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.
Metaphor Mouse goes on Skabbatical!
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.
I really want a sabbatical. As became clear on Official Pirate Queen Holiday last week.*
* Reassurances! Not a sabbatical from blogging! I’ll still be here, no matter what else happens. Okay?
But I have big issues with the word. So it has to be called something else.
Actually, I’ve kind of already decided that I’m going to call it my Skabbatical.
Because that’s hilarious. To me. And because it automatically comes with its own (extremely excellent) soundtrack.
Still, I could use some help rewriting my screwed-up personal associations with the word “sabbatical” — in order to discover something more appealing.
Not to mention something that might actually happen.
To the Skabbatmobile, Metaphor Mouse! And let us all sing … I am Metaphor Mouse!
Unpacking my CURRENT relationship with this.
(SABBATICAL = ?)
What are the qualities, aspects and attributes of the thing that isn’t working (including what *is* working — if anything)?
[+ pipe dream]
[+ unrealistic]
[+ imaginary]
[+ never going to happen]
[+ exists only in the future and in fantasy]
[+ unfulfilling]
[+ distant]
[+ relaxing]
[+ desired]
[+ impossible]
[+ unachievable]
[+ out of reach]
[+ productive]
[+ something you have to earn]
[+ carrot and stick — except that you never reach the carrot]
[+ irony]
[+ pleasurable]
[+ happy fantasy]
[+ fun to plan]
[+ expectations]
[+ hopeful]
[+ possibly also disappointing]
Reminds me of?
Well, in a way it’s like Disneyland. Or an amusement park.
The way you build it up when you’re a kid, only to discover that it’s hot and sticky and full of annoyances.
Like summer vacation or recess.
You yearn for something but it’s the yearning that is more fulfilling than the thing.
So maybe it’s like being in prison and having elaborate fantasies about escape.
Yes, there is definitely some aspect of imprisonment to it (again, for me).
You know what? It’s like imagining winning the lottery and then not buying a ticket.
Learning more about my IDEAL metaphor (X = ?)
What sort of qualities, aspects and feelings does the thing I want contain?
[+ achievable]
[+ do-able]
[+ structure]
[+ planning]
[+ fun]
[+ surprising]
[+ flow]
[+ results]
[+ process]
[+ transformation]
[+ expectations]
[+ hopeful and joyful]
[+ relaxing]
[+ trust]
[+ creativity]
[+ in a state of creative making-stuff-happen]
[+ yoga and Shiva Nata]
[+ play!]
Reminds me of?
It’s like planning a vacation.
But actually planning it. Not sitting around and saying, “Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely to go to Turkey again” and then not doing anything about it.
Back to the lottery thing … I don’t have a lottery fantasy because I a) have a functioning, profitable business, and b) recognize the variety of different ways that financial goodness can come into my life.
In other words: there is an awareness of options. And the fact that I have them.
Which is, in a sense, exactly how I’d like to feel about time. And that’s what we’re talking about here, really. My relationship with time.
Having that sense of PLENTIFULNESS and SPACIOUSNESS in relation to time.
So it’s about Very Interior Design, related to a clearly defined project.
Huh. Is it like … adding another income stream but with time?!
No. It’s more than that. It’s like inventing a holiday. Both in the sense of vacation, and in the sense of holy day and in the sense of a big crazy party.
What do you think, Metaphor Mouse? Are we at metaphor?
Here’s what I know about going on Skabbatical.
It’s for me! Not for anybody else.
Which means it gets to be infused with me-ness.
It has to be fun. And silly.
And have costumes, of course.
It has to have clear starting and ending dates, entry and exit points. Rituals.
It has to be an adventure. It has to have a starting here and ending there. In a way it’s a journey, though that word is also really too loaded for me.
A progression, let’s call it. A progression that’s also a pirate adventure. A sailing.
Are we comfortable with this one?
It needs work.
But you know what? I’m feeling a lot better about the “hey, this could actually maybe happen” part.
