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.
Amnesty.
A few weeks ago I talked about establishing culture, and my sense of what that means.
No one has yet written the Lonely Planet guide to The Fluent Self, Inc. — pirate ship at large, but when I think about the qualities that come together to make this space what it is, one of the hugely important ones is freedom.
But not just freedom. Independence. And not just independence, but amnesty.
Amnesty for guilt.
One of the things that’s big when we work on stuck things is the clearing out of guilt, which also involves working with permission.
Permission to be where we are — in the guilt, if that’s what is going on.
Granting ourselves permission to not want to be in it. Giving permission to not know how to move through it, and permission in the form of the reminder that we do not have to stay there forever.
Guilt really sticks up the works, and keeps us from seeing what is real, what is needed, what would help.
And, so often, this isn’t deep existential guilt over Something We Regret. It’s habitual guilt. Discomfort as a way of being.
Oh, just some of the things people feel guilty about, pretty much all the time:
(Not everyone, of course — a lot of us, though.)
Not joining in on the Friday Chicken. Or being gone for a while. Saying too much, saying too little, saying it wrong, whatever that means.
Not writing Very Personal Ads. Or forgetting to. Or not wanting to. Or not knowing what to say. Having too many wishes or too few.
For having possibly thrown a shoe or for being upset that someone else threw a shoe, or for not being over it already.
For not doing a practice, or not enough, or not getting it right enough or for forgetting that it works.
In a group context, people worry about not checking in enough or too much. Or being too lengthy or too terse. Or being too something and not enough something else.
For being outsiders or resenting being outsiders.
With my clients, it’s about not having made enough progress on that one thing or not having implemented the other one.
It’s all okay, though.
It’s all okay by me.
It’s always acceptable in this community to not know what to say or how to say it. We are where we are, in the hard or the stuck or not at all.
Sometimes we doubt ourselves or second-guess. It’s all fine.
How amnesty works in the culture of this blog and my business in general.
My guilt-free email policy.
Back when I still did email, I had something called my guilt-free email policy, which I was pretty much constantly referencing.
The basic idea:
Unless you’re my bookkeeper or attorney, you don’t ever have to apologize for not getting back to me. If I need a response, I’ll ask for one.
You’ll respond when you respond. I’ll respond when I respond. No apologizing necessary. And anyway, not everything requires a response.
Creating space for me.
In fact, my email sabbatical itself is a form of amnesty for me.
It allows me to not have to interact with the hundreds of daily wants, requests, complaints, needs of everyone who encounters my world.
It gives me spaciousness to create, and to take care of myself.
Space to give lovingly of my time here on the blog each day instead of constantly ranting here and everywhere about how much I hate everything. (Now I just do that on Fridays, which is totally better).
Birthday amnesty.
This isn’t mine, it’s Kelly’s.
She gives herself — and you — Birthday Amnesty!
You never have to remember anyone’s birthday again. Or feel bad about forgetting hers. It’s brilliant.
Amnesty doesn’t mean not taking responsibility.
It’s not a get-out-of-responsibility pass.
It’s a get-out-of-stuck pass, which is totally different.
We still own what’s ours. We still have to stop and say, “Wow. My stuff is coming up. And it’s mine. Still working on that.”
But we do get to put down the heaviness, the guilt, the unending wondering if we’re doing it wrong.
Amnesty is yours as a citizen of this space.
It’s an inherent quality of this particular world — the one that exists here on the blog, and at the Playground and everywhere I teach.
It is always there. You can always claim it. You can assume it’s there for you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it. It’s yours.
And you don’t need me to give this permission to you, either. Because you have sovereignty and this is part of your birthright.
Amnesty is built into the culture of this place. You get to grant amnesty to yourself or to anybody in your life, whenever you want to. Or all the time.
Hiro said, about amnesty: “It means we can all come home.” That’s exactly what it is.
Permission!
And comment zen for today …
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We let people be where they are, which means not giving advice unless someone asks for it.
And yes, this amnesty thing applies to commenting too.
Whether it’s permission to say something (if you’re a Beloved Lurker who wants to say something).
Or permission to not have to engage (if you’re a Beloved Lurker who doesn’t need to say anything). Or to hide, if saying things feels scary.
Permission to come back whenever without guilt.
Permission to not have to check in ever, if you don’t feel like it.
All of it. Is okay. By me. Always. It just is.
p.s. Tomorrow is the once-a-year bohemian salon — fun will be had.
Very Personal Ads #64: trust, pirates, surprises
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: Seeking a new Tech Pirate!
