable and helpless.”

Or the version of you who feels vulnerable and helpless.

This was one of the many exercises we did at my last week-long retreat in Asheville.

Here’s what I wrote:

It’s his apartment again. Except.

There are floor to ceiling bookshelves.

You can never run out of books.

There are beautiful skylights that can only be opened from the inside. With automatic shades. Press a button and cover them up.

The windows are double paned glass, and open outward. With locks.

The door is thick and oak. The key is black.

There are thick rugs and wood floors and a corner that is just for yoga.

Plants everywhere.

The refrigerator is always full.

The closet is spacious and well-lit.

It smells wonderful.

She doesn’t ever have to leave ever ever ever because we own it forever.

Someone brings hot meals. She can just whisper into a plant what she would like, and it will appear in a secret hallway between two doors.

There is no mail except for cards that say sweet things. No phone calls.

There is a giant bathtub. There are flowers.

Guilt is not allowed.

No one needs to know she is here.

You are cared for forever. Without ever being bothered.

And there is enough. There just is.

“Create a safe room for you now.”

Similar. More spacious. Much bigger windows. So much bigger.

And they’re open to the breeze.

A trampoline, of course. In the trampoline room!

The bath is larger.

There is secret door to the Playground!

A business magic planning wishing room for convening and counciling.

Charts and maps and nautical things, pirate ship toys. Singing.

Books. Colors. Wood. Elegant solutions. Water.

Now we can talk about the V.

Once you have a safe room, it’s there for as long as you need it.

This helps you re-order the V.

Right. The V.

This is something I took from Hiro.

She gave me this wonderful image of all the various parts of me flying together.

They’re flying in a V-formation. Like geese.

And sometimes the version of me who is leading is not the right one for that situation.

We need to switch.

How I used this at the airport.

Here’s what I know. If I’m experiencing tension, anxiety, anger …

That’s a pretty good sign that the me who is currently at the front of the V is a) unhappy and b) young.

Sometimes it’s bartender me (who is good in a fight but not so good when I’m trying to avoid getting in a fight). She takes stuff personally. She’s up for anything. And she’s unpredictable.

Again, it makes her fun at parties. Not so much in airports.

Or it’s a much younger version me who knows about the pain of being a victim, but has not yet learned about practicing sovereignty.

Either way, I’ve learned it’s definitely not the me who needs to be at the front of the V.

Not helpful for her and not useful for the situation.

So I ask for a volunteer.

Who would be best at heading up the V?

Possibly pirate queen me. Any version of me who is not impressed by authority, but is also kind, discerning, funny, relaxed and wearing her crown.

Totally regal but not snobby. Not imperious. Casual, lighthearted, powerful, playful, confident, at ease in the world.

I’m not always sure I know that she exists, but I have a sense of what it’s like to be around her.

And I can have her accompany the strongest version of me to the front of the V.

Then we make a safe room for whoever is currently at the front. They get to decide what it’s like, what’s in it, who protects it and how long they want to be there.

They go to the safe room. I stand in the front of the V. Reconfigure my force field. Smile. We begin.

And then.

I also make a safe room for the passage through security.

There are flowers. I’m the only one who can see them.

There are trees that ground the room, and skylights that only I know about.

The trees whisper encouragement. Not so much in words but the general sense is something like this:

“Good for you. You’re interacting with your stuff, in a way that is not confrontational and violent.

“Whatever happens, you’re consciously, actively engaging.

“Your internal scientist crew is taking notes on this round.

“You are safe. You are loved. You are a strong, beautiful, sovereign being and so is everyone you meet.

“All your encounters are harmonious, or can be. None of this is personal.”

And I remind myself too:

“This person in front of me is a human being, who happens to be wearing a uniform.

Even though my monsters say that only an abusive person would do this job, do I honestly know that to be true? Always?

Even though I’m going into my past narratives about abuses of power, I can still remember: this is not what is happening right now in this moment.

We are two people. Each interaction is new. I can expect to be treated with kindness. And if that doesn’t happen for whatever reason, it isn’t about me.

I will do my part to alter every part of this encounter and my perception of this encounter that I have influence over.

The rest is out of my hands. It’s about how I react and how I react to reacting. And there isn’t any way to screw this up because it’s all an experiment and we’re taking notes for next time.”

And comment zen for today.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.

It’s a practice, which means that it is ongoing.

You might not be able to use most or any of this right now. Or it might seem way too weird, too conceptual, too far-off.

I have the advantage of having spent the past seven years working on my stuff as my full-time occupation. There are a lot of skills and mindset-shifts that I’m referencing or skipping over here that take time to practice and develop.

As always, use what works and skip what doesn’t. Mess around. Try things. See what you like. See what you need to change, rename, do differently.

If you want to play, you are more than welcome to. One of my favorite things in the world is to learn about other people’s safe rooms, so if you feel like inventing one and sharing it, that would be awesome.

Not going anywhere. Literally.

I have decided that I am done with traveling. For a while.

For a very long while.

This will be weird and different since right now I go places to teach (or to recover from having just gone to other places to teach) at least once a month.

Since I started my business over five years ago, going places to teach has been one of the things I do.

Done with that. And yes, there’s stuff I’ll say about this. In no particular order.

