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.
Some things I know about some things I don’t know.
At the fabulous Week of Biggification in Asheville, we asked a lot of questions.
And we asked them after doing hilariously brain-meltingly impossible rounds of Shiva Nata, so that we were in a state of complete and utter mind scramble.
Catching ourselves in that moment of chaos-meets-order while the new connections are still being made.
I call this stone skipping.
You drop the question and it ripples out into places you haven’t been.
And you find out what you know about what you didn’t know.
You can also do this without being a shivanaut. Your answers might be slightly less trippy but the unscrambled brain still knows a lot about a lot.
Some of what I got, directly from my journal …
1. What’s missing?
Uh, aside from a lesson plan? And the ability to connect to what I need? And relief from my throbbing head?
Trust.
But it’s more than that.
Curiosity.
If I can be curious about how I am when I’m sick …
Instead of being in the whyyyyyy of why am I sick.
If I can be curious about how I care for myself instead of why I feel so bad …
This brings me back to my power.
And when I am in my power, it does not matter that I am sick.
I mean, it doesn’t help me in the moment necessarily. But it gives me freedom.
It gives me a buffer.
So instead of trying to radiate power, which sometimes I can and sometimes I can’t…
I need to activate this quality of CURIOSITY.
2. What am I here to do?
Create passages.
Document passages.
Walk through passages.
Establish culture.
This is very different than that yoga-teacher-ey phrase “holding the space” — though I actually know what that means now.
I am here to let them teach and learn, to be in my boundaries, to be the shining clear light, to play and laugh.
I am here to withdraw. Seclusion without isolation. I am here to study culture. I am here to recognize why.
What does that mean?
I am here to “recognize why”? Huh? What is that supposed to mean?
It’s pattern-mapping and pattern-tracking.
It’s truth-sourcing.
It’s locating what is the cause.
Okay. I still don’t know what I think about that.
Think Herodotus. Be interested in the cause behind the cause.
3. What is true?
That some things do take time, but not every process needs a lot of time. That I am ready.
That I have the resources I need. That there IS something useful about this illness, and I can figure out what it is.
And I can challenge them to figure out what to do to make this voyage a voyage.
What makes a voyage a voyage?
SEPARATION | TRANSITIONS | SECLUSION | CURIOSITY | PLAY
Yes. Show them that.
4. What do I know about transitions?
They can gradually happen with more ease. I am done with the rough passages.
It is safe for me to cross these crossings. Anything else?
This is a fairly big one right now so be easy on yourself.
Stay in the curiosity. That’s where your power is.
Oh? Am I talking to myself in a variety of tenses now? Yes, yes, you are.
5. What do I know?
About possibility.
——–> Possibility can still be stable.
The way that a chair is composed of particles. Yes.
There are always more options than I think there are.
I can’t choose wrong. It’s impossible.
Because once I see beyond the either this or either that, there is a wealth of possibility. And each one is its own world. And each of those worlds is good.
As long as my choice is a conscious one and not choice-through-limitation… I can go where I like.
So where would I like to go?
To the treasure.
Then.
So then we asked “where is the treasure?”
And we asked it every single day, which was kind of awesome.
Of course there were many more questions and many more answers, some of which I can share with you if you’re interested.
But the main thing is: play!
Do any of these questions appeal to you? Or scare you? Or something?
If you’d like to answer one or two of them (or as many as you like) and see what comes up, that would be fun.
You can share or not share. It’s all fine by me.
You can call “Silent Retreat!” and go hide. You can think about other questions or other answers.
You can do whatever you like. And here’s the comment zen for today.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
We play. We’re curious. We meet people where they are. We don’t give unsolicited advice. We have been known to wear silly hats.
That is all.
Kisses to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads!
Spaciousness. And the finding of it.
I have been gone. And doing a lot of looking for space in the tight and narrow places.
In my body, mostly.
In the joints and between the fascia. Space between the vertebrae.
But also:
In my physical and emotional environment. Activating sources of support and comfort. Noticing what happens when I contract into fear or dislike.
Finding the words and actions that can act as a buffer. Going into the neutral zones.
And instead of explaining, I am making lists.
Where I’m messing around with spaciousness for the moment.
