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.