So I’m calling it good for now.
What needs to happen next?
I want possible dates. And possible plans.
With a giant permission slip to come up with whatever ideas I come up with, and not to have to trounce them.
Even if most (or all) of them turn out to be ridiculous and untenable.
I need some negotiators to show up and help me have conversations with my monsters.
And I totally need a Skabbatical t-shirt from my designer.
Would you like to play? Comment zen for today.
You are more than welcome to think out loud about stuff you’re working on, related or not related.
Or to celebrate with me and/or come up with Skabbatical lyrics (because it is also a ska band).
As always: we let people have their own experience, and we don’t give advice (unless someone specifically asks for it).
To the Skabbatmobile!
Very Personal Ads #53: to the Sabbatmobile!
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 do it.
Thing 1: To find another word that’s kind of like “sabbatical” but not.
Here’s what I want:
I have a big wish related to planning a sabbatical.
But I can’t call it that, because that particular word is extremely loaded for me.
And also because my personal definition for that particular word includes “sabbatical = something that will never actually happen” as one of its primary components.
So. What do you call a period of three months or more that involves the following?
- extremely restricted internet access
- lots of writing, on a specific project
- plenty of time to nap, do yoga and Shiva Nata, and take walks in the rain.
I do not know. But it needs a name.
Ways this could work:
Obviously this needs some help from Metaphor Mouse. Metaphor Mouse!
Which is cool, because I actually dreamed about him Tuesday night.
Maybe some of my commenter mice will have Useful Suggestions too.
Or maybe I’ll put out an ask at the Twitter bar.
My commitment.
To brainstorm and namestorm. To dance until it shows up.
To be playful. To not agree to any name that isn’t fun.
And I will restrict myself to making Sabbatmobile jokes only when absolutely necessary.
Thing 2: To believe in the thing-that-is-not-a-sabbatical.
Here’s what I want:
I spent most of this past week thinking this through, figuring out which pieces would have to be moved where.
And how long it would take to plan in advance (probably a year).
But I believe it would be crazy good for me. Now I just have to believe that it’s possible.
What I know about what I need:
I need the conditions that put me in flow (quiet + movement + Shiva Nata + walking + sleep + meditation + water + uninterrupted time).
What this can’t be:
It can’t be a situation where I’m going into it because of burnout or poor health. It can’t be a situation where I’m retreating because I don’t like where I am.
It has to be a conscious choice, moving from the thing that is good to the next piece of good.
Ways this could work:
There are all sorts of ways this could work.
I just don’t know what they are yet.
But I’m willing for them to show up.
My commitment.
To pay attention and notice stuff.
To write down whatever objections my monsters (and uh, other loved ones) come up with, and not be impressed.
To come up with creative, unexpected solutions to said supposed objections, internal and external.
To ask interesting questions.
Thing 3: Ease of integration back from Pirate Queen Holiday.
Here’s what I want:
Today I’m coming back from my (mostly) delightful Official Non-Emergency Pirate Queen Holiday Vacation.
And there are stacks of things waiting for me.
My wish:
May this week be full of ease, efficiency, effortlessness and support.
Ways this could work:
Maybe there isn’t as much as I’m imagining there is.
My brilliant First Mate can probably take care of most of it.
I can surprise myself.
My commitment.
To be open to the possibility of things not completely sucking.
To ask for help when I need it.
Slow and steady.
Take it to a cafe when things get angsty.
Get Hiro magic for extra help.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Let’s see. I asked for help with my glamorous secret spy mission. That worked pretty well.
I wore lots of eye make-up, which is very not me. And sunglasses. And heels. And avoided people. It was good.
Ooh. I also wanted to get a lot of non-work-related writing done, and that definitely happened. More than I’d bargained for, actually.
And I wanted a peaceful solution to a challenging, annoying situation. No idea if anything happened there as I haven’t been online.
So I’ll renew that ask, just in case.
