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.
What we mean when we say “try things”
We’re always saying it.
Try things. Try things.
And by try things, I mean: approaching everything you do with flexibility, receptivity, genuine curiosity and the willingness to be surprised.
But then a lot of people wonder, what things?! How do you just try things? How do you even know what things to try?
So I guess this is a long-overdue partial response to that question which comes up whenever I talk about exiting the middle and the fox who designed video games.
We can try things when it comes to habits and patterns, we can try things when it comes to business. Let’s play with work stuff for now.
Let’s say you have a store where you sell smoothies. Or an Etsy shop where you sell handmade scarves. Or any other kind of place, physical or virtual, where business-ey things happen.
You don’t have to do any of these things, but here’s some of what “trying stuff” could be:
Trying stuff in the hard.
- Walking across the street and look at your sign. Visible? Readable? Intriguing?
- Pretending that you have no idea what your shop is. Can you tell what it is (and what it feels like) from the entrance?
- How easy is it for me to give you money if I want to? Is it clear how much things cost and how I can pay you?
- What if I want to buy something from you, but not right this second: How do I stay in touch with you? How can I be part of your world without buying something … yet?
- If your business is on social media, do you talk about stuff that’s not business-related? Good. Keep that up!
- Do you have a knitting circle? Who is your support team? Who are your resources? If, as Barbara says, “isolation is the dream-killer”, who and what help you stay connected to yourself and what you need?
- Making one sentence on your contact page sound slightly more like “Hi, I’m an actual human being! Whooo!”
- Going to a meet-up. Or: be like me and avoid humanity altogether, but tell people that so that they can connect with you.
- Is your store or website a place where you would enjoy hanging out? What would make it more cheery and fun for you?
- Your right people include anyone who would like you and what you do. What kinds of things would you like them to appreciate about what you do? How do they find out about those things?
- How much do people know about you? Enough to get a sense of why they like you? Enough to know whether or not they’d like being in your world?
- Do you have multiple circles? Are you offering stuff that’s low-end and stuff that’s high-end? Experiment!
Thinking about stuff like this is what we mean when we say TRY THINGS.
Trying stuff in the soft.
And — of course — you don’t have to try any of these. They’re possibilities. Loving suggestions. Nothing more.
- Talking to your walls and your monsters. A lot.*
- Are you having fun? Are you getting enough sleep? This stuff is important. It’s investing in your business. The urgency monsters are very emphatic about how this is not a priority. But actually? It’s the thing that turns everything else around.
- Practicing Very Interior Design: finding out everything you can about the ecology of your relationship to money, to business, to “being successful”, whatever that means to you.
- Changing your vocabulary so that you use words that excite you instead of depressing you. Calling upon Metaphor Mouse if necessary.
- Oh, and speaking of words, if you catch yourself saying “shameless self-promotion” (whether out loud or in your head), find out what needs to happen so that you can stop saying it.
- Resting. Replenishing. Receiving.
- Examining your internal boundaries and limits. Who put them there? What’s true?
- Looking for patterns without judging yourself for having patterns. Patterns aren’t bad. They’re just information to use.
* Obviously I’m biased, but I am a fan of my useful monster manual (it comes with a coloring book!) and my badass Emergency Calm Techniques.
Taking care of yourself and learning about your stuff is also what we mean when we say TRY THINGS.
And the really terrible Green Eggs and Ham version!
This was inspired by Mrs. Peppercorn, the worst most enthusiastic poet of all time and my absolute favorite character in any book ever.
You can try things in the soft.
You can use a spray that wafts.You can try things in the hard.
Costumes, wands, a leotard.You can try things every day.
Exit the middle. Back to Wu Wei.You can try things upside down.
Use the video game. Abduct a clown.Try things here. Or try things there.
Do it with Naomi — it’s more fun if you swear!What happens when you wear that crown?
Call metaphor mouse. Write a new collective noun.Try to do it with reverse-engineering.
Try to do it once more with feeling.Or better yet, once more with flailing.
And on that pirate ship you’re sailing.Try it with style. Sing the milk song.
Go ahead and intentionally do it wrong.Try in on Friday. Try it with chicken.
Talk to your monsters and ask for permission.Try asking iguanas and talking to walls.