- In a morning bath
- In taking three slow breaths as I open the computer
- Noticing as I type this that I have been kind of sitting at an angle and now my shoulder hurts so I am going to stretch out my shoulder and adjust adjust adjust..
- Drinking water
- While reading Maryann’s amazing post.
- In trying to trust things.
- And remembering to play.
And more spaciousness ….
- In taking a break from typing.
- In giving myself permission to not write something that I don’t want to write.
- Time for an afternoon nap.
- Cutting a walk short because of the tired. And without a lot of explanations.
- Making wishes and writing Very Personal Ads.
- Fluffing up the cushions
- Saying BED! And then going.
And then the spaciousness on the plane ride back to Portland.
- Not going to the post office with the big box of yoga blocks and toys, but having it be luggage. Cost the same. Less hassle.
- The smile of the flight attendant. It was real. That was nice.
- The generously large bathroom stall at the Asheville airport which had its own sink! A sink in which I rinsed out the shirt I had stained.
- Not flipping out over having stained the top, which normally would be cause for agonizing.
- Not being angry when my bags got checked. Responding without being reactive.
- Wearing my crown.
- Not taking it personally.
- Enough time at the gate for a snack and a phone call.
- Remembering what I need: autonomy, comfort, support, strength, freedom, trust. Looking for ways to have more of that.
- Hanging out with Slightly Future Me on the plane.
And really the biggest thing was this:
Making a conscious decision to not go into victim mode with the TSA woman when my bags had to be searched.
I can spend a lot of time in victim mode because that’s the history but I didn’t.
Not a victim. Just two human beings. In an uncomfortable situation but here we are.
Showing her my labyrinth and the bells and the Schmoppet, and letting her admire my sovereignty boots. Not putting myself in the helpless role and not putting her in the abuser role.
We were even able to laugh. This is very unlike everything.
Though if I’d had to be actually physically searched? I’m pretty sure I would have lost it. Still, progress where the progress is. That’s what I’m paying attention to right now.
And since returning.
- My rituals are back! I was so worried that they had disappeared forever but I was wrong. It turns out that they live at Hoppy House.
- Getting up early to take a bath and tramp it up.
- Going for a walk with Selma and the gentleman friend.
- Cleaning at the Playground and making space for the new rainbow hammock that @herchuckness sent
- Streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetching! But very slowly. Old Turkish lady style.
- Checking in with Real Life stuff but only for a few minutes at a time.
At the dentist.
- Trying not to use the word dentist.
- Remembering that today is not ruined just because this is where I will be today.
- Knowing that this is another space to do a little ju jitsu (or shivanautical deconstruction) with my pain and my victim stuff.
- Making space before and after to not have to do things.
- Remembering that this is a way of giving support to myself, and that there are other things I can do to give myself support while I’m in it.
- Permission to not want to be there.
- Legitimacy to the pain.
- Wearing the invisible sovereignty crown.
- Knowing that I’ll get to report back, if I want to.
Receiving a not nice letter.
Breathing.
Giving myself room for my pain. Giving them room for their pain.
Remembering that not everything requires a response.
And even if this one does, my main job during a barrage of flying shoes is to take care of myself first.
Today.
This.
And then possibly other things.
We’ll see.
And comment zen for today.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
We let everyone else have their stuff.
Playing is welcome. As is silliness, thoughtfulness, wonderings, practicing, noticing, metaphor-mousing, figuring out what’s next.
What is not welcome: unsolicited advice. Because not giving advice is how we let everyone have spaciousness for their stuff. It’s about consciously, actively not going into our default patterns of trying to make things better. Even when we really want to. We take care of ourselves instead.
Internet hugs all around. I’ve totally missed you guys.
Very Personal Ads #72: did I say charming? I meant something else.
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: Making what I don’t want considerably more fun.
Here’s what I want:
So. Several weeks ago I asked for suggestions for places to stay in Austin in March, so I could attempt being-at-SXSW-again, but still avoid the actual conference and just about all of the people.
Because I’m charmingly anti-social that way. And my readers came up with all sorts of lovely options for me (thank you!).
And I noticed I was actually feeling extremely relieved when it turned out that all of these were already booked.
