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.
Not so much a performance review as a Performance Revue!
One of the quirks of self-employment:
There aren’t generally procedures in place to stop and acknowledge how hard you work and how much you have done and how much you care.
This came up again yesterday during a chicken with some colleagues.
That sense of come on! I want a promotion! I want a corner office! I want all the ridiculous amounts of work that happens behind the scenes to be admired and noticed!
So of course now I am unable to stop dreaming up unlikely ways that we could do this for ourselves.
Something more fun (and less intimidating) than a “performance review” … and more profound than just having a beer and awarding yourself thousands of sparklepoints, which is what I usually do.
Performance. Of course!
I called upon my favorite superhero (Metaphor Mouse!) to deconstruct “performance review” for me.
Nothing conclusive so far, but some fun and thought-provoking associations. Like cheshbon nefesh, that perfect Hebrew phrase that is, loosely, “soul accounting”.
And the truth is, while I bristle at the thought of anyone “reviewing” my work, performance does sound like fun.
Like my own personal drag show. Like cabaret. Like dancing in the park.
Like the way I am playing at business. And in business. And with business.
I play at business in many ways:
In the daily acts of steering the pirate ship (that proudly flies the Jolly Selma!).
At the Playground, my center, which I have been alternately describing as a glam pirate zen yoga studio or “preschool for adults!”.
When I wear my red sovereignty boots and my giant feather boa.
When the First Mate and I go have Drunk Pirate Council instead of “meetings”.
And when I scramble to find matching socks so I can pass as a grown up when we have to council with our CPA.
So this act of reviewing my performance could be something playful and silly and hilarious too.
The timing, also, is perfect.
I generally do go into contemplative mode towards the end of August.
This week marks five years since I launched this website (not the blog but the site) and The Fluent Self received its name.
Five years!
Not only should I totally get a corner office and an awesome plaque (wait, I already have both of those things), but it is definitely time to have some reviewing.
As long as it’s going to be sweet, deguiltified, appreciative, playful and fun … I’m in!
More of a revue than a review. But here’s how we did it.
I put on my pirate queen costume.
Then me from five years ago this week came and sat in the center of this gigantic pink couch. Which is weird, because the Playground doesn’t have a couch, but I’m just telling you what happened.
She was almost immediately joined by me from five years from now and also me from next week.
And the three of them were all smooshed together in the middle, hugging and exclaiming over each other and giggling. Like at a crazy reunion slumber party.
Then we all put on our lopsided tiaras and raised a toast to the good ship The Fluent Self, Inc. and Five Years Ago Me was astounded that it’s possible to have a corporation and not be gross and evil.
She was extremely relieved. And then Next Week Me was kind of teasing her a little until Five Years From Now Me said, sweetie, you aint seen NOTHING yet.
The four of us decided to appreciate these five years.
We acknowledged the hard (and how freaking impossibly hard the hard has been), and glowed happily over the good.
We named all the qualities that make up the culture of this crazy, silly, playful world that we have brought into being.
And pointed (literally, with these glow-in-the-dark sticks) at everything we appreciate and everything that makes us laugh.
Here’s what we are appreciating most at the moment:
The culture.
The kooky, sweet, funny, loving, warm, non-judgmental, everyone’s-freak-flag-gets-to-fly-just-as-high way of being that sets the tone for every single space in the business.
For example, this blog. It is really, truly the safest, most permission-filled, most respectful place I have ever been on the internet. The commenter mice here are amazing.
There is so much kindness (for me, for themselves, for each other) while still maintaining complete freedom to be sarcastic, cranky, grumpy, silly, obscene, whatever.
The sweetness, the acceptance, the hilarity, the curiously respectful way of relating … this is even more palpable at the Kitchen Table and even more so at live events that we do.
If I were to write a Lonely Planet style guide to my business, there would be a lot of stuff about how awesome the locals are.
The safety.
Safe spaces are a really big deal to me.
So far everything I’ve created has been a form of sanctuary. Literally or figuratively or both. Places to hide. Blanket forts! Invisibility cloaks!
Ways to feel safe being in your you-ness, and bringing more of it into the world.