Ringing the bells and listening to calls.You’ll never run out of good things to try.
There’s always more time, more ways to ask why.If nothing is working the way that it ought
Switch gears and become a cosmonaut.Try stuff try stuff try stuff try stuff
You have what you need, and you are enough.
That’s it. Try stuff.
Ahem.
I do apologize for inflicting rhyming crimes against humanity on you.
But seriously, I don’t know how to challenge people to think creatively other than a) modeling it in my business, b) teaching tools for destuckification, c) talking about why it’s so important that you challenge yourself and d) encouraging a culture of playfulness, curiosity and experimentation.
So that’s what I’ve got.
I hope it’s helpful.
And comment zen for today …
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. This can get pretty uncomfortable/touchy when it comes to business and biggification.
Especially when there’s urgency and stress and pain. And pressure to pay the rent. It sucks.
So I sincerely apologize if anything here stepped on your stuff. I definitely don’t mean to imply that any of this is easy, because it isn’t.
Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and anyone who reads.
Very Personal Ads #56: Rallying it up
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’s dooo eeeet.
Thing 1: Remembering what I already know, again.
Here’s what I want:
I managed to put myself in a mini-tizzy last week trying to figure out what to focus on in my own writing during the fabulous Writer’s Retreat I’m teaching at in Taos.
After going back and forth between six different (and equally compelling) options, I did some Dance of Shiva on it, which delivered the following mini-epiphany:
This week isn’t for the writing. It’s for learning about my relationship to the writing.
So. Instead of working on the book, I’m going to be writing love letters to the book. Having monster conversations. Using my own techniques and documenting them.
For the book, yeah.
But with the intention not of writing it, but of finding out more about my relationship with it.
And what I want is to remember this.
Ways this could work:
I can leave myself little notes.
Make this the intention of my daily shivanautical wackiness.
I can start each day’s writing by consciously choosing one technique that I want to play with. Like, what happens if I bring in Metaphor Mouse to learn more about different aspects of how I interact with writing?)
Or maybe it can just happen.
My commitment.
To do whatever needs doing to release some of that pressure to hurry up and create something meaningful right this second while you have a chance.
To be curious and receptive and inquisitive.
To ask smart questions.
To not take myself or any of this too seriously. Play! We will play!
To walk the labyrinth with Selma.
Thing 2: Maintaining space.
Here’s what I want:
I know about my tendency to overdo. And especially to over-give.
And it’s time to (sweetly) mess around with that pattern and see what moves.
Since I’ll be teaching all week, this is a good test environment to practice in.
Ways this could work:
Reminding myself that it’s time. I’m ready to get better at scooping out time and space for myself. On purpose. As a way of being.
And letting that be not only legitimate, but vital.
Clearly this calls for more Shiva Nata. And some talking to walls.
My commitment.
To pay attention. To notice things.
To not be impressed by the fact that yeah, this is still an issue.
To breathe breathe breathe.
To write about what I learn.
Thing 3: the Rally!
Here’s what I want:
Okay. So I still really want a Rally.
And haven’t had much time for this.
So. I’m going to try to throw together a first run version. Of the Rally.
A little messy, a little casual, a little hilarious .
Invite some people. Rally it up. See what happens.
Like a pre-rally rally. A taster rally. A starter rally. I don’t know.
And then we can expand it into something bigger and more formal.
Ways this could work:
No idea.
But I’m going to write about this and something will happen.
My commitment.
To stay receptive to different creative, fun, lighthearted, playful ways that this could be awesome.
To practice the things I’m already practicing.
To invent some new rally-related rituals.
To have the First Mate make inquiries about possible fabulous schwag.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I asked for perfect simple solutions for the computer-in-a-coma problem. And it was good.
My ancient iBook miraculously hung in there (I think I can I think I can!) and was able to mostly work. The Apple people fixed my laptop. We got through five days of stressfulness and nothing fell apart. Including me. So yay.
Then I wanted support with the enormous variety of things that needed to fall into place, and that also worked better than expected/hoped for.
A lot also didn’t get done, but there was more ease than I’d thought possible. And I had some outrageously great Shivanautical epiphanies. Nice.
And I had an ask about simplicity and elegance that is still … percolating. I think I need to ask this one again when I know a little more about this. Very interesting, in the mean time.