The truth is, I did not really love being there two years ago, though parts of it were fabulous. And then last year we experimented with JWNS (just west no south). Which was kind of good and kind of not.
Anyway, time to cook up an alternative plan that I can actually look forward to.
Ways this could work:
Oh, so many options.
I could go somewhere that I would actually like to be.
Like Monterey.
And hibernate. Or hold an event of my own. Or go on Pirate Queen Non-Emergency Vacation. Or do business strategizing, except call it something more fun.
I could also stay in PDX and throw a non-conference of beer and biggification.
Or do what I did last year and visit my wonderful uncle in the woods and drink tea and nap and read.
My commitment.
To make some sort of plan so that I don’t just end up doing nothing.
To have fun with this.
To be willing to be surprised.
Thing 2: Order and sequencing.
Here’s what I want:
Having not done any work at all for two weeks, I am not especially looking forward to the first Drunk Pirate Council of Doom.
I mean, I am, because I have missed drunk-pirate-council-ing. But I am feeling a bit apprehensive about the sheer number of things that need my attention.
It would be so wonderful to have some ease with order and sequencing. For the different pieces to sort themselves out and fall into place.
Yes, please.
Ways this could work:
Process the process.
Take notes.
Ask for help.
One thing at a time.
Breathe breathe breathe breathe.
Also, I need to remember to tell you guys again about the Great Ducking Out and how there are two spots left. Yes?
My commitment.
To notice what isn’t working.
To practice patience with my inability to be patient.
To learn from the hard and appreciate the good.
Thing 3: Ease-filled readjustment.
Here’s what I want:
To find my way back to my routines.
To take it slow.
To give myself more time than I think I need.
To bring spaciousness into my week and to every possible aspect of my day.
Ways this could work:
It just could.
I could surprise myself.
My commitment.
I will wear my invisible crown and my extremely visible red sovereignty boots. And be sparkly.
And walk. And be in the garden.
And to experiment.
Thing 4: Progress on a project
Here’s what I want:
As always, I came out of this week of teaching with a giant idea for a thing that is wonderful.
And it needs some time, affection, love, writing.
I do not know when this might happen.
Ways this could work:
Me and a journal and a pot of tea.
My commitment.
To make time for this.
To remember how important it is to give your new tiny, sweet thing some space.
To remember how this happened after the Destuckification Retreat last January, and how what came from that was the Playground, so giving these ideas time and love is such a big deal.
And worth it. So just do it.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted rhythm, routine, ritual. And it kind of worked.
My days started to make more sense. I was less exhausted. More focused.
Then I wanted help figuring out the test that is not a test, and I had a Brilliant Idea. No progress on it, but that’s my new project.
I wanted time for writing, typing and sleeping. And, amazingly, it happened.
Normally I need several weeks after teaching an event to type up all my notes. This time I managed to give it an hour or two each morning. All done! All done!
And the last ask was for trust and faith, and I got it in spades. Thank you, me from last week. That was exactly the right thing to ask for, and the results were intense.
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!
What I’d rather not have:
- The word “manifest”.
- To be told how I should be asking for things.
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given advices.
Wishing love and good things for your Very Personal Ads! So glad for everyone doing this with me.
Friday Chicken #119: they taste like regular force fields though
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.
Home! Soon! Leaving Asheville for Portland.
I cannot wait.
In the meantime, it is definitely time to do some chickening.
Because that was one hell of a week. Full of challenging hard and beautiful redemptive good. And I am so ready to close the door on this one.
The hard stuff
Recovery from illness.
So a week ago, as that week’s chicken came into being, I typed all sorts of very hopeful things about being on the mend. That did not happen.
At least not right away.
Friday and Saturday was still much queasy and headache-ey and not good.
Not until Sunday afternoon did I really start returning to myself.
And even then I was slow little miss mouse all week. Low appetite, easily tired, much needing of the bed.
Further frustrations due to being in recovery.
Usually when I’m not teaching, there is a bit of necessary down time but Selma and I also like to hang out with people at meals.
To be silly and learn about what they’re working on and play play play.
This was not happening because invariably the thought of being around food made me shaky. Or bed took precedence over everything else. Bed!
