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.
Rethinking. And 4 announcements.
I was setting up the HAT (acronym for the page in which Havi Announces a Thing)* for the Great Ducking Out.
And it occurred to me that there’s kind of no point in giving people an option for sneaking out of something if you don’t help them with how to do it.
So I looked up my alignment exercise, thinking someone would probably find that useful.
It turns out I’ve written about this exercise on all sorts of different occasions on the blog. And it also turns out that I am hilarious. Though mostly unintentionally.
* Five years running an online business and I still can’t say “sales page”. It creeps me out. Haberdashery is my workaround!
The alignment exercise.
Posts in which I’ve described the alignment exercise (which, by the way, totally needs another name — metaphor mouse will have to come and save the day):
- On PTSD
- The Encroachers
- 8 ways to have a seriously unpleasant conversation
- Awkward conversations and a wacky exercise
- and all the way back to June 2008… curing phone call dread
And then I felt like an idiot. Because I am smack in the midst of this frustrating situation of conflict, and I have been avoiding my favorite exercise for deconflictizing conflict— the one that always, always, always works.
So, as we know, there is always a good reason for avoidance.
Yes, we do know that.
So what was my good reason?
I have been passively and actively Not Thinking about using the alignment exercise because I’m in resistance.
And I’m resisting alignment because I don’t want to see the negative things I have in common with this guy. The shadow.
I don’t want to say, “Wow, he’s territorial, condescending and manipulative, and HEY SO AM I.”
But of course that fear is a monster-fear. Not real.
Anyway the shadow is where the useful stuff lives. And we don’t have to encounter it directly — there are safe ways to interact with pain.
Alignment is really about finding the good.
It’s about finding the points of human and real and vulnerable.
And making room for people to have made mistakes for a completely legitimate reason. It’s assuming misunderstanding rather than nefariousness.
So instead of letting my well-meaning fuzzball monsters run the alignment (“What if you find out that his dorsal fin is just a reflection of your dorsal fin, you awful awful person?!”) …
I’m going to need to translate. Into the good. And use some “even though”-ing.
Like this.
Even though I feel anxious about his motivations … I know he really cares about his business. And I also really care about mine. Alignment.
And even though I have a lot of fear of losing out, based on past experience, I bet he does too. Alignment.
Even though I get really worked up when I think that someone is trying to push me, it looks like he does too. Something else we have in common.
I want acknowledgment and so does he. I want people to be considerate of my space and so does he. I want peace of mind and so does he.
There. That wasn’t so bad. Not a fin in sight.
Right. Of course. There are gaps and openings. There are fox passages.
So where else am I teaching this but not using it?
Everywhere.
I could be doing this with the HAT itself. With suppliers. While scheduling the year.
With past me and with future me. I could be teaching my staff pirate crew to do this too.
And I can remember to keep modeling it and practicing it here and at the Kitchen Table, so it becomes a basic part of the crazy thing that is culture. Because culture always wins. But that’s another post.
Okay, the part about all the announcements.
Because there is much craziness going on here on the pirate ship where we are having one Drunk Pirate Council after the next.
Mostly the good kind of craziness. I think. Long live Drunk Pirate Council! Or something. Anyway.
1. The Great Ducking Out.
Remember when I said I’d do a special ahahahahahaha run awayyyyyy thing for American Thanksgiving?
It is the Great Ducking Out. And it will be at the Playground. And it is fabulous.
If you can make it, we would love to avoid things with you too!
2. Sacramento in December!
Selma and I will be in Sacramento, California on Friday, December 3rd.
There will be an afternoon class of Shiva Nata, kooky exercises, writing and hot buttered epiphanies.
And there will be a very small gathering in the morning where I will teach.
Details to come soon, but save the date if you’re anywhere near the Bay Area.
(Though really? Last year people came from New York and London for this one. So maybe just save it anyway.)
3. Shiva Nata teacher training weekend (Feb 18-20) is almost full.
You do not have to be any good at Shiva Nata or even like it. You just have to be up for gigantic bursts of insights. And want to become a really good (or even better) teacher and facilitator — of anything.
People are coming from the UK, France, Australia and all across North America.
Some have done Shiva Nata maybe a couple times and some were at the last teacher training. Both of those are fine.
It will be fantastic. And you are invited. And yes, read about it. Because otherwise I will have to make sad faces when I announce that it is not available anymore.
4. Dates for the next Rally. Rally!
I know I said the next real Rally (Rally!) would be in January, but I’m actually doing a private program then. The next available-to-the-public Rally: FEBRUARY 22-25.
Also I rewrote the Rally FAQ.
With way more questions and answers than before, thanks to the Rallygators and some of the lovely people at the Frolicsome Bar (aka facebook).
So please peek over there and tell me if there is anything that I still need to answer.