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”.
- Shoulds. As in, “You should be doing it like this” or “That’s not the right way to ask for things — instead it should be like x, y and z”
- 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 #103: Oh the hilarity. I mean, the humanity.
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.
Hahahahahahaha.
This week was such a freaking saga of things falling apart while being challenging and ridiculous.
I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or dance a jig.
Really, at this point all I can do is chicken. TGIFC, as we say. Even though no one has ever said that.
The hard stuff
How much there was of it. Where do I even begin?
Seriously this week was kind of out of control. All inconsequential problems, yes.
And my life is still better than when I was a bartender in south Tel Aviv or a yoga teacher in east Berlin.
But it was a lot to deal with. And I feel completely worn out from all of it.
Oh, right. Not having a computer.
My lovely laptop had a heart attack.
Which is a problem, since I run an internet business.
It got sent to the lovely Apple people. But they didn’t have any spare ones to rent out while they were being all fix-ey.
So I didn’t have access to my computer (or the files I wanted) for five days. Oof. And no, they couldn’t save the hard drive. And no, they weren’t sure if they’d have it back to me before I left for two weeks in New Mexico.
Also, not having a roof.
The roof on Hoppy House was being replaced this week.
My gentleman friend and I both work from home. And we couldn’t do that.
We were out of the house from 7:30 am to 8:00 pm.
And not having internet.
We were trying to work at the Playground, but there’s no internet access there so we had to keep ducking into cafes.
I had client calls all week, but couldn’t access my notes. And a Kitchen Table call where I had to have someone else moderate the chat room for me.
Of course everything took longer than anticipated.
So I was sure I’d be back in my office for the Copywriting Magic class I was scheduled to teach on Wednesday.
I like teaching in my office. I have an excellent headset and a very nice chair and everything is exactly the way I want it.
But there was no roof on my office and it was insanely noisy. So we had to scramble to find a place that was both quiet and had internet access.
Not good.
Being completely worn out.
I was so tired this week. And being on the move did not help.
So tired I caught myself doing a thing I haven’t done since I worked in the dairy and had to work at three in the morning: spacing out completely.
The kind of lapse where you discover yourself fifteen minutes later with one sock in your hand (or leaning on a cow), having no idea where you are.
Oh, I wanted a nap! But the Playground isn’t really set up for napping. Yet.
Between the pirate pillows and the baby blankets in the Refueling Station, it kind of worked. But I so just wanted to be at home.
Not teaching with Selma.
In five years and two months of knowing Selma, I have never taught a Shiva Nata class without her being there.
Not once.
This week it happened. And it felt so wrong. I don’t know how to teach without her there. I mean, I do, obviously. But it was weird. Do not like! Plus now she’s mad at me.
The good stuff
It’s Friday. And this week is over.
And I’m in New Mexico.
I love New Mexico.
The fabulous writer’s retreat at which I am teaching begins tomorrow. And in the meantime, aaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Sigh of relief.
I have my computer. Just in time.
And really, I only ended up losing three blog post drafts and a page of copy.
Not even slightly the end of the world.
Hooray for my Regularly Scheduled Rituals of Backing Stuff Up, because that was crazy great and also made me feel smarter than I actually am.
And really, things worked out.
It turns out that my ancient piece of crap iBook was a) in the closet and b) still kind of worked, despite the screwed up screen and only having six legible keys on the keyboard.
So I was able to do some writing this week without having to steal my gentleman friend’s laptop.
Some of the things that were going horribly wrong this week turned out not only to have been okay, but actually kind of for the best.
And I am (mostly) capable of appreciating a good reminder to not just assume that things-not-the-way-I-wanted necessarily means “wrong”. So that’s good too.
We still had fun.
The Shiva Nata class was awesome.
The Copywriting Magic class totally worked despite all the things going hilariously wrong in the background. The people who come to my things are smart, funny, kind, creative and I adore them all. And Selma even condescended to squeak out loud for everyone.
Plus, I like working at the Playground. Because I like being at the Playground.
And now we have a roof at Hoppy House. Rock on.
Shivanautical epiphanies like crazy.
I had so many post-Shiva-Nata moments of bing this week that I can hardly stand it.
Big, wonderful, outrageous things. Loving it.
Things I enjoyed reading this week.