Oh. After so many months of excitement of leading the Week of Biggification. I mean, we started planning this last January!
And then to be there and not be able to really truly be there in the way that I wanted to. Very challenging.
Everything out of routine.
Still missing all the things that I normally do that keep me sane (tramping and daily bath and long walks and morning yoga).
Computer issues.
It turns out that it will cost so much to fix Mack the Wife (Mack the Wife-Book-Air) that I might as well just get a new laptop.
I do not want.
Blah. Decisions.
Argh time change.
Really, I do not understand the general excitement over an additional hour of sleep. That never happens to me.
Here’s what does happen:
Normally my body wakes me up at between five and six. This is a good thing. It gives us time to do what needs to be done before the day begins.
When the clocks change though, my body tells me to get up at four instead. There is no going back to sleep.
And then I’m up. And it’s four in the morning. This is the hour of not having fun.
Also it is the hour when the hotel vacuums all the rooms that one might sit in while one is very much not asleep.
Day 4 Syndrome.
Even though it happens every single time.
And even though I told them it would. And even though Day 4 syndrome is a normal, natural part of going through a serious process of working on your stuff and transforming it.
Still.
Seeing people you love hitting all their walls and being in the pain … so hard.
You wish you could wave the magic wand and make it better. And you can. But they still have to do the work because they are capable, autonomous, sovereign beings and that’s what they came to do.
And you have to be patient and let them do it. With love.
The good stuff
Day 5! Sweet, sweet, sweet Day 5!
Oh, the joyfulness. That beautiful moment of pivot.
When pop pop pop like popcorn they make it through the hard, and the breakthroughs and the realizations start fast and furious.
And we can begin to really have fun.
After all the setting-it-up and all the wax on wax off with the skills they need to know to be able to do the work.
This was the day when they got it. And they were able to use what we had been practicing. Which meant?
We could finally just PLAY.
Penguins on speed! Drunken fairies! Menacing trees! I speak topiary!
The air changed too. The room became light, loose, playful. Full of joy and laughter and silliness. Freedom and spaciousness and love. Even when you know it’s coming, it just feels so good.
The Week of Biggification.
The amazing people.
The hilarity and goofball brilliance. The genius business ideas we launched in the bar.
I’d describe it but I can’t. So will just say that it was an absolutely incredible experience and I feel so fortunate to have been able to facilitate and be part of the making it happen.
Done.
Yay.
Not being sick anymore?
Yes, please.
After all that feeling like crap, it was a truly wonderful thing to be able to walk around and eat and put my attention to things other than “teaching without passing out”.
A beautiful thing, for which I am grateful and appreciative.
Day off.
Spa. Water. Sleep. Repeat.
Heaven.
Changing.
Because I couldn’t teach the way I normally do…
And because I couldn’t invent and be creative due to my brain being mush…
I had to adapt. And while it totally sucked while I was in it, my teaching will be so much better now that I’ve been through the hard of this week.
Not reacting.
To so many things.
But a really great example:
The hotel wanting to charge the hilarious price of $250 for our use of their flip chart. Or the Chip Flart, as I call it.
Normally I’d go into my default patterns of aaaaaaah encroachment and gah they’re trying to push me around, and anger-fear-disappointment-upset-ness.
This time I just smiled and said no, that’s not going to happen. And directed them to talk to my programs coordinator who had the email with the price we had originally agreed to.
There are seventeen hundred other examples but that gives you the sense of it. Though I cannot actually find words to describe how new and exciting this is for me.
A week of mastering detachment in situations where I cannot normally practice it.
That was good.
Roller Derby! Nationals!
A couple of stupid things happened. Like Rose City not being there. Like the BAD girls (Bay Area Derby) losing in the first bout to the Texecutioners. Come on!
But lots of great things happened. Like Texas getting destroyed by Gotham. And then west coast domination, as predicted in the bible by everyone who was at regionals.
There was some beautiful skating. Some great moments. And I didn’t mind not being there, since Chicago in November is cold. Hooray for streaming broadcast.
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:
Strawbery Force Fields Forever
Formerly known as Rhubarb Rhubarb and the Rhubarbs.