Ways to take yourself seriously while still having permission to be completely silly and ridiculous.
Ways to process the process without being impressed by the fact that there are stucknesses.
The freedom.
Freedom to flail around and make mistakes and laugh and cry.
Freedom to dress up in costumes and not know what you do for a living and to avoid the things you love.
Freedom to not have to love your monsters and not to have to fight with them either.
Freedom to talk to yourself. And to be a total wackopants. And to sometimes care about things so deeply that it hurts and sometimes not remember what you care about at all.
To be who you are and where you are and how you are. And to have moments when you don’t want to.
Oh, we reviewed so many things.
But the main thing that was fun about revisiting these past five years was the spark of hopefulness.
If my business has gradually given itself the freedom and permission to be more goofy, more playful, more childlike, more wise, more sovereign, more hysterically funny (mostly just to me) …. yay.
And it seems to bode well for the future. Five Years From Now Me totally approves of bringing the silliness.
So my sense is that things are just going to become even more lighthearted and go even more deep.
There will dancing and singing in the streets. There will be worlds unto themselves. There will be chaos and there will be new form. There will be goodbyes and beginnings. There will be trust and faith and wishing.
There will be pirates. There will be pie.
I have seen what is, and it is good. And I have seen what is possible, and it smells like lilacs and wet earth and happy tears. But also like Roller Derby and sailing ships and something equally badass but entirely indescribable.
And … comment zen for today.
Reviewing things is totally hard. I do not mean even slightly to imply that it isn’t.
All this Looking Back involved remembering a lot of pain, a lot of fear, a lot of anxiousness.
Much comforting was involved. And support. And giving myself reminders that even the really crappy stuff has brought good things (and that I’m still allowed to hate it and resent it, if that’s where I’m at with it).
Anyway. Wishing you love for all the things you’re working on. Love and freedom and permission and safety and as much goofiness as feels comfortable.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. And we try to let everyone have their own experience.
Sparklepoints and beer for everyone who would like some. Kisses.
Very Personal Ads #60: a wild rumpus of costumery!
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: More costumes for the Playground.
Here’s what I want:
One of the most marvelous things about the recent Rally (Rally!) we held at the Playground was this:
Somehow everyone spontaneously decided to raid the costume box in the Treasure Room to adorn themselves with silliness for the evening Chicken.
It was awesome. Even better? The collection of extremely fabulous costumes that Cynthia brought for us to play with while rallying.
Now that the Rally is over, I am hyper-aware of how limited our collection is.
I would like to have more silliness! More crazy hats! More feather boas! More unlikely and ridiculous things to wear exuberantly.
And, while I’m asking, I would also love to have one of those … it’s like a rack? on wheels? to hang clothing on? … whatever it’s called, I wish to have one at the Playground.
Ways this could work:
Let’s see.
I might happen upon some good costume elements at a neighborhood yard sale.
A mysterious patron might donate some.
There could be a crazy thing like a costume sale and someone could tell me about it.
Some of my readers might have wonderful things for us. Or ideas about where we might find them. Or both.
My commitment.
To be receptive to just how many ways there are through which these delightful garments can make their way to the Playground.
To remember all the bizarre and beautiful things than can happen when you incorporate costumes into everything you do.
To dress up! To wear my sovereignty boots and my pirate queen necklace and ride the hobby horse. To share pictures when we have more costumes.
Thing 2: a table.
Here’s what I want:
Our dear Hoppy House has an empty dining room again (long story).
I have been looking for the perfect table (locally made, reclaimed wood, broad, simple, a work of love) for it.
But then I keep tripping over things.
There’s a lot of discomfort for me in this.
So I want the table to find me or for me to find it. But really I want to work through whatever stuff is coming up.
Ways this could work:
Of course. I can process the process by writing about it.
I can ask for table recommendations.
And write love letters to the table and to the me who is feeling weird about it.
My commitment.
To be patient with myself while I work through whatever it is that needs attention right now.
To remember that whatever this is has to be legitimate, even if it’s also feeling awkward and embarrassing and stupid to have issues about a table.
To invite Denise over for dinner to be the first official guest at the Hoppy House table when it comes.
Thing 3: more understandings related to a crazy Shivanautical epiphany.