Maryann’s piece about how am I wrong. Not how I’m wrong. How each of us is. Never mind. Loved it!
Bridget’s wise words and understandings about dragons and process and softness.
Kelly’s post called I’m on a train is my new favorite everything. Read it!
And … playing live at the meme beach house!
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?
Bette-Davis-ize
Yeah. All the boys thinks she’s a spy. But rumor has it … it’s just one guy.
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.
Metaphor Mouse and some post-imperialist destuckifying
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!
The situation.
So. I was talking shop with a [very nice, very successful, male, significantly older than me] colleague, and we ended up in one of those clashes of opinion whose entanglements are primarily semantic.
He was using phrases like “taking over the world” and “world domination” and “full growth potential” and “building your empire”. And “taking it to the next level”.
And while I’m into biggification that happens in a mindful, conscious way, all this talk of dominating hugeness is sooooo not my cup of grown-in-my-backyard tea.
So he was thinking I was hitting some personal walls of my own fears of biggification, which okay, yeah, I have some.
But as we talked it out* it became clear that this was really more about vocabulary.
* NVC FTW! It is still astonishing to me how many disagreements turn out not to be disagreements as soon as I remember to apply Non Violent Communication.
Wait! A really important thing that needs to be said before I continue with the post!
Words are individual. Definitions and associations: even more so.
So if you like having an empire or dominating things, that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. And it doesn’t mean that your way is wrong, or that we can’t be each others’ right people.
It just means that each of us gets to work on our own stuff in our own way. This is me figuring out things for me. And I sincerely hope that me-working-on-my-stuff and processing out loud doesn’t step on your stuff, because that’s not my intention at all. Okay?
Okay. Back to the stuck.
He really couldn’t understand why I didn’t want an empire. And I couldn’t understand why wanting one was so important.
It took us a while to figure out that we actually both want similar things in our businesses. We just have really different ways of talking about them.
As it turned out, it wasn’t my biggification monsters showing up. It’s a much more basic discomfort (and personal associations) with this vocabulary of dominance and dominating and kicking-of-ass.
Which is not a culture I feel at home in.
[NOTE: I don’t at all need things to be huggy and lovey. There can totally be Bruce Lee moves and jedi stuff. I just don’t want to dominate anything. Not my style.]
So it was clear that — whether I want to biggify more or just be able to talk about what I’m already doing — it’s time to find a vocabulary that does describe what I want.
And who better for that job than … Metaphor Mouse!
All together now! To the tune of I am Iron Man. Yes. Still.
“I am Metaphor Mouse … doo da doo doo doo doo doo!”
Unpacking my current relationship with this.
What are the qualities, aspects, associations, attributes of my PERSONAL DEFINITION of the problem word (including what *is* working — if anything)?
(EMPIRE = ?)
[+ crushing opponents]
[+ unkind]
[+ sprawling]
[+ conflict]
[+ governed through strength]
[+ rapacious]
[+ unclear boundaries]
[+ constant growth]
[+ hard to get a handle on]
[+ requires forceful maintenance]
[+ can’t afford to be compassionate]
[+ dominance]
[+ masculine]
[+ imperialism]
[+ mainstream]
[+ influence]
[+ power]
[+ ability to get stuff done]
[+ respected]
[+ thriving]
[+ could be awesome]
[+ Death Star]
[+ storm troopers]
Reminds me of? Makes me think of?
Alright. I know I was going all Star Wars there, but when I asked this question the first thing that popped into my mind was: Napoleon.
So Napoleon it is.
Learning more about my IDEAL metaphor (X = ?)
What sort of qualities, aspects and feelings does the thing I want contain?
[+ power]
[+ sovereignty]
[+ thriving]
[+ clear boundaries]
[+ I get to be Pirate Queen]
[+ nonviolent]
[+ well-defined]
[+ contained]
[+ silly]
[+ playful]
[+ sustainable]
[+ good relations]
[+ independence]
[+ margins]
[+ support]
[+ community]
[+ queer-friendly]
[+ grounded]
[+ strong]
[+ fierce]
[+ creative]
[+ using powers for good]
[+ healthy growth]
[+ respected]
[+ flexible]
[+ freedom]
Reminds me of? Makes me think of?
Mmmmm.
