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.
The Day Before.
Background?
Back in January. I was in Monterey, teaching a six day Destuckification Retreat, having a ridiculously good time, and also getting pounded by some hardcore shivanautical epiphanies.
Anyway. I knew we needed a Playground. And so I wrote it a love letter.
And we were off!
And now it’s the day before.
This whole time, whenever things got a little insane, I’d tell Selma and my gentleman friend that it’s just like putting on a play.
It never seems like it will be ready. And then boom last minute dress rehearsal opening night curtain goes up and all of a sudden you have a play.
But honestly? I was still not completely convinced it would happen for us.
We open tomorrow. Yesterday morning we still didn’t have lighting, rugs, or a finished stage.
And still. Somehow, it’s all coming together.
At the last minute, exactly as it should.
We magically found the exact right number of eco-friendly carpet remnants to cover the stage.
Which saved us $160. And that turned out to be perfect because that was exactly how much we needed for the ancient, fabulous, insane floor lamps.
Then my gentleman friend found the most perfect pirate-ey chest at a consignment shop.
The right tablecloth turned up in a grocery store, of all places.
The beverage dispenser thing-ey needed to be raised and there was nothing to put it on. But then I found the exact right sized box.
And remembered that half yard of goofy sailing ship cloth that I bought just in case of something something. And it worked.
We oozed our fair share of blood, sweat and tears, but by late last night we had something that looked more or less like a Playground.
We’ve done the hard part.
All the internal and external stuff to prepare for the arrival of something you really want.
All the things you have to make safe for a tiny, sweet thing with tiny, sweet toes.
I had to make room for the part of me who thinks that if something good happens, something bad must follow.
We invoked some serious protection.
Then there was the first welcoming. The almost-baby shower.
And the pirate monkey barn-raising that turned into a fun-brewing party.
And everyone has been helping.
Our sweet Willie illustrated monsters!
And Malwina made us pirate-ey cushions and is sending them from The Netherlands.
Tara the Blonde Chicken is teaching a class on pricing to raise fun and funds for us.
You guys have sent love and wishes and jumped up and down with happiness for me. You’ve sent monies and cards and sometimes even sock monkeys.
Plus extraordinary help from Hiro (whose clairvoyant abilities also helped us find the space to begin with).
I thought I knew what grateful felt like.
But it’s like discovering a new color. The warmth in my heart is so … huge. Thank you.
Also my gentleman friend.
Thank you, my love. For many things. But especially for:
- going along with my hare-brained schemes, often even enthusiastically.
- painting and scrubbing and lifting and arranging and doing mysterious things with power tools.
- building the most beautiful stage a Shiva Nata teacher could ever want.
- talking me down from some scary places.
- appreciating my kooky ideas and for making me laugh.
- believing in me and my work.
Tomorrow at noon we begin.
There’s still a lot to do. Cue hysterical laughter. Yeeeeees.
The ship’s wheel arrives today. The meditation cushions are late. We have to drive around the city picking stuff up from PDX etsy-ites.
And buy curtains. And put up shelves.
Also, at this point I could probably write volumes about the difference between an internet business and having a live space.
So many things you need that I hadn’t even thought of. Like a vacuum cleaner and a really tall ladder.
And seventeen thousand pairs of scissors because somehow you can never find one when you need it.
So there’s a lot to happen before collapsing in bed tonight.
So it’s not about being done.
Because hahahahahaha. And also because we still need to put in the yoga floor before the next group arrives.
And get more supplies.
So yes. There is still much raising of fun and funds to be done, and so the fun brewing extravaganza continues.
But this feeling of hey this is really and truly working is here. It showed up last night around 9:00 pm, and I still felt it this morning when I got up.
I’ll try and post pictures tomorrow or Sunday. In the meantime, thank you for being a part of this with me.
Whenever things got hard or weird or overwhelming, I thought about the crazy great thing that is this space.
How much I adore you guys.
And what a safe, comfortable, loving place we’ve built here. And that if it’s possible to do something like that online, whatever would happen in person would be incredible.
That’s it.
I have to go do a thing with Hope the realtor of hopefulness. And decorate the Refueling Station.
And pick up juice glasses and buy lemons and clean clean clean clean clean.
Oh, and I’m also teaching a teleclass today for some reason. So yes, that’s hilarious.
In the meantime, I will be here too.
Thank you for being with me while I do this. It means everything to me.
You guys!
Tiny bits of wisdom, revisited.
I have been thinking a lot lately about what I know. Examining the edges of it.
And also about the relationship between knowing that something is true (or true for you), and actually knowing it.
You know, getting it in a visceral, powerful, spine-tingly way so that it’s rooted in your consciousness and you cannot unknow it even if sometimes you forget.