Here’s what I want:
So at the Rally last week, we did a fair amount of Shiva Nata for extra brain-scrambling goodness.
From the delicious chaos emerged all sorts of big understandings, realizations and pieces of intriguing information.
But the one that is messing with me the most:
I got this very clear understanding, in five words:
Not everything requires a response.
To which my brain said WHAT?!?!
And whenever I poked at it to find out more, I just got the same thing but slower and louder.
Not. Everything. Requires. A. Response.
Fascinating! But what am I supposed to do with this? Other than the obvious: not respond!
Ways this could work:
I can journal about this. Ask questions. Interview various parts of myself.
Talk to my monsters and my negotiators and the Greek chorus in my spine.
Brainstorm various situations in which a response might or might not be required and see what happens when I bring this sentence in.
I don’t know! It’s breaking my head. But in a really, really good way.
My commitment.
To be curious. Receptive. Loving.
To be willing to interact with the idea that I am in fact wrong about all sorts of things, and that I might also be wrong about what requires a response and when.
To take lots of notes and share some of them with you.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted progress on a HAT (a Havi’s Announcing a Thing page), and boy did that ever happen. The Rally did brilliant things.
Not only did I write all the copy but I also planned the entire schedule, the content, the exercises and created an entirely new way of handling applications. GENIUS! Yay, Rally.
The next thing I wanted was rest, and I got some. Not really as much as was necessary, but significantly more than I’d thought possible.
And right people for Hiro’s call. She got a gazillion sign-ups so that totally worked. Thanks, guys!
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 all your Very Personal Ads! So glad for everyone doing this with me.
Friday Chicken #107: blanket forts for everyone!
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 week zooooooomed by for me.
As we said at the Rally (Rally!), “time flies when your arms are flailing around and you have no idea what you’re doing!”
Actually we were referring to the hot Shivanauttery that was happening but really it describes the whole week.
Anyway. What an OUTRAGEOUSLY FUN WEEK!
With its share of hard too. And we’ll start with the hard. Because that’s where we start.
The hard stuff
So much tired!
Projectizing is a lot of work.
And actively processing the process is a lot of work.
Anyway, I’m beat.
No time to myself!
First because we had three days of visitors and house guests and dinners out, and then because of Rallying it up for four days.
I want to lock myself in a library or something.
Not walking enough.
My daily walks (which do a lot for general clarity and mood) didn’t happen either.
This time it was first because of how ridiculously hot it was and then because of Rally prep.
Yesterday morning was the first long walk I got and it was brilliant.
The heat wave. It makes me stupid.
You’d think having lived a third of my life in the middle east would have given me some kind of immunity but no.
Come on, Portland. Let’s get back to cool and drizzling. You’re kind of freaking me out.
Context. Don’t leave home without it!
First we had actual trollishness on the blog, which never happens. Maybe the first time in over a year (and kindly deleted by the First Mate).
Then there was a total shitstorm on Twitter over something I said.
Anyway. Context, people. It’s so obvious to me that everything I say is said with a wink that I do forget not everyone knows this.
But when I am feeling upset because I think someone else has thrown a shoe, I usually just assume good intentions and ask them for context.
Apparently this is not a widely practiced thing. Because you would not believe the barrage of shoes flying in my direction. Ludicrous and annoying. Well, annoying because ludicrous.
Missing things that used to be.
And knowing that this is not from now and not useful … while still in the hard and the hurting over it.
The good stuff
Rally!
The fun! The hilarity! The spontaneous wild rumpus-ing!
What an outstanding group of lovely, sweet, smart, goofball people. Adore.
And the extreme getting-done-ness. I don’t even know how to talk about it. This is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
Also, the Rally being even more amazing than I thought it was going to be.
I am in awe of how much I got done.
And how great it all is.
This is an actual tweet from Jesse:
Q: You see a Queen, Flowers, Ziggy Stardust & Shiva’s Horns sitting in a circle & the Pirate Queen walks in…where are you? A: The Rally.
Yes. Moments of genius. Drag names. Superpowers. Spectacular and hilarious costumes. Hysterical giggling. And many a Victory Dance. I mean: WIKTORY!