Safe harbour for my pirate ship and my people. Something with both isolation and connection. An island kingdom? Treasure island? An enchanted island? A hidden island?
It’s definitely an island. But not some little island with a lone palm tree sticking out of it.
It’s substantial. And also protected from other people’s imperial enterprises.
It’s more like … Vancouver Island. Size-wise, I mean.
If Vancouver Island was home to the Emerald City. And belonged to me. And had a lagoon that was named after my duck.
It’s like … Sovereignty Island.
What do you think, Metaphor Mouse? Are we at metaphor?
Uh, no. But this is a really bizarre (and therefore excellent) direction.
What needs to happen next?
My designer needs to produce a map. A gorgeous, gorgeous map.
Also, at least one city needs to be called Selmopolis. Okay, maybe that’s going a little too far.
But definitely a lagoon. We need a lagoon.
And how do we make it more fun?
We’ll start with the maps and go from there. But I have some ideas …
Anything else?
You know, it’s so hard to know where word-resistance and/or personal definitions come from.
In the case of me and my friend, we’re both successful entrepreneurs. There isn’t a class gap, but there are gender and generation gaps.
And it can be so difficult to tell how much of our talking past each other is due to that, and how much is more about our personal values and associations related to different words and concepts.
For me, the take-away is: it’s useful to take time to unpack the words I use, so that I can either rewrite my own personal definition of them or find a new word.
Because if my resistance to something buried in that word is keeping me from moving forward, that isn’t good for anyone involved.
Again, words are individual.
You can absolutely have an empire if you want one. I will still like you.
This process isn’t about deciding which words are good. It’s about figuring out what stuff trips us up so that we can rewrite it.
And often as not, a word or an association or a metaphor that works wonders for one person is meaningless for someone else.
Here’s what I don’t care about: what you end up calling something. Here’s what I do care about — a lot: the freedom and play that come with consciously interacting with words and with everything else in your life.
Play with me! And comment zen for today.
Anyway. You are more than welcome to practice your own Metaphor Mouse-ing in the comments — anything you’re working on is fine.
Or to think out loud about stuff that’s troubling you. Mess around with words and wordishness! Or get brainstorming help from other commenter mice.
Maybe you just want to be happy for me and my new baby metaphor. Always appreciated!
As always: we let people have their own experience, and we don’t tell them what to do (unless someone specifically asks for help).
Come play. It will be fun!
Oh boy it’s the vacation monster.
Yep. Talking to my monsters again. Last time it was the Skabbatical monster and the Book monster.
Then on Official Pirate Queen Holiday I had the best idea for the most perfect thing ever: a long, sweet writing vacation. Not just going on Skabbatical but being somewhere fabulous for it.
And I knew this was something I really, really wanted because about ten monsters showed up immediately and were extremely emphatic about what a terrible idea this is.
I made it clear that I’ll only deal with one at a time. This is the one who showed up.
And of course I took notes, scribbling furiously in an effort to keep up. It was pretty trippy, for the record. Shocking, I know. Here we go.
Shame!
Me: Thanks. It was getting really hard to hear with all the yelling. So. Can you tell me what your issues are with this?
Monster: Too many to even list!
Me: Well, what if you just list as many as you can?
Monster: Okay. It’s stupid. It’s frivolous. And there is nothing worse than doing things that are frivolous. It’s not a good use of your time. You don’t have the money. You can’t justify this. No one can ever know about it because it’s so …. peinlich.
Me: Wait, you’re German? I have German monsters?
Monster: You’re avoiding the issue. This thing you want is embarrassing. Shame! Shame on you. That’s the main thing.
Me: Uh…
Monster: But also your business will suffer. And it’s not fair to your gentleman friend. And you’re abandoning Hoppy House. And your whole business will fall apart. And no one can EVER KNOW that you even want this thing because if they find out, they’ll lose all respect for you. Shame!
Traitor!
Me: Ah, you mean because people don’t understand what vacations are like. They don’t know the kind of awesome creative explosions that I get on holiday.
Monster: Are you out of your mind? If someone finds out you were even considering spending that much money on a VACATION?! You’re doomed! No one will ever respect you again. No one will ever be able to relate to you again. Your credibility will be shot to pieces.