Here’s what I want:
My business, The Fluent Self, Inc, pirate ship at large, needs a new Tech Pirate.
Oh my dear potential new Tech Pirate!
You are a patient explainer. You laugh at gremlins. You have a good heart. You are an independent contractor.
You will monitor, backup, and provide “Oh my god everything just exploded” service for our dedicated web server slice (hosted at slicehost.com).
Basically, if one of our sites vanishes or breaks, we want you to be on call to diagnose/fix the server problem, and (if necessary) reinstall our sites from the backed-up files.
You know how to work with MySQL databases, and PHP doesn’t scare you.
You know how to install, modify and upgrade Moodle (very important) and WordPress (less important) installations.
You care about the work we do here. You care about clear communication with us. You are familiar — at least conceptually — with NVC and compassionate communication. You respect our trust.
Ways this could work:
I’m really hoping that one of my lovely blog readers will know who this person is (or maybe even will be this person).
Open to recommendations.
If this is you, please get in touch with the First Mate by sending an email or filling out a form and let him know what you can do for us.
My commitment.
Same as the last time I asked for this (wow, fourteen months ago) — just more specific.
I am patient. I am fair. I am appreciative of work well-done. Also of trying. And of communicating honestly and openly.
Thing 2: Trust.
Here’s what I want:
So I’m really noticing how hard for me it is to ask for support in the business.
And also those contracted places of heartbreak. Of once burned twice shy.
That place where you’re ready for the new but the old still shows up occasionally when you don’t expect it.
Noticing how much I wanted to jump in and over-emphasize. To say no really the “honestly and openly” part is so important to me.
Noticing the pockets of regret about how long I’ve allowed a state of not good and not loving to exist in my business in various places.
So I don’t know what my ask is but it has to do with trust and faith, and experiences that are peaceful and supportive.
Ways this could work:
I can ask.
I can do Dance of Shiva on this in order to find out what is tangled and how it needs untangling.
I can write and walk and meditate and breathe and color in my monsters.
My commitment.
One thing I am certain of. My company is a truly beautiful place.
And it’s time that I changed my approach: I am going to care for it. Actively, not passively.
Walking the grounds. Removing everything that is not harmonious or that doesn’t match the culture that I love so much. Not from frustration but from love.
And if this means taking my time to find capable, strong, kind, caring people to sail with me, then so be it.
Thing 3: Oof. Facebook.
Here’s what I want:
So I have been avoiding having a Facebook page for the company.
For various reasons.
And now Maryann and Jacquelyn are teaching a class and I adore both of them and want to take it.
But first we should probably put something up on that stupid page.
Or, alternately, figure out why so much resistance.
Ways this could work:
This could get worked on at Drunk Pirate Council on Thursday.
Again, more Shiva Nata to destuckify.
Maybe if I write about this some more and process the process, I’ll figure out where the resistance lives and what kind of reassurances it wants.
My commitment.
To pay attention.
To forgive myself for having so little interest in doing things that I think I’m “supposed to”.
To release as many “supposed to” rules as I can.
To blow bubbles and laugh and wear a silly hat and dance with my duck and twirl my invisible mustaches whenever I start to take any of this too seriously.
To find out when I’m using worry as a distraction. To find out when I am making mountains out of … things that are not mountains.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I wanted insights on evening rituals. And yes. The fact that I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow does seem to imply that they need to happen before I get into bed.
It’s actually pretty hilarious that I hadn’t factored that into things. So. Slowly slowly. But I have some ideas, and we’re practicing.
Then I wanted to tell people about my bohemian salon of a yearly freebie class. Which I forgot about. But a ton of people signed up anyway. And I am almost decided on the theme. Will say for sure tomorrow.
I wanted progress with my office-that-is-not-an-office (and in the process of becoming a Wish Room, whatever that is).
And my gentleman friend found me the most perfect shelves ever — at the Rebuilding Center, and also picked up some other gorgeous things at a vintage furniture store. Progress!
No idea about Dana’s house yet, but I am still wishing good things for her too.
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 #111: iguanas everywhere
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.
This was a ridiculously hard week. And I’m not even sure why. It just was.
All I know is I ran into a bunch of walls.
And it was not fun.
The hard stuff
Brain fog.
Things that would normally be slightly heavy were heavier.
Things that would normally be kind of fun, like choosing colors for painting Hoppy House were stressful and confusing.
Lots of Inowanna Iguana. Inowanna!
General crappiness.
Things being in between.