Someone else described it as “ten thousand times more awesome than I’d imagined it would be, when I was already convinced that it was going to be incredible” — yeah, it was kind of like that.
My mind. It is reeling.
I learned how to draw labyrinths!
Which is great, because I am obsessed with labyrinthing. And also because it is a way to walk patterns when I am not doing Shiva Nata.
It was both harder and easier than I imagined it would be.
And I am determined to paint one on the wall of my Pirate Queen Quarters at the Playground.
Possibly I will also make one out of socks on the floor of my office at home.
Friends!
Seeing Amna and my dear friend Jon Berman and his ladyfriend and also my gentleman friend’s sister.
Having people at Hoppy House. Good food and joyfulness. I approve.
You guys.
The beautiful, kind, insightful comments on Monday’s post were so fascinating and reassuring to read.
Man. We are such a great group of total oddballs! I love it. I just love it.
So good to know that we are not alone in our oddnesses.
Returning people’s projections.
This is something Hiro taught me a long time ago that I always forget to do. This week I returned people’s projections.
Here. Your projections! It was a good thing.
Blanket fort! Blanket fort! Blanket fort!
Building a blanket fort at the Rally just made everything that much more fabulous.
Blanket fort!
The hot weekend of Roller Derby.
Even though sitting in a non-ventilated metal hangar for five hours in ninety-six+ degree heat is extremely uncomfortable …
And even though disastrous unspeakable things happened and even though Gotham only beat Seattle’s thugs by 95 points and not the much more thorough humiliation that totally should have taken place …
It was awesome.
Also, I know the list of people who want to marry Bonnie Thunders is a very long one, but I’m pushing myself to the front. Unbelievable.
Wow. I saw her skate three years ago and have been dreaming of seeing that again. It was just as incredible as I remembered. So beautiful I can hardly stand it.
And … playing live at the meme beach house: it’s the Fake Band of the Week!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
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?
Taxidermied Mermaid.
They’re fast and loud and put on one hell of a show. Of course, it’s just one guy.
Thanks to the delightful Emannuelle for this one!
And … various things online and otherwise.
I did not really read anything this week.
Oh, except this great bit from Rupa on fabulous proverbs (The jackfruit is in the tree, and you are already oiling your mustache! Love!)
But I did make an avatar that looks exactly like me. Except for my hair which is black (at the moment) and my eyes which are green (always) and that I don’t really wear enough plaid (ever). This was way more fun than it should be.
I also made one for my Gentleman Friend (Rhubarb Scruff, 44 years old, The Vegetarian) that thoroughly captured the essence of his not-vegetarian rocker self but he did not approve. Alas.
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.
A playdate in a blanket fort with Uh oh and Hurry.
Huh. This is one of those posts that requires some background. Here it is:
I was projectizing it up at the Projectizing Rally (Rally!), which is great fun, by the way.
And got hit with a mini moment that turned out to be two different forms of anxiety. I decided to gather the worried-parts-of-me together for a conference to sort things out.
For this we needed a safe room.
Which, of course, turned out to be a GIANT BLANKET FORT.
To make things extra-meta, I was sitting inside of a real blanket fort, constructing a pretend blanket fort in my imagination that had room for all of us:
A giant blanket fort with broomstick poles that fit into these little round flat circles anchored to the floor.
Many blankets. Red ones and patchwork ones. Safety pins. Crawl spaces.
Inside the blanket fort there turned out to be three of us. Me, anxious me and another anxious me.
Me: Oh. Great. You’re both Anxious-me?
Much chattering ensues.
It takes a while to sort everything out but eventually it becomes clear.
Apparently, the first anxious-me is anxious because launching a big, not inexpensive thing is scary and uncomfortable. She has a very round mouth and I’m calling her Uh-oh.
The second anxious-me is anxious because gahhhhhh there is no time and we need to hurry up and get this thing out into the world. I’m calling her Hurry.
Me: Guys? There seems to be a lot of anxiety here in the blanket fort.
Uh oh: Well, yeah. There should be! What about all the people who won’t be able to do this thing? Or even consider doing it?