Rally ho!
Play! And comment zen for today…
Let’s see. We could brainstorm.
Ways you could use the alignment thing.
Or ways you have been avoiding it.
Or maybe you have questions about any of the events so that I can write a new FAQ. Or good wishes. Those are welcome.
And speaking of wishes, I am wishing myself a speedy, harmonious and ease-filled resolution of everything that needs resolving.
And I will wish you the same, in case you need it.
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We get to play.
Tiny little troll doors.
Remember the other week when we were closing doors all over the place?
So today it’s tiny little troll doors.
I imagine them kind of like this.
Yes, that’s the faery door that lives at the Playground — and sometimes mysteriously moves around, though really I suspect the Rallions of the Rally of doing that.
Or like the troll door in Casey’s house.
It’s a short squat door, and the doorknob is maybe a foot and a half (45 centimeters?) off the ground. I know!
And then it takes you into this tiny, cramped room where I’m pretty sure the trolls have their breakfast.
It’s not like I channel trolls or anything.
But I’ve been thinking even more about this theme of closing doors.
Of completion and finishing and making room for new things by saying “okay, this is closed now.”
Today is not going to be about big doors. It’s going to be the tiny ones and the hidden ones.
One phone call. One setting-up-of-an-appointment. One list of supplies.
And somehow the being-done of these things will clear the air. There is spaciousness and possibility when some of these tiny little troll doors are shut.
So of course I had to talk to the trolls.
Kind of like this.
Me: I can’t talk to trolls. I do not believe in trolls.
Kooky me: Yes, but you talk to me. And anyway, we also talk to walls and monsters and you are a pirate. I mean, drawing the line at trolls is kind of random.
Plus, you don’t have to believe in anything to play and be silly and experiment.
Me: Right. Right. There are no trolls. I’m just connecting with myself. And with things that seem important to me right now. Like order and sequence and potential. But it’s easier to talk to trolls because I can picture them.
Kooky me: And you say I’m the crazy one. That’s awesome. So what, these aren’t like …. I don’t know, the San Francisco trolls, are they? With the trance music and the parties?
Me: No! It’s more like … oh! Of course. I’ve already written about this. It’s the Heinzelmännchen again! I just need to find out what the Heinzelmännchen would do.
Kooky me: I like the way you think, you charming, adorable nutjob.
So then I just asked.
I said:
“Okay. I guess it’s hard for me right now to connect to the essence of what I want. So I’ll need some translation trolls. But what I’d like to know is: what needs to be closed?
“What needs sequence and order? What needs finishing? And how does this all happen with ease and lightness? Looking for some simple, elegant solutions and some first steps.”
And I got:
- start a list on the ship’s Bridge for X things that are living in your head right now.
- get a highlighter in each room.
- where is your flip chart?
- before you call Y, write down the three questions.
- pack the bag.
- find the black notebook (the thing you need is in there).
- go through account A and delete ten things.
- the music is wrong.
Alrighty then.
So that’s where I’m going to start.
If you would like to play with me, you are more than welcome!
You can play by coming up with your own lists of doors, tiny or otherwise. Or sharing troll stories. Or inventing troll stories. Or calling upon a consortium of Heinzelmännchen.
As always, we let everyone here have their own experience, so we listen and we don’t tell each other what to do.
Doonsk! Doonsk! Doonsk! (That’s the sound that troll music makes!)
Preparing.
I’m getting ready to get ready to get ready to leave for Asheville.
This is not like me. It’s kind of awesome.
This trip will be my third to North Carolina in fifteen months.
Preparing for the teaching: not a big deal.
Preparing for the traveling: something I’m learning to do.
Preparing? What?
I don’t generally have my ducks in a row. I don’t generally have my ducks (well, duck) do anything, except hang out in my handbag.
And when it comes to travel, I’m a whee let’s do this traveler. The last minute is my friend.
Not caring how and just making it happen is how I’ve moved countries three times.
So this is different. And interesting.
I’m looking at these three trips and taking apart the patterns.
The first trip was exploratory.
As in: What’s this going to be like?
I was there to teach a destuckification weekend. It was unbelievably fun. The people were amazing. The work we did was beautiful. Loved it.
Some of what didn’t work, travel-wise.
Flying out of PDX at dark-thirty in the morning. Just one day of prep once I got there.
And then a series of interesting and unexpected Things Going Weird (including a midnight trip to the airport to rescue our beloved Sanders) resulted in a lot of sleeplessness.
What I learned is that I totally thrive on chaos. And I can teach just fine on no sleep.
This can be a good thing. It’s certainly useful in situations where there is chaos anyway.
And making friends with chaos is one part of what we do in Shiva Nata.
But being able to cope well with challenges doesn’t mean I should have to. The next piece: not having to deal well with chaos because things work. Oil the machine.