Timing.

I’m thinking mid-2012 is when I’ll start planning stuff again.

But until then? No business travel. No personal travel. Except for driving to the woods to visit my favorite uncle.

What this is about.

Since opening the Playground in June, I have experienced over and over again how much more awesome it is to teach in an truly amazing space.

At the Week of Biggification in Asheville, there were all these things I missed having. And it is so much more pleasurable to teach in a place that is magical and filled with wonder.

With toys, costumes, stickers, a pirate ship wheel and a nap room.

I want to be in the Playground, with the Playground, at the Playground.

And so that’s where I’m going to stay. Within walking distance to the grilled cheese bus, because that’s important.

As with everything, I reserve the right to change my mind as many times as I want.

Because running a company everything I do is an ongoing creative experiment that exists in a state of flow and change.

Like writing a blog or going through a day or learning more about your relationship with your stuff. Things move.

So I do not expect to know how I’ll feel about this in six months or eighteen months. We’ll see how it feels. I will check in.

The part of me that is uncomfortable with this.

When I quit sugar (in February of the year 2000), the idea was to wait and see what would happen after a month. Still waiting. Because I can’t go back. My body got used to not being hyper, and it likes it that way.

When I went on email sabbatical (two years ago this January), I was hoping I could get away with it for six months.

Every single aspect of my life improved so drastically that nothing could induce me to return.

So here I am. I really love traveling. I mean, not the traveling so much as the being places.

Love the yearly teaching trip to Berlin. The green chile stew in New Mexico. Getting to see what crazy, wonderful things my students and clients in San Francisco are up to.

There is a part of me that says “if you stop now you’ll never get to go anywhere again!”

But that voice is a fuzzball monster who loves me and wants to know that I will not lose out on things that are meaningful to me. So I will talk to it and we will find a way to make sure we both get what we need.

The parts of me that are overjoyed about this.

Oh, mostly those parts that are constantly exhausted and in recovery mode. Like irritable-me. And my head.

Also, loving the idea of getting to devote Drunk Pirate Council to working on other things in the business instead of spending half the time on travel logistics.

And I am hugely relieved to avoid the mental, emotional and physical stress of having to avoid certain airports or generally encounter the new “possibility of inappropriate touching for your safety” procedures.*

* Which we at Hoppy House have been referring to as: “Would you like freedom fries with your liberty groping?”

Anyway, I have more than enough real life opportunities to work on my victim narratives and my sovereignty practice.

And since I am that person who invariably gets pulled out of the line at airports, I can skip that for now. I can work on my stuff in a less trigger-filled environment. And report back.

A funny thing. Well, mostly just to me.

At the last Rally (Rally!) in October, my plan was to use the time to work on my schedule for the year.

But I kept not working on my schedule for the year. I got all sorts of incredible things done instead. Like the content for the Week of Biggification. And the planning of several workshops. And a variety of fabulous epiphanies.

I also processed a ton of information about the qualities I wanted in the coming year:

Ease, rest, support, silliness, possibility, play.

Just no schedule.

So here it is. No schedule.

Spaciousness. Lots and lots of spaciousness.

What will be happening instead.

Rallies! At the Playground!

Also a new afternoon-at-the-Playground thing that is called wishstorming. More about that to come.

I will still be doing a Week of Biggification and a Week of Destuckification this year, also at the Playground.

Which will be even better now that we have a giant hammock.

And one last workshop that’s not in Portland.

Yay! So if you want to see me outside of the Playground, your last chance until mid-2012 is this:

On Friday, December 3rd I will be holding my very last non-Playground event. In Sacramento, California. Yes, that is soon.**

** Actually, my official very last non-Playground teaching event is Sunday, December 5th — Selma and I are teaching biggification skills at a yoga teacher training, but that’s not something I get to invite you to join.

There are two ways to do this.

1. Come to the fabulous three hour shivanautical destuckification workshop. The moments of bing will be worthy. And there will be much hilarity and goofing off.

2. You could be the one lucky person (or possibly one of two or three lucky people, depending on how this goes down) who gets an entire morning of me.

I will take you out to breakfast (with Selma) and I’ll work with you on your business or your thing, or your idea for what might eventually turn out to be a thing. For three hours.

In a sweet, loving, non-stressful way. With fairy dust. But we will destuckify like mad and we will get stuff done. And you get to join the afternoon workshop as well.

If this is something you are interested in, all the details are here.

Obviously, I would love to see you there. But I like you just as much either way.

If not in Sacramento, then at the Playground. And if not at the Playground, then whenever I return to traveling. It will happen.

In the meantime, this is where I am. Both emotionally and literally.

In Portland. With the trees and the green and the grilled cheeses and Hoppy House.

In the hammock in the nap room snuggling with butt-monsters. That’s what I need right now.

And comment zen for today.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s an ongoing experiment that involves curiosity, sovereignty and play.

We let people have their experience and we don’t give unsolicited advice. We play nice because it’s the easiest way to take care of ourselves (and each other).

We are allowed to be silly. We do not have to be right. We pause and breathe. We feel what we’re feeling.

We take responsibility for our stuff. We try on costumes. We twirl, on occasion. At least I do. Sovereignty cheering is always appreciated.

The Fluent Self