The good part is that I haven’t really been thinking about it, which is already kind of a win, you know?
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 #100: Calling all Chickeneers of the High Seas!
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.
We did it.
The first one hundred chickens.
It’s official.
And thank you for the sweet, insightful things you guys came up with on the 100 Chickens announcement regarding the art of chickening.
That was lovely.
The hard stuff
So tired that half my vacation has just been recovery mode.
Schleepy and out of focus.
Trying to catch up to myself.
And then a long troubled sleepless Monday night.
Oof.
The timing. It was the wrongest.
I lost my temper.
And snapped at some poor kid.
She was probably thirteen. And had just discovered that when one rubs the edge of a wine glass with one’s finger, one can unleash a vibrate-ey ear-drum-piercing sound that echoes through the room.
And I let her re-discover it four or five excruciating times before I just couldn’t stand it anymore.
That was the first mistake: better not to wait until you’re considering aiming a plate at someone’s head.
Right. The first rule of being a Highly Sensitive Person: remove yourself from situations that cause the crazy.
Anyway, I am highly sensitive. And that unbearable sound was cutting into my soul. So I made her stop.
It was a little harsh. It was not the most sovereign behavior. I felt bad.
I still feel bad, actually.
Because then she was all slumped over and awkward, the way thirteen year olds are anyway, and I felt even more bad. And then the family left.
Sigh. I’m sorry, kid.
What can I say. Nothing that helps.
I’m a fairy, and fairies don’t do well with high-pitched noises. It’s no excuse.
I’m Israeli, and we don’t really censor ourselves. It’s no excuse.
I’m sorry.
Not long enough.
Stupid addictive vacationing.
I want more nothing!
The good stuff
Actually, I love napping.
So yeah, maybe it was kind of boring to go to bed at 8:30 and spend big chunks of the day in bed, but yay.
And as the week moved along, my strength came back, slowly but surely.
As it always does. Which I know. And forget.
(That sound you hear is me scribbling away in in the Book of Me.)
Horizon.
Deep blue sea.
Nothing to look at but all that blue.
This is what always restores my sanity. Getting my Piscean self across from wherever the water is.
All that water. Remembering. It’s good for me.
Straight into the Book of Me. Again.
All sorts of crazy insights and epiphanies.
As always happens, the act of Intentionally Not Working accidentally launched all sorts of ridiculously great project ideas.
So I’m coming back with an entire notebook of scribbled bits of goodness and newly minted techniques that I’m way too excited about.
The two Mary Russell novels I had on the iPhone.
Were my salvation on a desperate sleepless Monday night.
That and room service. Bless those people.
And bless Laurie King for being such a thoughtful, entertaining writer.
Saw a bald eagle.
And then it landed on a church spire, perched on the top of the cross and looked extremely pleased with itself.
Just exquisite.
No internets.
I thought this one was going to go in the hard section, but it’s actually been really great.
The only time I had access to the internet this week was yesterday afternoon for a couple hours.
All the stuff I thought I’d miss? Nope. Not even slightly. The only thing I missed was checking in with you guys.
Results!
So I did this one day Shiva Nata teacher training in the beginning of June.
And now all the people who thought they weren’t ready and were never going to actually teach this stuff anyway are teaching it.
One of them even got a gig teaching it at a retreat.
Go go gadget neural-connections! And hooray for more Shivanauts in the world doing fabulous shivanautical things.
100 Chickens, people.
I honestly never thought this little weekly ritual thing would ever be anything that anyone would enjoy other than me.
THANK YOU.
(And a good from last week that I forgot.)
We had the brilliant Communicatrix (Colleen!) at my Kitchen Table program last week to do a call with us.
She said all sorts of smart, interesting, useful things that I’ve been playing with in my head.
Plus we got to talk in gangster voices. Feeling lucky and grateful that the thing I do for a living also gives me an excuse to hang out with people I admire and talk about stuff.
Yay.
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 it’s that one band.
Bavarian Variant.
