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.
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.
Friday Chicken #115: like an alligator but not.
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.
Yes, it is Friday.
I don’t know how that happened either.
But here we are.
The hard stuff
Tired.
A bunch of things came up last weekend that needed urgent attention. And my Urgency Monsters were loving that.
Anyway, this stuff had to be sorted because my week was going to be full with the Rally (Rally!), so I worked on the weekend. A lot.
Not good.
Some tough decisions.
That’s pretty much never fun.
A lot going on.
And sometimes more than I can take in.
Being misunderstood over and over again.
It’s a terrible feeling.
And extremely frustrating.
Noise! And timing!
It turned out that Rally week was also … the week of Giant Repairs And Renovations for the building where the Playground lives.
So we had paint fumes the first day, banging noises through the vents during shavasana on the second day, hammering on the third day and paint chips rained on us on the fourth day.
Awesome.
The good stuff
Despite all of that, the Rally was still the most amazing thing in the entire world.
Ohmygod. Rally Rally Rally. How I love to Rally.
The insights: exquisite.
The costumes: outrageous. And divine.
The people: I adore them all madly.
We invented new rallying traditions (the Sneaky Moving of the Fairy Door), ate spectacular sandwiches, played with rainbow glitter balls (of love), had a Relegating Rallygator, and learned many useful and surprising things.
Much silliness, joyfulness, revelry and flailing was had by all. Rally!
Getting things done done done at the Rally, of course.
The magical properties of rally do not cease to astound me.
Huge progress was made on the five year plan (which is now the five year CHART).
And with the Great Rebrunching project.
And now I have most of my schedule for 2011 mapped out, and will be able to share it with you next week probably.
Plus there were conversations with negotiators and with foxes, lots of good journaling, working through stucknesses and remembering what I want to do with my life.
Again, I love Rally so much that I can hardly stand it.
A more sovereign response to bullying.
Another work-related conflict that involves a lot of pushing. A new one!
Here’s the part that is good:
I didn’t take things personally. I was able to craft a strong, clear response. And — maybe the best part — I really do have faith that this one can be resolved without resentment.
And while it might take a while to sort this one out, it seems like each time it gets a little easier. And I find that tremendously reassuring.
And not caring about the shoes.
Even though there was a barrage of shoes being thrown at the blog all week because my Bolivia post was on metafilter, and the haters of Hateville came out to play …. it didn’t even move me.
It was fantastic. Like I could see the shoes and the throwing of them, and it just did not matter. And then I could choose to not see them, because flying shoes don’t belong here.*
A magic trick.
Our lovely island here can hold its own culture, even when people who have no context wind up here by accident and think it’s okay to litter. That was a good thing to learn.
* Unless you have flying shoes that are shoes which give you the power to fly. Because I might be interested in those.
The Shivanautical epiphanies.
One of the things that happened at Rally (Rally!) were the insights that came from the hardcore Shiva Nata we were doing. And they were many.
We were all getting clear information and direct instructions that were … just kind of neat.
Anyway, I now know all sorts of things that I didn’t know before. And it’s messing with my head, but in a really good way.
Hey, it didn’t suck being a Giants fan this week.
The normal state of torture torture torture torture was temporarily alleviated this week when we beat the Braves.
Post-season! Not horrible! Though there were some serious moments of DOOM and it was all extremely stressful. But a little bliss to make things right.
Grilled. Cheese. Sandwiches.
Being alive. It is such a good thing to be.
Sometimes I remember that — often when I’m chickening on Fridays, and it is exactly the thing to remember.
This.
I thought this piece from Mariko about “skin in the game” was absolutely terrific.
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.”
Okay, so we came up with about ten different band names at Rally but I left my notebook at the Playground.
Next time. In the meantime, I’m pleased to introduce you to the blah blah something something stylings of:
Drugs & Popcorn
They sound pretty much like what you’d expect. Except that it’s really just one guy.
And some of the lovely presents that arrived this week.
A beyooooootiful knitted shawl (made of old saris and kookiness and love) handmade by Bridget as a gift for the Playground’s Refueling Station.
She was inspired to make it after coming to a Shiva Nata class and meeting the Playground for the first time. And I absolutely adore it. Thank you.