The second trip was reactive.
As in: Oh god let’s not make any of the mistakes from last time.
The familiar heading into rough territory while trying to avoid repeating the first thing.
I was there for Barbara‘s retreat, and I did a variety of things ridiculously right.
Like scheduling a buffer period before and after. In a gorgeous hotel (thank you, Twitter bar for the recommendations).
And booking a massage the day of the flight. Both ways.
Like running away with Amna at every opportunity.
Like having a lovely lunch with Tara the blonde chicken, and making her give me a ride to the airport because she’s the sweetest person on the planet.
I learned some Useful Things. And there were other parts that were highly stressful that had never even occurred to me to prepare for.
The third trip — this one — is curious, playful, sovereign, silly…
Yes, I’m really into the curious right now. And the playing. And wearing my crown and my stunning red sovereignty boots.
The other quality I’m messing around with is spaciousness.
The toys for teaching yoga, the goody bags, the presents, the supplies we need …. everything has already been shipped to the hotel.
The flights were booked almost a year ago. A two day buffer on each end.
It’s two weeks away and I’ve set up the things I never think of. Like actually getting a haircut. Printing out the handouts. Packing the don’t-forget-these bits.
And Worried Me is okay with things. And Stop-turning-into-an-annoying-grownup Me isn’t being nearly as sarcastic as she usually is.
Because we’re actually kind of having fun with this. Not putting up. Not managing. Not reacting. Not what-if-ing.
Just asking questions about what is needed and what would make things easier. It’s interesting.
This is what I’m working with.
- Where do I resist spaciousness?
- What is comfortable and uncomfortable for me about preparing?
- What is my relationship to “comfortable”?
- Where is the playing?
- Does this need a costume?
- Does this need metaphor mouse?
- What’s the pattern?
- What makes this lighter?
EDIT! The idea that “you can’t prepare for everything”, while true, is not relevant here.
Both because yes, that’s obvious, and because we’re not trying to prepare for everything. We’re trying to learn about our relationship with preparation, which is different.
Okay. You know the drill.
I’m intentionally avoiding telling you what the point I have in mind is.
You can make your own point.
It can be about sovereignty or the Book of You or the dammit list.
You can also play by asking yourself any or all of the questions I’m working with. Or invent your own.
Or share things you do to make traveling and arriving and recovering more …. grounded.
Blanket fort comment zen, as usual.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. Practicing.
We let people have their own experience. We don’t tell people what to do. We notice when and where our stuff comes up, and we work on it. Safe space.
Not getting rid of it. Replacing it.
The message I got from my brain yesterday (my post-flailing newly-descrambled charged-up brain) was as follows:
Replace worry.
To which I said, huh?
And then I got this:
Replace worry with curiosity.
Curiosity.
I like this so much.
And here’s why.
- It’s easier to access elegant and unlikely solutions while wondering what might be possible. Instead of agonizing over the stuck and why the stuck is so stuck.
- Worry drags me down. Curiosity lifts me up.
- Curiosity brings my attention to the gaps and the spaces, instead of to the walls. This is exactly what happens in Shiva Nata.
- Worry is clenched. Curiosity is receptive.
- Invoking curiosity actively challenges me to think creatively, and to anticipate creative solutions.
- It lets me give legitimacy to spending time and energy mulling over a problem or a challenge.
- Curiosity is balanced: it’s where you aren’t ignoring the things that need attention, but you aren’t in the pain of them either.
- Curiosity allows for unlimited options.
And I especially like this because I still get to be in a relationship with worry.
Normally when people say things like “just stop worrying about it” or “don’t worry so much”, I feel frustrated.
Because it’s not that simple. Definitely not for me. I can’t do it. I don’t know how. And it generally seems kind of violent.
Because the traditional ways of “DON’T WORRY!” tend to involve repressing or delegitimizing all the internal stuff that comes together to create anxiety.
It’s like fighting your monsters. Not recommended.
But when I bring in curiosity, I still get to interact with my small, scared, anxious parts. In fact, I get to interact with them even more.
Only now it’s in a way that’s receptive, non-judgmental, inquisitive, and caring. I’m not pushing the worry away. Just extracting its essence.
How I’m going to make use of this today.
1. With an unresolved conflict in my business.
I am going to try to be curious about this person’s motivation instead of worried about what it could mean.
Curious about perfect, simple solutions and where they might be hiding.
Curious about what I need to feel safe.
2. Preparing for my trip to Asheville.
Instead of going gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah about all the stuff that needs to be sorted for that …. curious.
I am curious about what systems and sequences will bring ease and a sense of order to this project.
That’s the question I will ask. And then I’ll write down everything that comes up.
3. Messing around with scheduling the second half of 2011.
Curious about where my time for me will be. Instead of anxious that it won’t happen.