Hurry: If they can’t even consider it, there’s nothing we can do about that. Come-on-come-on-come-on we need to be able to put this web page up. The first payment you owe the retreat center is $25,000 and it’s due soon and you really need to be able to write that check.
Me: (deep breath) Alright. Let me just put out a gentle reminder that whatever happens, we are bringing this beautiful thing into the world from a place of fullness, not from past experiences of lack and pain.
Uh oh: Oh, right. I forgot.
Hurry: Me too.
Me: No worries. Let’s just get all the cards on the table. You first, Uh oh. What do you need? What would you like us to know?
Uh oh tells us what she’s worried about.
Uh oh: I worry about you so much! But I also worry about your people so much! I want them all to receive help and love and support! I want them all to be able to come to programs. I want everything to be freely available and either super affordable or no cost. I want the world to be sprinkled with love!
Me: That’s a beautiful thing to want, sweetie. I can appreciate that.
Uh oh: You can?
Me: Of course. That’s why we started this business. That’s why we put up six blog posts each week. That’s why we teach what we teach. To give with love. And I recognize your good heart and your loving nature.
Uh oh: But you’re not going to do what I want.
Me: No. For a lot of reasons. Most of which have to do in some way with capacity.
We need the business to thrive and for us to be safe and cared for. We need to to be able to give from a generous heart. We need the time and energy and resources to work on our own stuff so we can keep growing and learning.
And we need to respect the sovereignty of everyone who comes into contact with us, and to know that care-taking and shepherding* does not serve the people we love.That’s not how we want to lead.
* That’s Hiro’s word.
Uh oh is still worried.
Uh oh: So it’s over?
Me: What do you mean, honey?
Uh oh: Not everyone will get to come to the Week of Biggification, right?
Me: Well, yeah. Most people won’t. There’s only sixteen spots and seven of them are already taken.
Uh oh: And your plan to make sure that other people also get help is: write blog posts that explain and model various concepts, bring the book into the world, teach people who will also teach this … and be someone who respects her own capacity.
Me: Basically. And that other thing that we can’t talk about yet.
Uh oh: So it’s over.
Me: I still don’t understand what that means.
Uh oh: I don’t have a job anymore. That means Hurry will win.
Me: Let’s talk about this, honey. First of all, there isn’t going to be any winning. It isn’t about winning. And second of all, you will always have a job. Just a new one.
Uh oh gets a new job that comes with hot cider.
Uh oh: Really? What’s my job? What’s my job? What’s my job?
Me: You are the Executive Vice President of Enoughness. Your job is to practice receiving things and experiencing enoughness so you can tell me what it is like. It also starts with a six week vacation. Where would you like it to be?
Uh oh: Are you trying to get rid of me?
Me: Of course not. I want you to be well-rested and happy.
Uh oh: Uh oh!
Me: It’s not as bad as it sounds.
Uh oh: I’d like to be on the water. On the ship! And to sing sea shanties under the stars.
Me: Okay. That can be arranged.
Uh oh: And I want hot cider in a brown mug. And books to read and blankets to curl up in. And a wooden hairbrush. And candlelight.
Me: That seems fair. It’s nice that you want such specific things. Yay.
Hurry wants some things too. Like sparklepoints.
Hurry: I want to be heard too please!
Me: That is a reasonable thing to want. Let’s find out first if Uh oh needs anything else.
Uh oh: I’m on vacation! Leave me alone!
Me: Phew.
Hurry: Can I tell you what I want now?
Me: I need to check with myself first. You know what? I really need to do some yoga right now. I’ll be back in less than an hour, and more relaxed and receptive and able to converse with you.
Hurry: Thank you for explaining. I really like it when you explain why you are doing (or not doing) a thing. It is helpful for me to know.
Me: Right on.
Fifty five minutes later.
Me: I’m back.
Hurry: I want sparklepoints for being so patient. It’s really hard for me.
Me: Sparklepoints! Absolutely. Sparklepoints aplenty.
Hurry: I want eight hundred sparklepoints.
Me: That sounds very reasonable.
Hurry has reasons for being anxious.
Hurry: I care about you so much! I want you to be okay! I don’t want you to have to pay a $25,000 deposit and not know where that money is coming from. I want you to have a beautiful group of right people, so you can relax and it will be fun for you.