Things breaking and falling apart.
Things that didn’t need fixing now needing fixing.
Not being in the mood for any of it.
Systems fixes taking forever.
Man. Still dealing with fallout from all the time I spent last year not being on the bridge.
Making systems changes and then finding all sorts of ridiculousness in the systems. I have been putting this off for months because it bores the hell out of me.
But not as much as it stresses me out to have complicated systems.
Much of this week was spent editing stuff in the Pirate Ship Log to turn ten step processes into five step ones. Which might be why my brain is so miserable.
From this:
STEP 10:. To view the upcoming charges in shopping cart, click Orders –> Recurring Orders. That will bring up a list of scheduled charges & will show you the date the next charge will occur. If you want to change that date for any of those orders, click the “Edit” link in that order’s row. Then on the next screen, enter whatever date you want the charge ot occur in the “Date Next” box, and scroll to the bottom of the page and click “save changes.”
… to this:
STEP 5. To view upcoming charges + dates: Orders –> Recurring Orders. “Edit” to change dates. Next screen: enter new date, scroll to bottom + select “save changes.”
Yes. I know none of this makes sense to you. But for me, heaven.
Especially since these are just reminders to people who already use the systems and know how they work.
You know? I don’t even know why I’m chickening.
This week just kind of sucked. And I’m not sure why.
And now it’s over. Let’s find the good.
The good stuff
It’s Friday. Which means this ridiculous week is over.
It’s about damn time.
Changes.
While the spending of several hours making changes to systems and sequences was not pleasant for my head …
Having that done feels really, really good.
It’s as if there are parts of my ship that I avoid. Which is not good for a pirate queen.
So now I’m back on the bridge. And things are clean and clear.
My clients. I adore them.
We are both having fun and cooking up the most brilliant things together.
Very exciting.
And last Friday I had a client in town for a whole day with me (something I only do a few times a year) and it was extremely sparkly and great. We neutralized hundreds of monsters, came up with a spectacular and extremely unconventional business plan, and problem-solved like crazy.
I cannot put into words the amount of kooky impossible-to-explain magical untangling that happened. But I can say this: when amazing things are happening for people I care about, that really does change things for me as well.
The napping.
Very much the napping.
It was good.
And the tramping.
Now that it’s not a million degrees outside anymore, I am back on the tramp.
Bounce bounce bounce!
Speaking of iguanas…
I finally posted something on the Shiva Nata blog to answer the What’s a Shivanaut?
question.
And ended up letting myself fall down that rabbit hole for a while. Which was good.
Because I wrote six posts.
Including one which was just the most massive iguana ever, and had been weighing on me for months. Sigh of relief.
New things. Like The Slants! And some old things.
Obsessively listening to The Slants.
And by “listening”, I mean “doing Shiva Nata at top speed until my brain falls out”
And then I watched Mumford (which I hadn’t seen since it came out), and it was even more of a lovely film than I’d remembered.
What a sweet, perfect meditation on identity. And in so many forms. How we identify with roles, pain, place. How we hide from ourselves or aspects of ourselves. Imposter syndrome. Pleasure.
Recommended.
And … live from the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Background: 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.”
Portland had its big music festival last week (MFNW), and there were plenty of fabulously named bands — real ones. As well as all sorts of visitors to town (who are all these skinny people who look as if they care about their eyebrows?).
Anyway. I didn’t go, but I read the Willamette Week reviews and my god did they come up with some awesome categories to describe the types of music being played. Really, each one of those should be a band. My hat. It comes off.
So. I have to share some of these delightful names that should be bands. That are each just one guy. Obviously.
Cast your vote for the new Fake Band of The Week!
Fake Bands I’m pretty sure I would like: Rock and Lull, Chillwave, Mexican Ramones, Smartass Punk, Appalachian Hellfire, George Division
Fake Bands I am … intrigued by: Melody Freaks, Everything Is Ruined, Farmhouse Gospel, Glitch Hop
Fake Bands that kind of scare me. Or would, if they existed: Modest Mouseketeers, Brat Rock, Thrash Compactor, Meshugge Pop
And my personal favorite:
Minstrel of the Apocalypse
I would totally go to see them. Except that it’s really just one guy. Voting starts now.
And … stuff I read this week week.
This post about Shivapiphanies. Awesome. She’s @EleanorWragg on Twitter.
Go read this guy’s blog. It’s called Poor Impulse Control, it’s got a great tagline, and I’m afraid he’s going to stop. So leave him a comment and say hey. Thanks.