Curious about the different ways a small Skabbatical could find its way in there. Instead of worrying about all the reasons this couldn’t ever work.
Curious about how I can deconstruct some of my programs and do them differently. Instead of trying to just make things fit.
And the main point.
This is not about not worrying. Some things in life are worrisome. They just are.
We still get to give legitimacy to everything that’s hard. We’re totally allowed to have worry. It’s part of being human.
And we get to be curious about what help us get a little breathing room. Moving from tension into possibility.
We get to be curious about perspective — where we’re standing in relation to the worry. So useful.
(And the advanced practice.)
As with most of my posts, this is being written on parallel tracks. There’s the surface teaching and then there’s the other good stuff, for people who are interested in going deeper.
Curious is one of the things we practice with monsters.
Curiosity is part of playing. It’s also a way of making space and expanding the canopy.
And — and this is important — curiosity is one of the fastest ways to exit the middle.
What else?
Play? Comment zen for today. In the giant blanket fort!
Play!
If you have worrisome things you’d like to be curious about, bring them here and we can have a practice space for wondering out loud about what is possible.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a practice. It takes time.
And we try to meet ourselves and our stuff with as much patience as we can muster.
We let people have their own experience. So we can be curious and ask each other questions, and still avoid unsolicited advice-giving in the blanket fort.
Kisses to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads!
Very Personal Ads #68: why do I not have a hammock?
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: sxsw
Here’s what I want:
To do it my way. Which happens to involve lots of hiding and avoiding people. Not particular people, just in general.
And for that, I’ll need the right place to stay.
Requirements:
A small, attractive house or apartment in Austin, for the week of March 11–15.
Just for me, my toy duck and my gentleman friend. No housemates this year.
We’ll need a dining room table or a reasonably sized living room so we can invite people over for dinner.
Ways this could work:
Putting it here.
Maybe I could also ask Karl or Kyeli and Pace if they have ideas or suggestions.
Also, if y’all have good bodywork people in Austin, recommendations would be excellent.
My commitment.
To keep looking and asking.
To remember that not doing things in a way that’s supportive of being highly sensitive is so not worth it. Because it will end in tears! And also someone might lose an eye.
To learn more about what needs to happen for me to feel supported and grounded. And then do that. Hint: avoid the conference center of doom!
Thing 2: ease in conflict resolution.
Here’s what I want:
I have a situation that needs a peaceful resolution.
And I need help remembering that, as my uncle Svevo says, “the ROI on worry is traditionally fairly low”.
Ways this could work:
No idea.
But I’m receptive to possibilities. Gaps and openings that have not shown themselves yet.
My commitment.
I will keep working on the parts of this that are my stuff.
And maintaining faith that we can resolve this thing comfortably, without either side having to give up on anything of vital importance.
Thing 3: Decorations for my non-office office.
Here’s what I want:
Yes, my Wish Room.
And yes, it is still empty.
It’s not so much that it needs things in it as that I could get better at doing nice things for my space.
And feeling comfortable having these things in my space.
Ways this could work:
I could buy flowers. And maybe the world wouldn’t fall apart.
Maybe I can make a list of things I’d like (hammock! cushions! rug! new lamp!) and make a wish on it.
It might also be time for a blanket fort.
My commitment.
To take lots of notes.
And talk to my monsters.
And be silly and playful with this. With lots of permission and the reminder that I don’t have to resolve this one right away. Baby steps count.
Thing 4: next steps on the five year plan.
Here’s what I want:
At the Rally (Rally!) I did a lot of work on charting biggification over the next five years.
Now I have a giant notebook full of ideas, thoughts, and ways to make things happen.
I’d like to actually do something with some of this. Hmmmm.
Ways this could work:
Maybe at Drunk Pirate Council, I could run some of this by the First Mate and we could start a new section of the Log.
Maybe I’ll consult Hiro. I mean, of course I’ll consult Hiro because I always do, on everything. But specifically on this.
Maybe … ?
My commitment.
To keep wishing. To keep asking. To keep flailing.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted a name for my hahahaha-escaping-Thanksgiving plan. And I have one:
The Great Ducking Out.
Also asked for a finalized 2011 schedule, and while I don’t have that just yet … it is finalized through May.
And given how many other things needed projectizing at the Rally, that’s actually pretty great.
I also wanted a better system for keeping track of the things I write Very Personal Ads for, so now I have a Wishing Anthology in a fat black binder. Hooray!
And I wanted amazing people for the Shiva Nata teacher training in February. And nine people signed up.
We can have a few more, so if this is something you’re thinking about, please take a look or ask questions (you’re ready even if you think you couldn’t possibly be, and no, you don’t ever have to actually teach it!).
All in all, a lovely week for asking and discovering Useful Things about my relationship with wanting.
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.