Me: You feel anxious because you need to know I’ll be supported, is that right?
Hurry: Exactly.
Me: I will definitely have many sources of support. And you know what? I’m working on learning how to relax and let it be fun even before we announce it.
Hurry: That sounds really dangerous.
Me: You really do worry about me a lot. I appreciate that. Can you tell me why it’s dangerous, in your opinion?
Hurry: If you’re having fun you might lose track of things and then the deposit due date will come and you will miss it.
Me: Oh. I see. I guess we didn’t define fun very well. I meant: consciously working on the things that need to be worked on so we can pay the deposit, and doing that in a way that allows for goofiness and hilarity and play. And costumes!
Hurry: Oh, okay. So you won’t be having fun instead of doing this. You will be having fun while you’re doing this. And that will help you get it done faster. Faster is good!
Warm-ups.
Me: The thing with hurrying is that when I rush because I’m motivated by pressure and fear, I don’t do my best work. And I can’t offer things from a full heart.
Hurry: You keep saying full.
Me: Because it’s important. When I am full of love, everything is … balanced. In integrity. Sweet. And then things can happen astonishingly fast.
Hurry: So when you’re intentionally going slow — like now, when you’re taking time to talk to me and to Uh oh and to do yoga instead of working on the copy — you’re making sure things will go faster later.
Me: That’s right.
Hurry: So this stuff is like warm-ups. Or training.
Me: Yup.
Hurry: I hadn’t realized that. This is what helps you be speedy.
Me: It’s weird, yeah.
Hurry: So when I push you to go faster, you go slower. But when you choose to be consciously slow and go your own way, speedy things happen.
Me: That is absolutely correct.
Hurry gets a new job too.
Hurry: I feel very reassured. And to be honest, I’m extremely impressed with all the stuff that has Gotten Done during the Rally. I didn’t think you would get nearly this much stuff done. Rallying is awesome.
Me: Indeed it is. I kind of don’t want it to end.
Hurry: More Rallies!
Me: Hell yeah. Rallying is my new favorite thing. So. What would you like to happen now?
Hurry: I want a new job and a vacation, just like Uh oh got to drink cider on the ship.
Me: What do you think your job should be?
Hurry: Inspector!
Me: Inspector? What does that mean? Inspector of what?
Hurry: *hums the Inspector Gadget theme song*
Me: You’re Inspector Gadget?
Hurry: No. I want to inspect gadgets!
Me: I’m … stymied. What are you talking about, sweet pea?
Hurry: The gadgets that gauge how fast things go. I want to keep track of them. I want to be in the gadget room!
In the Gadget Room.
Me: Uh. Okay. Tell me about the gadget room.
Hurry: It’s where the gadgets are!
Me: Is it like the boiler room? Or the belly of a steam ship?
Hurry: Yes! Only it’s full of toys!
Me: I still don’t get it?
Hurry: Remember in nursery school when we used to play house?
Me: Uh huh.
Hurry: It’s like that but with gadgets! And measuring things! And speediness!
Me: That sounds really great. I think you should do that.
Hurry: And I get to wear a conductor’s cap and coveralls and everyone waves at me.
Me: Of course they do.
Hurry: This is the best job ever! I have to go play now. Excuse me.
Me: shakes head
Everything was better by that point and the blanket fort no longer had any anxiety in it at all, so I curled up and took a catnap. Catnapping. It is a good thing.
And … comment zen for today.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. Part of destuckification is letting everyone have room to experience things the way they experience them. Blowing kisses in your direction.
Metaphor Mouse carries a valise and twirls his moustaches!
Background: the metaphor technique is something I’ve adapted from Suzette Haden Elgin‘s teachings. It’s an amazing tool for destuckifying.
It’s also how I discovered that I work on a pirate ship and defeated the hackers. And cured my fear of being beautiful.
More recently we turned my dreaded Tickler file into an Iguana Watcher’s Guide And doing taxes happens in a Secret Money Cave where I visit my treasures and make Tribute to the lands that allow me access to their fair harbours.
Metaphor Mouse to the rescue!