They’re pretty good, actually. Except that it’s actually 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.
The Pirate Queen’s Vacationing Notebook
So I’m on Official Non-Emergency Pirate Queen Holiday this week.
As you might imagine, there has been much journaling.
Thought you might like a peek at some of the bits and pieces in the Pirate Queen Vacation Spiral Notebook.
I hope it mostly makes sense.
The part I’m putting here started out as entries in the Book of Me, and then turned into something else.
The question/challenge.
The thing I’m trying to figure out:
What do the most creative periods in my life have in common?
I’m interested both in determining the defining conditions that these periods share and what happens to me when I’m in them.
These creative periods. What do I know about being in them?
I invent.
And there is an enormous amount of reflection. An enormous amount of working on my stuff.
I come up with new techniques. I sleep well. I bring things into the world.
Have organizational impulses.
Aesthetic opinions become stronger.
I am, for the most part, relaxed and happy.
I am in a state of flow.
Not the best term, maybe. But really, all the words I can think of that people use to describe this thing (“peak performance”) are kind of depressing.
What happens is this: things come together. I am the process and the do-er and the observer. It is sparkly.
What do I know about the setting and the elements involved?
Or: What are my own personal ideal conditions for this kind of creativity?
- away from internet
- not working (or at least not working regular hours)
- lots of walking (especially the kind that doesn’t involve interruptions — in a park, in the woods, around a lake, on a ship, places with minimum traffic)
- plenty of non-walking exercise (yoga, Shiva Nata, dance, movement, stairs)
- lots of time outdoors (especially near trees or water)
- time for writing and thinking
- time for napping
Times in my life that were major periods of creative output:
1) Working in the orchard.
2) The infamous Zebra period.
3) My year in Berlin.
4) The three Pirate Queen vacations.
These are the times in my life when I’ve done my best writing, my best thinking, had my best ideas.
These are also the times in which I have had all or most of my personal conditions of creativity met.*
* Note: I am not in any way implying that these are THE conditions of creativity. Your own Book of You will be different from mine.
What I know (and need to remember):
There may be more elements I’ve forgotten.
And I may not actually need all of these to be in play. But: the more conditions met, the greater the state of creative happiness.
Sometimes I tend to think that these are luxury conditions.
But they aren’t. In two of these scenarios I was unemployed and barely getting by.
However, it is much easier to create when survival stuff isn’t at the fore.
The elements are more important than the form.
Is that true?
What if my dream job is not my dream job?
The orchard job was the best job I’ve ever had. It’s been sixteen years since then and I still love those trees. Even though they’re gone now.
Climbing all day.
Alone. With steady hands and rich smells.
Writing in the evenings. Crawling exhausted into bed.
Perfect.
But I didn’t have a Book of Me then. And so: what if I’ve been wrong?
What if it wasn’t the orchard-ness but the elements and the conditions?
What if movement + tired + smells + outdoors + time + free wandering mind is the combination? Or close to it?
What if I can have all of that without having to find the orchard?
I need to recreate the orchard without the orchard.
And in order to do that I need to take this to more of an extreme. I need to plan a sabbatical.
But it can’t be called that.
And it needs to meet these conditions of creative flow.
And I’m pretty sure it needs to be away from Portland.
At the very least, I need access to outdoor exercise that is not hampered/interrupted by people.
This is going to be interesting, since I have no idea how this is going to work.
And that’s where I’ll stop for now.
Most of the stuff I wrote this week was a) super practical problem-solving biggification stuff, b) theoretical philosophical musings or c) emotional destuckifying and talking to monsters.
This was the one bit that wasn’t any of those things. Not sure why that’s the piece I wanted you guys to have. But that’s where I ended up. And maybe it will end up being useful in some unexpected way.
Comment zen for today.
I’m not interested in advice. Still in processing mode.
But if you have notes for the Book of You or stuff you’re working on or reading this made you think about your own relationship to creativity, that’s awesome. And you’re welcome to share any and all of that.