Me: Oh. You’re afraid people will lose respect for me.
Monster: They’ll know what a traitor you are! They’ll be disappointed. They’ll abandon you like you abandoned them. They’ll know that you betrayed them.
Me: Ah. This isn’t about vacation, is it? This is about betrayals and shame again. Old stuff.
Monster: Maybe. But my point still stands.
Pain.
Me: Which point is that?
Monster: If your people find out, they will detest you. Why would you even want to risk that? How can you help them if they can’t stand you?
Me: That doesn’t strike me as especially likely. You really think that’s what will happen? And is that the only option of how this could go, in your opinion?
Monster: Remember the noozletter of that one biggified chick? When she was all, ooh look at me I’m in vacation in Paris and this is the view from my fancy hotel, don’t you want to be fabulously successful like me, you should buy my blah blah product. And then you unsubscribed because she was so annoying.
Me: You’re right. I did.
Monster: See? That’s what will happen!
Me: I’m glad you don’t want that to happen. Can you really imagine me doing something like that?
Monster: No, not intentionally. But a lot your people are really, truly struggling. A lot of times they’re working a gazillion hours a week at a job they hate and they’re working on destuckifying, using your techniques and they’re working on their thing. How DARE YOU take three months off? How dare you?!
Not off.
Me: Well, to be fair, it’s not off. It’s not time off. It’s three months devoted to working on one specific project.
Monster: (accusing) That will make you money.
Me: Well, yeah. That’s one of the perks of having a business, once it reaches a certain level of healthiness. And anyway, if it helps people and makes money, isn’t that okay? And I cannot believe you are ganging up on me like this with my money monsters when you said you’d come alone. And when we’re supposed to be discussing my Skabbatical.
Monster: So it’s not vacation.
Me: No. Though, to be honest, that would be nice. We might have to have a talk about that someday too.
Monster: It’s not vacation?
Back to the shame shame shame again …
Me: No. It’s projectizing. Intentional projectizing time.
Monster: But such an extravagant environment for it? Is that really necessary? So much money? What if you get caught? EXPOSED! Shame!
Me: Wait a minute. Are you implying … wait, that can’t be right. It kind of sounds as though you don’t really care whether or not I do this as long as no one finds out about it. Can that be right? What happened to “all things that cost money are bad”?
Monster: As long as no one finds out — AND — as long as you are working — AND — as long as you are convinced that this particular environment will help you be creative and produce (which I have seen happen and so I believe it), it isn’t necessarily bad. You know, in this particular situation.
Me: I don’t believe this. Really?! You don’t care about the all-luxury-is-bad thing anymore? We’re over that one? Ohmygod.
Monster: But NO ONE can find out. Ever. And here’s the thing. Someone could. Someone probably will. And you do not want to risk that. Remember the people who were jealous and horrified when you bought the really nice mattress? Remember?
Me: Yeah.
Monster: Yeah.
Me: Okay. So I’m on board! What’s our plan?
Monster: Our plan? Our plan? Huh?
Our plan!
Me: Our plan! We either need a Super Secret Glamorous Spy plan to not get found out. Or we need to have a plan to bring it out into the open, and frame it in such a way that my people will get it.
Monster: Get it? Get it how?
Me: Listen, my people like me.
Monster: Pfffffft. If you say so.
Me: Whatever. Either way. They like the fact that the stuff I write about is useful to them. And so if this is a trip designed to help me write more things that are useful and better things that are useful … and if I’m still going to be posting regularly to the blog, why wouldn’t they be happy for me? You’re the one they don’t like, anyway.
Monster: You are delusional, my crazy, crazy friend. Sure, they’d be supportive of the idea, maybe. But not if they knew how much it costs to take three months off. That’s luxury. You can’t flaunt luxury. It’s extravagant. It’s disgusting. Shame!
Me: Yeah, I know. We’ve covered this so many times. And yet, it still sounded for a while there like you wanted me to have this beautiful writing project vacation.
Monster: I do. You deserve it.
Me: What? Who are you?!
Monster: I know you.
Me: You know me?
Remembering.
Monster: Remember Berlin?
Me: How could I forget Berlin?
Monster: Huddled in the cold. Writing the very first version of your website? You were amazing. But your situation was so … shaky. The abandoned building, the punks in the yard, the squatters, the junkies, the complete and utter lack of funds, lack of plans, lack of options.