Some smelling salts via Etsy. Yay. A giant pile of stripey socks and fabulous pajamas from Casey. Yay.
And somehow all these other presents just kind of mysteriously showed up at the Playground itself. The delightfully sneaky Rallions bought it snacks and more art supplies and monster stickers and a fuzzy blanket.
Oh, and Elizabeth brought us the flying hippo pig, and then the Schmoppet fell madly in love with it. Sweet.
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.
Magic markers, autonomy, a flying hippo pig.
Yesterday, while rallying it up at the Rally (Rally!), I made a fabulous mess.
Mainly because I decided to ditch Mack (aka Mack the Wife …. last name: Book-Air).
And to projectize with magic markers and construction paper instead.
So of course I have to share some of what came up. And since you’ll never be able to read my atrocious handwriting, I typed up a few bits.
What is POSSIBLE with this project?
It’s theoretically possible — maybe — that:
- aspects of this could be easier than previously assumed
- the sequence is simple
- there is not as much left to be done as I think there is
- I don’t have to do this alone
- if I list out all my questions or put them on cards, there will not be that many
- it can begin before the entire sequence is ready
- it can happen in a workless way and this can be the basis for everything I do in the future.
What?
What is a WORKLESS WAY?
It contains these elements:
[+ the structure holds itself] [+ play] [+ silliness] [+ experimentation] [+ built-in rest] [+ re-usable sequences]
You follow the map. You ring the bell. You channel discernment.
You call ALL ABOARD.
You invoke completion. You process the process. You pay attention.
Plant wishes. Ponder wishes. Spend time with your wishes.
My WISHES for this project.
Clarity, sovereignty, simplicity.
Firm and loving boundaries.
Not a lot of moving parts.
Obvious sequences.
The culture is the container, not the people and not the content.
[+ self-sustaining] [+ momentum] [+ wholeness] [+ autonomy]
Autonomy?
What do I mean when I say AUTONOMY?
I mean:
[+ freedom] [+ play] [+independent] [+ mutual respect] [+ crown] [+ healthy boundaries] [+ spaciousness] and [+ support].
I can do what I want.
And not just in a “no one gets to tell me when to go to bed” way.
More: this is what I stand for and I’m putting it on my dammit list, dammit.
It means saying my time is my own, and truly believing. And acting like I believe it.
It means sacred approach. It means not everything requires a response.
It means the project is about autonomy, and it generates autonomy both for me and the people who will benefit from it.
And it is created in this way of autonomy. And it allows me to have fun.
What are the ELEMENTS that will make this project fun?
Letting Shiva Nata generate unlikely, elegant, simple solutions. And admiring them!
Goofball rituals for closure and transitions.
Adaptation. Being flexible enough to adapt gracefully to change.
My excitement about teaching this stuff.
The ship. The garden. The island. The forest. The compass.
Remembering that not everything has to happen the hard way, even though I try to make it happen the hard way.
If that’s true, what does EASE look like?
- wide open spaces
- space on my calendar
- no expectations
- wide horizon
- support (and surprises) from my Board of Surprisers
- the structures and forms that I create can hold themselves
- and then my job is to the patterns and set the culture and infuse everything with kookiness and love
- creative sparks
- safe hiding places
- lasers, because we kind of have to have lasers
Yes.
So that was my morning.
Plus I talked to a bunch of monsters and blew bubbles and ate pretzel sticks. While discovering some extremely surprising things that I’m not ready to talk about yet.
And the Schmoppet met the flying hippo-pig and they became Best Friends Forever.
Yay!
Play with me? Comment zen in the comment blanket fort.
You can think out loud (only if you feel like it, of course) about any of these themes.
Or ask yourself any or all of these questions and see what comes up.
Or admire the Schmoppet for his crazed schmoppet-ness.
As always, we all have our stuff. It’s a process. We try to let people have their own experience, which is why we avoid telling each other what to do.
And we try to meet ourselves and each other with patience and permission.
Kisses all around. I hope to be able to show you some more Rally (Rally!) pictures soon. SCHMOPPET!
p.s. Hat tip to Hiro for planting the word autonomy in my brain, which was just the thing I needed yesterday.