Because you never know when where you are ends up being useful to someone else reading.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. Blowing kisses from far away.
Item! Who doesn’t want a Tweedle Bug?
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
Stuff worth reading.
Item! Post No. 61-ish in an occasional on-and-off series that comes and goes and is sometimes on a Wednesday.
Item! How to get a truck driver to trust you.
Every time my friend Kelly from Copylicious (yes, the one who bullied me into starting this blog once upon a time) writes a post, I decide it’s my absolute favorite post in the entire world.
But they just keep getting better
This one about how to get a truck driver to trust you is brilliant. For so many reasons.
Read between the delicious lines and learn.
But then this: the 34 stages of editorial enlightenment.
She reads my brain.
She’s @copylicious on Twitter.
Item! These are beautiful
Daily photographs from Walter Hawn.
I really liked:
And the cook’s station.
And you can buy prints, which I think is lovely.
Walter is a stand up guy. And he’s @WalterHawn on Twitter.
Item! All universal truths sound stupid because they’re not supposed to be heard with your ears.
Wise, wise words from Frank.
If you’re a Shivanaut, you’ll hugely appreciate everything he has to say.
And if you’re not a Shivanaut yet, please read this.
All universal truths sound stupid because they’re not supposed to be heard with your ears.
“Then things can shift and change because you’re dealing with what’s real for you, instead of trying to filter your reality through someone else’s words.”
He’s @elimossinary on Twitter.
Item! Speaking of.
Erin, another lovely Shivanaut from Australia, passed this one on to me with the hysterical comment “and Shivanauts say ‘duh’ to this revealing scientific research”.
An article from the Boston globe, suggesting that we think with our bodies.
Uh huh.
“The term most often used to describe this new model of mind is ’embodied cognition,’ and its champions believe it will open up entire new avenues for understanding — and enhancing — the abilities of the human mind.”
The applications are way more interesting than anything they come up with in the article, but it’s a place to start.
She’s @erinibbertson on Twitter.
Item! I am Eloise. I am twenty-three.
Got to this via Colleen, of course.
Eloise, all grown up. And working as an intern.
Genius. Thanks, McSweeney’s. Thanks, Sarah Geller. Love it.
“THINGS I AM AFRAID OF: Girls who don’t wear pants, Graydon Carter, the eight-feet tall models who moonlight at Vogue, the cafeteria, everyone in gladiator heels, my boss, the guys in the mail room who don’t respond to my flirting, the bipolar blog editor, everything.”
Item! A sweet post
This bit from Jacquelyn about how abundance works better than fencing is about Facebook contests.
But it’s also about gardening and about business and imagination.
I really like Jacquelyn.
She’s @jacquelynkitt on Twitter.
Item! More monster conversations.
In which Maryann talks down her procrastination monsters in a wonderfully down-to-earth way.
Monster: It’s all the same?
Me. Yes.
Monster. Hmm.
She’s @maryanndevine on Twitter.
Item! I have a crush on Ugly Gerbil
I love everything about this Etsy shop but ohmygod the copy.
It’s so great.
Not only do I want to buy every single one of his charmingly nutty monsters but I want to read every description. This is Chad the Tweedle Bug.
“Chad the amigurumi Tweedle Bug saw what you did there, and he is shocked. SHOCKED I tells ya!
Now fer the love of jeezlepete, step away from the mayonnaise.
He’s got three rows of noodly pincer arms, but he’s much too shocked to do any serious pinching. His mismatched pop-eyes are an astonished shade of deep blue.
I thank you for looking, but Chad can only stare in mute astonishment.”
Yay!
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- A name for a game. It involves patchwork quilts, crowns, iguanas, chickens, points that matter, points that don’t matter and silliness. The name does not have to be related to any of these. Thanks!
My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say. Even though asking for what I want still feels awkward for me, I’m just going to remind myself that this is a thing I’m practicing.
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. See you tomorrow.