Writing about this kind of wisdom is, of course, hugely problematic because most epiphanies sound embarrassingly obvious when you put them into words.
Still. It seemed like a useful exercise to take stock of some important things I’ve learned (mostly the hard way). And remember when these bits of wisdom found me.*
* The title refers to a something I wrote when my friend died.
What I know from Svevo, my favorite uncle.
There is nothing wrong with taking two naps a day.
Work is greatly overrated.
Your own way? Is actually a perfectly good way.
Going around things and going through things are both options. There is choice.
It is possible to do radically subversive things in a way that’s playful and lighthearted.
And what I know from yoga.
Speak truth. Have compassion.
And: It is not only possible, but desirable for both of these things to take place at the same time.
Anything that seems like a paradox is not. Including this.
Nonviolence trumps everything.
My body is my home.
From Andrey, my teacher.
Experiment.
Wisdom is to be shared.
Always be learning, reading, asking, innovating, re-imagining, turning things upside down.
Everything I thought was a sign of crazy was actually a sign of gifts.
My mind is my home.
From Paul.
People vary.
It is worth asking what the functional reason is for everything you do.
My spine is my home.
From Orna.
Any emotion is legitimate.
Letting yourself be where you are is what lets you move out of it.
If someone throws a shoe at you, it’s about them, not you.
But you still get to say, hey throwing shoes is not okay.
You cannot feel at home in the world if you do not feel at home in yourself.
My actual job is learning to be at home. To be welcoming towards myself so I can do that with other people.
From my very first business mentor.
Rest.
No, really. Rest.
When things aren’t working, get on the dance floor or the yoga floor or any floor and move your body.
Fun is a legitimate thing to value in business.
My business is also a place where I get to feel at home.
From my monsters.
Everything in my life wants me to be safe.
Even the hardest, most painful things have some kind of kernel of love in them.
That doesn’t mean I have to like them though.
Acknowledging pain and giving it legitimacy is the best way to get it to move.
That includes legitimacy for the part of me that doesn’t want to give my pain attention and love.
From Shiva Nata.
Anything can be taken apart into its elements and turned into something else.
Everything you know is wrong.
Chaos is useful.
Giving yourself permission to be terrible at something is as liberating as it is challenging.
There is tremendous power inside of you.
My brain is my home. My neurons are home. I am the eye of the storm.
From Hiro
You can’t get milk from a stone, sweetie.
It’s up to you to take responsibility for the ecology of your life.
That’s what sovereignty is about.
Not giving a damn about what other people think is totally a spiritual practice.
Related: humor is one of the most unappreciated and most valuable spiritual qualities there is. Worth remembering.
My life is my home.
Miscellaneous conclusion-ey stuff.
This is not by any means a complete list.
And really, the important part is not the bits of wisdom themselves, but how to take those crazy flashes of knowing and integrate them into the rest of your life.
Why this is on my mind:
I created the Playground so that Selma and I could teach in person. So it could be a home for this work.
Because in person we can implement the stuff we talk about here. We can use physical practice and delightfully wacky things to ground the knowing so that we can act on it and live it and all that good stuff.
Here’s the dilemma.
First, it’s hard to explain in words that something like Camp Biggification isn’t about giving you information, but about getting your body and brain onboard with the stuff you already know.
So you can go home and trust that you’re going to be approaching everything differently.
Second, it’s driving me crazy that I haven’t found a way to teach the implementation/integration part on the blog. There are just some things that need a designated time and space and tools for a certain kind of magic to happen.
Still pondering that one.
And comment zen for today …
The wisdom here is all stuff that is true for me.
It doesn’t mean that it has to be true for you or that you have to adopt it. Or that I won’t like you just as much if you don’t want it to be yours.
People vary, as Paul says. We need different things at different times.
If you want to share bits of your own acquired wisdom in the comments, that would be lovely. I would like that.
p.s. Two more sleeps until Playground! Come do fun-brewing with me and send love!
Item! Three days! Playground!
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.
So. Way too much is happening right now. Business stuff. Personal stuff. Stuff-stuff.
Fun-brewing! Opening the Playground! In three days!
My pirate crew and I are running around like crazed chickens. So if I seem a little woozly, it’s only because I am.
Item! Post No. 60 in an occasional series that indulges my occasional need for excessive exclamation points.
Item! Finally!
I have been bugging my friend Amna to start a blog ever since we met in November at Barbara Sher’s retreat.
We were already Twitter-friends, so I knew she was bright, fun, delightfully inappropriate and generally my kind of person.
But in person I just fell madly in love with her. And it was driving me up the wall to not be able to read her smartnesses every day.
I even let her borrow my designer. That’s how badly I wanted this blog to happen.
And now it’s here! Yay!
She’s already written about sovereignty (brilliant!) and about the inevitability that isn’t. And you will like her.