Also, I pretty much never read coaching blogs but one of my people sent me to this and so then I had to get a bunch of red sponge noses for the Playground.
I’m not crazy but I’ll be crazy for you. Hilarious. As if I weren’t a big enough Ryan North fan already. I love this way too much.
And my beloved Chris Zydel wrote about radical self acceptance and turnips.
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. And of course also a tzom kal if you’re into that kind of thing. And HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HIRO (tomorrow)! xox
Shivaguanas!
Today I stumbled into an absolutely massive pile of iguanas.
If you are not familiar with the iguanas, I’m referring to the Inowanna variety: those things you just don’t feel like doing.
Today’s iguanas are all at least tangentially related to Shiva Nata, the brain-training practice that has altered pretty much everything in my life for the better.
Things on my Inowanna list pile:
Inowanna!
- updating the Shiva Nata blog, that hasn’t been touched in over two months.
- answering a bunch of questions
- updating what events are happening when and where
- updating the Shivanautical faq so we can press the pooblish on that
So of course I’m going to be processing the process.
Because the thing with iguanas (just like with monsters) is this:
Ignoring them doesn’t help. Fighting with them doesn’t help.
Pretty much your only option — other than directly doing Dance of Shiva on the stuck in order to get some insights — is to commit to interacting with the iguanas* and with yourself.
In the most conscious, intelligent, loving way you can stand.
Right. Not there yet, but headed in the general direction.
* Or at least interacting with the fact that they exist, if not with the iguanas themselves.
The Shivaguana Internal Rally starts today.
I’m creating a non-container of a container — more like a sukkah or a pirate ship to spend some time with this.
A mini-Rally. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe a couple hours.
But I’m going to dance it up. And ask questions.
To find out what my discomfort has to say, where my walls are, what the iguanas need to feel safe, and what needs untangling.
I don’t have to get anything done. I’m just collecting Useful Information.
There will be video game moments and monster conversations and much letting things be the way they are.
As well as much letting myself not like things being the way they are.
And putting things to bed. Possibly including myself.
Anyone else want to go iguana-watching with me?
To say this:
“I don’t need to fix you yet, I don’t need to understand this yet, but I’m here, and I’m peeking in your general direction and I’m willing to learn one thing about what the next piece is.”
Yes?
And … comment zen for today.
Dealing with iguanas is hard and painful. Or can be.
I do not even slightly mean to imply that it isn’t.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. Sometimes it’s old and tangled and full of hurt. I’m so sorry.
Here’s what we don’t do in the comments: unsolicited advice. Really, it’s the best way to avoid the spitting iguanas.
Ten things?
Who knows what madness was going on last night.
But I woke up this morning with that clenched, tight sense of GAAAAAAH Seventeen million things to do that all need to be done right this second or everything will fall apart completely.
Having spent many years getting acquainted with my fuzzy-but-loud Urgency Monsters, I knew this probably wasn’t true.
But it felt true in my body.
So in the interest of consciously, lovingly and patiently moving elements of this pattern around (the way we do with Shiva Nata), I am experimenting.
Today I will do ten things.
Not seventeen million.
Not even going to try to play the well-as-many-of-these-as-I-can-despite-knowing-the-futility game.
And I’m not letting the List-Makers of Doom come up with the ten.
I’m asking for ten qualities I want to experience today. And each one can give me a thing to do or not do.
And that’s it.
Doom Interlude I
Doom Monsters: This is one of your forced vacations! We won’t have it.
Me: No. This is what is going to happen when you wake me up with visions of impending doom. I get that this feels uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable for me too. And it’s an experiment.
Doom Monsters: It won’t work.
Me: Well, you kind of say that a lot. So let’s leave it to the internal investigators and find out what happens.
Ten qualities.
- Sweetness.
- Rest.
- Trust.
- Certainty.
- Expectancy.
- Giving.
- Receiving.
- Quiet.
- Love.
- Sovereignty (the quality of being comfortable in the kingdom of your body and your mind and not caring what other people think about that).
Doom Interlude II
Doom Monsters: You are delusional. There are Actual Things that have to be done today. You can’t just get out of them because you turned into this dumbass hippie yoga teacher several years. We want YOU back! Come back!
Me: Oh, sweetie. That has to be really hard for you. I love that you miss this version of me that you remember with such fondness. You know what I remember about her?
Doom Monsters: Uh oh.
Me: Yeah. How you used to scream at her all the time. And how she would just shut down. You liked that she was compliant. But sometimes she was depressed to the point of not-functioning because your worldview was so overwhelming.