Me: I remember. I was there. And that wasn’t even the worst we’ve been in, not by a long shot.
Monster: So, I don’t know, it seems like poetic justice somehow. Having three months to travel, be somewhere beautiful, eat good food, write your heart out and create something that the world needs. It sounds really good, actually.
Me: Are you sure you’re one of my monsters? Did I accidentally invoke a helper mouse instead? I do not believe what I’m hearing.
Monster: But no one can know — you cannot ever tell them, because they won’t understand. They weren’t there. They never slept in a kindergarten. They don’t know loss like you know loss. They can’t understand the way you have lived. They won’t get it. They won’t understand that this is about redemption.
Who doesn’t know loss.
Me: I’m not sure that I understand that this is about redemption either. But either way, I think that’s kind of presumptuous. How can either of us know what my people have gone through?
Monster: I don’t know.
Me: That’s my point. How can we know what kinds of loss they have experienced? Anyway, who hasn’t experienced loss and pain? So what if they weren’t there? Why should we assume that they won’t or can’t understand?
Monster: Do you really want to risk being shunned?
Me: Whoah. Who is shunning? What are you talking about?
Monster: (closed eyes and deep scary voice) They’ll cut you off. You will have no community. You will die alone.
Me: Wait. Who are you? This sounds like really old stuff. It’s not from now, is it?
Monster: (emerges from trance): Huh? Maybe.
Clearing.
Me: Listen. How much of this belongs to now?
Monster: (shrugs)
Me: Come on. Give me a percentage.
Monster: Five percent. Maybe seven.
Me: Okay. So we’re going to give the rest back to wherever it came from. And how much of what’s left belongs to me?
Monster: Not very much.
Me: So it can go back to where it came from too.
Monster: I guess.
Me: So what’s this shunning thing about?
Monster: I don’t know. That was weird. I’m not sure where that came from but you’re right. It really doesn’t have anything to do with your life. My job is to protect you from disaster but I’m not going to fight disasters that don’t exist. Not anymore.
Me: Thank you.
Monster: Sure.
Me: Where do we stand now?
Monster: In relation to?
Me: Three months of Skabbatical.
Monster: I still really don’t like the idea of people knowing.
Me: What can’t they know?
Monster: How much you spend on it. And you cannot be too loud in your enjoyment. It can’t seem like you’re lording it over them. You have to write about the sucky parts too.
Me: I always do, no?
Monster: Yeah, but you have to be careful. It could seem like you’re bragging.
Me: What, that I’m working on the book?
Monster: You’re moving forward on a dream. That shit pisses people off. Don’t you know that yet? How have you not learned that yet?!
Responsibility and freedom.
Me: Who? Who am I supposedly going to be pissing off?
Monster: You know who.
Me: Say it.
Monster: Nuh-uh. Not going to say it. You know.
Me: I don’t, actually. Is it __________? Is it X? Is it Y?
Monster: Who cares. There are a lot of people in your life who don’t act on stuff they want. Do you really want to be responsible for their pain?
Me: No.
Monster: I told you so.
Me: But that’s because I’m not responsible.
Monster: What? What are you talking about?
Me: It has nothing to do with me. It’s not my responsibility. It’s their responsibility to do stuff with their dreams. If the steps I take inspire them, yay. If not, oh well. It has nothing to do with me.
Gotcha.
Monster: Remember how you wanted to spend this week getting better at being sovereign?
Me: Yeah.
Monster: Behold the master. Shaka!
Me: Dude, have you been devil’s-advocate-ing me? No way! Get out of town!
Monster: You’re the queen, baby. You’re the queen.
Me: I don’t believe this.
Monster: That’s how transformation works. Or have you not noticed?
Me: So we’re done here?
Monster: You wanna hit the bar?
And … comment zen for today.
So yeah. Talking to monsters is challenging, intimidating and can be really painful. I’m so sorry. And I highly recommend having a Negotiator with you at all times.
Anyway. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We all get to talk about what we’re working on. We’re here to support each other.
This is an incredibly personal thing I’m sharing here — not to be told what to do with it, but in the hope that someone else gets a glimpse of something useful. Love, as always, to everyone who reads.