“If you’re authority-addled like me, it is SO MUCH easier to do self-care if someone is making me do it. Even if that someone is a construct who lives in the throne room of my brain.
I am using this reflexive impulse to obedience to my advantage. I have no choice but to be in bed by midnight – it is by order of the King!”
She’s @Germinational on Twitter.
Item! Noise!
Garret Keizer’s book about noise, The Unwanted Sound of Everything We Want, was just published.
Super smart guy. Very interesting topic. And I’m in the acknowledgents! Whee! I love being in the acknowedgments. Worth reading.
Item! Hooray for Lucy!
There is an exceptionally high number (five) of fabulous people named Lucy who comment on this blog.
And one I have met in person! Twice! Almost thrice! Because she comes from London to take my programs.
She is extremely intelligent, very curious about the world, and has a seriously low tolerance for bullshit.
So it was an outrageous surprise to discover she’s a secret astrologer, because most astrologers I’ve met tend to be waaay into the wacky. Not in a bad way, necessarily. Just not people like Lucy.
For Lucy, though, it’s all about the patterns and the play and the useful things you can discover about yourself. She made something that had no pull for me seem fascinating and approachable and somehow completely practical.
And she was convinced that no one would want help from a non-woo astrologer and I was like, what are you talking about this is brilliant.
And this week? She outed herself. Yay! YAY!
She’s @lucyviret on Twitter.
Item! God bless Tara the Blonde Chicken!
Seriously. I love that woman.
And not just because she feeds me every time I’m on the east coast.
I love her kooky personality. I love her gorgeous yarn. And her blog. And her dog. And the way she does things.
Like this!
She’s teaching a class on how to price stuff in your business, which is basically the most useful thing in the entire world. It’s for craft-ey people, but really this stuff is useful for everyone.
And, because she’s a total sweetheart, she’s also donating part of the proceeds to my fun brewing project to help the Playground.
Here’s the class. It’s called pricing your handmade awesomeness.
Anything Tara does is going to be smart, interesting and helpful. That’s just how she is.
She’s @blondechicken on Twitter.
Item! Playground updates!
Speaking of the brewing of fun, here’s what we’re up to at the Playground, as of this morning:
- the floor has gone from industrial beige to deep chocolate brown
- we’re still waiting on the wooden yoga floor but are making do for now with rugs
- two walls are red
- juice glasses have been purchased
- half a batch of pirate monkey meditation cushions are on their way.
- signs are up in the building
- pirate wheel is being delivered Thursday!
And today I’m off to get lamps and curtains. Eeeeeeee!
Item! Bitchy Boozy Coaching!
It’s a week from today (Toozday June 8th) and it’s almost full.
You can read all about it on the Bitchy Boozy Coaching page but don’t buy it there.
Go to the Phase 2 Fun-Brewing page instead because if you make a donation of the class tuition, you’ll get not only the class but the other cool things as well.
I think there are six spots left.
Item! Comments!
- Things you’re thinking about.
- Wishes for the Playground!
- A man’s name (first and last) where the first name is also a verb. Anything? I need it for Friday.
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Almost Blustery Windsday. That’s Almost-Windsday, not Almost-Blustery. I’m kind of hoping for sun today. Ahem, Portland. See you tomorrow.
Ten myths of biggification
So yes. While I do talk a lot about biggification, the whole thing started as a joke.
When I launched this site nearly five years ago, I read piles of business advice, only to start really losing patience.
The neverending litany of think big think big just felt so … stressful. And pushy.
Referring to all the people who wanted me to get bigger already as “the Biggifiers” was a way to take the piss out of things a little.
And also partially inspired by that hilariously great line from The Simpsons about how “a noble spirit embiggens the smallest man.”
The problem? Biggification = intimidating.
Both the experience and the word can be so stressful.
And as soon as you focus on what might happen if you start to biggify, all that repressed (or not-very-repressed) fear of success kicks in like crazy. Not fun.
That’s why we’re looking at our monsters‘ myths about why biggification is bad.
So we can focus on growth that’s more organic and less terrifying, which I call mindful biggification:
The art and science of getting your thing into the hands of your right people without feeling icky or weird about it.
“If I start biggifying …”
1. “I have to learn how to … X, Y, Z”
And, of course, X, Y and Z are always things that are completely depressing and paralyzing.
“I’ll have to care about stuff like search engine optimization! I’ll have to promote myself! I’ll have to learn how to eat worms! Ew ew ew!”
You won’t, sweetie. Not unless you want to.
I have chosen not to care about any of those things and it works for me.
The amount of information/skills you need to acquire to biggify your thing is actually minuscule — especially compared to the mountains of research your monsters think you need to be doing.