Doom Monsters: We were just trying to protect her from the Doom.
Me: I know, guys. Your heart is totally in the right place. And at the same time, you know, because we’ve talked about this … yelling and harassing is not the effective way to help me get things done.
Doom Monsters: Theoretically, yes. But we just want you to be okay. And it is so, so impossibly hard to believe that the stuff you’re trying will work.
Me: I appreciate that you want me to be okay. That’s what I want too. And you don’t have to believe anything. We’ll try it for a day and take notes.
Ten Things.
- Doing my morning rituals. Love.
- Going for a long walk. Trust.
- Mailing Hiro her birthday present. Sweetness.
- Having a longer conversation with Anxious Me. Receiving.
- Thinking — not planning but thinking about — my next Rally. Sovereignty.
- 15 minutes of old Turkish lady yoga. Certainty.
- Journaling about a wish I have. Expectancy.
- Preparing for client consultation this afternoon. Quiet.
- Call with client. Giving.
- Taking a nap or reading in bed. Rest.
Doom Interlude III
Doom Monsters: This is insanity. You can’t put things on your list that get done anyway. This should be ten things aside from client calls or your usual morning rituals. You don’t even understand how lists work! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Me: I can tell you’re feeling really upset and anxious about this. Because you care and you don’t want me to get hurt?
Doom Monsters: Obviously.
Me: What about how we agreed to experiment?
Doom Monsters: But your experiment is stupid. Just saying. And it’s also doomed!
Me: There’s really no way to find out unless you stop trying to sabotage it. I think you’re afraid it will work and that I’ll stop talking to you altogether because I won’t need you anymore.
Doom Monsters: Okay.
Me: I’m right, huh?
Doom Monsters: Please don’t leave us.
Me: We’re building a new relationship, remember?. And if you can stop dooming me all the time, maybe you can stay in a different form.
Doom Monsters: grumble-grumble-grumble okay
Ten Things.
It might not even be ten.
It might be more than ten.
It might just be talking to Doom Monsters all day and remembering how much they love me.
Remembering how I don’t have to agree to being loved like that. Remembering that things can change.
When it gets hard, which it probably will, I’m going to remember that this is an experiment. And that, statistically speaking, experiments like this have done a great deal to keep me from falling apart completely and having to go on Emergency Vacation.
I get to change the rules. I get to wear silly hats. I get to be afraid.
My Doom Monsters have some pretty compelling arguments, after all.
They know I’m the sole bread winner (god, that is such a Doom Monster phrase) in our home. They know this company is my baby and that I am a sucker for self-sacrifice. They know how much I care.
Patterns, again.
The thing I know from being a Shivanaut is this:
There are many ways to interrupt a pattern. They don’t need to be violent. And the best way to do it is with curiosity, playfulness and a sense of humor.
To be willing to flail around in the chaos for a while, knowing that whatever new form emerges is going to be useful.
(The last Doom Interlude)
Doom Monsters: You know what people are going to say about this, right? How nice for you, working from home. How nice it must be having all this time to just go for a walk or take a nap. That must be so NICE.
Me: What are you saying?
Doom Monsters: We know you. We know how the first three years of running the business you were a sleepless wreck, working nights and weekends and both harder and longer hours than any straight job.
Me: Of course you know that. You were there. It was all your fault.
Doom Monsters: Yeah but the people who read your blog don’t know that. They’ll be off in their own stuff about how hard their lives are, and it will just annoy them that you’re blowing off your work.
Me: I’m not blowing off — oh, right. Smoke and mirrors. Okay. You’re feeling anxious because you need to know that people won’t misunderstand me?
Doom Monsters: Yes.
Me: That’s sort of sweet.
Doom Monsters: Gaaaaaaaaaaah. Stop. Being. Understanding. What if they misunderstand?
Me: Well, that would suck. But it’d just be because they don’t know how things really are. Anyway, they’re sovereign beings and can have whatever reaction they want.
Doom Monsters: Oh. So you’re going to be okay?
Me: I don’t know. That’s the point. It’s a practice. We’re experimenting. Experimenting and taking notes.
Doom Monsters: Oh.
And comment zen for today …
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
We let people have their own experience, which means — among other things — that we don’t give advice, unless people ask for it (and you can generally assume that I’m not).
You’re more than welcome to share stories of your own, including any past or potential experiments in interacting with the doom and carving out space for yourself.
Kisses to the Commenter Mice, the Beloved Lurkers and anyone who reads.