Which is weird, because it’s just one guy.
And some of the lovely presents that arrived this week.
Actually I can’t tell you what arrived at the Playground because I’m still in Asheville.
But we still got lovely presents.
Including a sock monkey! And a monster pop-up book!
And a Schmurphy.
Oh, and watching my people have outrageously great breakthroughs and mind-melting epiphanies and extreme moments of bing. That was awesome.
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.
Very Personal Ads #71: my brain I do not know where it is either
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!
Here’s the thing. I’ve been unwell for four days.
It’s the stupid time change, which means insomnia for me.
And I have a splitting headache.
So the VPA-ing it is especially hard today, because my brain is not generating ideas for what is possible.
Oh well.
So I’m just going to plant the asks and trust that there is a large variety of possible ways that these things could work out.
Thing 1: Oh, rhythm, routine, ritual, stuff like that.
Here’s what I want:
Between being sick and weak and cranky for four days, and being on the road …
All my normal routine is shot to hell.
And right now I can’t manage any of the usual things that make my life good.
Like my morning bath, because this hotel room doesn’t have a bathtub. Two televisions and eleven chairs, but no bath.
Or tramping on the trampoline (even though one of the incredibly awesome participants in my Week of Biggification program actually brought hers for me to use). Because I still feel weak and dizzy.
Or doing my morning and evening wishing/writing/journaling, because ow headache.
So. I don’t know yet exactly what this ask is about.
New routines for this week. Bits and pieces of the old ones. Something like that.
Ways this could work:
My brain is toast.
I do not know.
I do not want suggestions.
Just want something to come to me.
My commitment.
To find moments that are pleasurable.
Sitting by the window.
Realizing how refreshing apple juice is when you don’t feel well.
Sloooooooooow old Turkish lady yoga.
And to do more of them. And to turn them into rituals that will sustain me this week.
I’ll either get back to what was good before, or this will be the new good, or something else will happen.
Thing 2: The non-exam.
Here’s what I want:
I’ve been wanting to come up with that thing that is not actually a test.
But a collection of concepts and stuff I teach.
So that I can take this material deeper, which is what I keep trying to do. But it’s hard when you need everyone to be on board with the basics.
Ways this could work:
Maybe I’ll get Shiva Nata to break everything down into themes and then teach a course.
My commitment.
To take notes.
To be playful.
To remember that there is time.
Thing 3: Oh, right. Time.
Here’s what I want:
Time! I would like some.
To do some writing. Or some sleeping. Or some typing of things that need to be typed.
Ways this could work:
Look for the holes.
Look for the gaps.
My commitment.
I will pay attention.
Thing 4: Trust and faith.
Here’s what I want:
To remember what beautiful things people are capable of.
And give them space to remind me.
Ways this could work:
Patience. Patience. Patience.
My commitment.
To wait and see.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I put out the word for people for Lindsay’s program in Scotland. I’ll have to check in with her to find out what’s what.
The orange sweater. Nothing. Darcy sweetly offered to fix it for me (yay Darcy!) except my sweater is gigantic, so bringing it to North Carolina would have constituted my entire luggage.
Lots of kind suggestions of places to take it to be fixed helped me to realize that I hadn’t correctly stated my ask. My ask wasn’t really for the sweater to be fixed but for an easy-yet-unconventional way for it to be fixed.
Because I already knew where to take it to be fixed. Yarn shops in Portland are like nail salons in San Francisco. You kind of have to go out of your way to em>not run into one.
Really what I had been hoping for was this: that some neat connection would arise or I’d get to meet one of my people. But the ask did lead me to the discovery that a friend of a friend has a shop in town. So that’s cool.
Ease with travel. And Selma and I had BY FAR the easiest travel we have ever had. EVER! It was nothing short of miraculous. Just smoothness and smoothness and more smoothness.
Bloggery magic and elegance in problem-solving. Didn’t even slightly happen. I’m sure something else did instead, but my head is still not functioning so maybe that will show up later.
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!
What I’d rather not have:
- The word “manifest”.
- To be told how I should be asking for things.
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given advices.
Wishing love and good things for your Very Personal Ads! So glad for everyone doing this with me.