Unpacking the metaphor. Here’s the situation.
It started when I couldn’t decide which was more depressing — the fact that I have a Travel Shopping List, or the fact that I can’t look at it without wanting to throw myself off of a cliff.
Really, it is ludicrous that I have a travel shopping list because Travel, Shopping and List are pretty much my three least favorite words.
Actually, travel doesn’t seem nearly as as stressful as “shopping” or “list” — I do it all the time and really do adore most of it. But when I looked at travel more closely, it became apparent that actually travel in general, as a concept, isn’t that fun for me. Hmmm.
Clearly a job for … Metaphor Mouse!
* As always, this is is just me yelling I AM METAPHOR MOUSE to the song I am Iron Man. Yes. Still.
Unpacking my current relationship with this. (TRAVEL = ?)
What are the qualities, aspects, associations, attributes of the problem word (including what *is* working — if anything)?
[+ stressful]
[+ headache]
[+ worry]
[+ unmanageable]
[+ anticipation]
[+ I have to do everything myself]
[+ transition]
[+ dread]
[+ juggling]
[+ tiring]
[+ freedom]
[+ fun]
[+ hilarity]
[+ adventure]
[+ something I’m good at]
[+ transitions]
[+ switching gear]
[+ movement]
Reminds me of?
Being the director of an off-Broadway show.
Having to do so many things and keep track of so many things just to make sure that everything goes smoothly.
Plus dealing with the damn actors. It’s like herding cats! But in a theater! Entertaining, sure … but not really all that pleasurable.
Learning more about my IDEAL metaphor (Travel = ?)
What sort of qualities, aspects and feelings does the thing I want contain?
[+ freedom]
[+ sovereignty]
[+ relaxing]
[+ ease]
[+ supported]
[+ prepared]
[+ playful]
[+ carefree]
[+ fun]
[+ anticipation]
[+ clear boundaries]
[+ cared for]
[+ simplicity]
[+ spaciousness]
[+ movement]
[+ adventure]
Reminds me of?
Well, it’s showing up for something that has already been prepared, instead of doing the preparing.
Like being an audience member? Like being taken to your special box at the opera house before Groucho Marx causes chaos and pandemonium? Oh my lord. Do I need a lorgnette?
Or maybe it’s getting to be the diva super star … red carpets and the like.
No. That’s no fun. For me, at least. But I wouldn’t object to being an early ’30s film star traveling on a ship.
With my traveling secretary.
Or at least some companion to carry the hat boxes and find my cabin and fetch my drinks and fend off my admirers with a parasol.
Yes, a lovely Atlantic crossing in good weather with plenty of time on my hands. That sounds like the way to travel.
Adventuring! But in style.
What needs to happen next?
More words!
Words for a film star on holiday!
Because this means I don’t have to pack “toiletries” anymore. They can be “essential supplies”. Or my powder box? Someone tell me what this is called!
And my much abused and dreaded Travel Shopping List can be simply: trinkets and baubles for the crossing.
Instead of packing, I can make arrangements. Or select my gowns.
Much brainstorming is needed.
And how do we make it more fun?
Obviously a lorgnette is necessary.
And possibly a cigarette holder.
Maybe I could bring a magic wand and pretend it’s a cigarette holder.
Glamour is clearly called for. In spades.
And there has to be a fun, lighthearted, playful way about it. I could raid the Costume room at the Playground. Or buy something appropriately outrageous to wear.
The main thing is that it’s an adventure. And a ridiculous one. One that allows me to dress with panache. And one that exists to support me.
I don’t know what else is missing, but that’s where I’m going to start.**
** And since I am currently being a Rally-er at the Rally (Rally!), that can be one of the things that I play with this week, while I unabashedly metaphor-mouse everything in sight.
Would you like to play? Hooray! Also: comment zen for today.
You are more than welcome to practice your own Metaphor Mousing on something you’re working on.
Or to mess around with words and wordishness related to a stuckness. Or get brainstorming help from other commenter mice.
Or to be happy for me and my new baby metaphor and to suggest fabulous things to wear.
As always: we let people have their own experience, and we don’t tell them what to do (unless someone specifically asks for help).