They’re wrong. Ninety-nine percent of the biggification learning curve is internal. Like learning how to talk to your monsters. And how to not be impressed by the fact that you’re human and you have stuff.
(Caveat: sometimes you will need to find someone who can do tech stuff or explain things to you, but that’s a much tinier part of biggifying than you’re imagining it will be).
2. “I’ll have to become someone I’m not.”
“And then I’ll curl up in a ball and die!”
Actually, most people are busy trying to be other people. Which means that by not doing that, you already have a huge advantage in the integrity department.
Not to mention the Relatable and Fabulous Department, which is a very useful department to excel in.
3. “I need to be more like Havi and less like me.”
“I’ll have to write a million posts a week and say inappropriate things on Twitter and ohmygod I can’t do this.”
It would be the height of silliness (as well as poor business sense) to try and exactly imitate anything that I do, especially if you’re going to turn it into a guilt thing.
Giving yourself permission to do things your way is the best piece of advice I can give.
The other one is “try stuff”. Because that’s partly how you figure out what your way is.
Try stuff!
4. “I’ll have to confront my fears!”
No confrontations necessary.
I mean, we can have mediators to negotiate with them and we can whisper in their general direction and also color with them.
But active confrontation? Not unless you want to.
There are plenty of ways around, over, under and behind fears. Not to mention ways to intentionally interact with them in a smart, conscious, loving, non-confrontational way.
All that face your fear stuff can be really violent sometimes. And it’s absurd that we think our only choices are running away or running into battle.
There are better choices than repressing or confronting. That’s kind of what we talk about here every day.
5. “I’ll have to give up this thing I really like.”
Why?
I see no reason for this.
It is true that sometimes, through the process of working on our stuff and discovering information for the Book of You, things will change.
You may find that you stop wanting to do things you used to do. Or in the way you used to do.
But to just give things up because biggification supposedly means you’re not allowed to have fun anymore, or to take time for yourself, or to see your friends? That’s just wrong.
6. “They’ll realize what a total phony I am.”
Not if you don’t pretend to be something you’re not.
That’s classic monster talk and it’s really scary and uncomfortable when you’re in it. But as arguments go, it doesn’t hold a lot of water.
7. “No one will like me.”
That is a worry, yes. And it feels horrible.
So much pain. I want to give you a hug right now.
And the whispered reminder that the more you speak in your own voice, the easier it is for people who are not your people to self-select out. Right? When visibility creates safety in ridiculous paradoxical ways?
8. “Whatever I do won’t be good enough.”
This is a hard one too. Especially because it feels so true.
So I’m not going to contradict it.
I will just say that for those specific people who need you right now, that’s what they need. Your you-ness. Just as it is.
And then we learn through experience that things as they are have meaning too. And this is hard. And I’m still in it too. And I’m sorry.
9. “Havi will hate me if I don’t live up to my potential.”
I honestly don’t know where people’s monsters get this one, because it’s absurd, but I’ve heard it more than once, so we’ll count it as a myth too.
If you want me to hate you, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that. Seriously. There’s pretty much no way I’m going to stop liking you over something stupid like potential.
You’d have to burn down all my favorite buildings and be mean to my duck and stalk my gentleman friend and throw toilet paper all over the Playground. Exactly.
Also, this is not a parent-teacher conference. I don’t care about your potential. I just care about you.
You do not have to biggify. I will like you just the same either way. We’ve covered this.
10. “I’ll have to keep getting biggified and it will never stop! Bigger and bigger and bigger until it takes over my life. Nooooooo!”
Not going to happen. That’s because of the inverse hourglass principle, which I’ll tell you about soon. In the meantime, trust me — there is a way to sneak around this one.
Summing up the important stuff:
- Fear of biggification = normal.
- As is wanting it to happen and being terrified about things at the same time.
- Pretty much every objection that comes up is your monsters talking.
- They want so much to know you’ll be safe that they forget to tread gently with your tiny, sweet thing.
- Biggification isn’t something that you have to force. It’s something that gets more comfortable through the process of working on your stuff.
- Feeling safe and supported is a legitimate thing to want.
- Challenging your patterns is important. But there are loving ways to do that and there are violent ways to do that.
- It will be okay.
And comment zen for today …
Biggification stuff can be really painful.
So even though I can sometimes be kind of flippant because that’s my way …
I just want to acknowledge how sucky it is when all the monsters talk at once and biggification (mindful or otherwise), just feels so completely out of reach.
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We tread gently with other people’s stuff. Besos.
Very Personal Ads #48: oh yes, fun will be had
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 weekly ritual for clarity and remembering. Yay, ritual!
And … let’s do it.
Thing 1: more wondrous brunching excitement for the Playground!
Here’s what I want:
There has been so much lovely enthusiasm for my gigantic Phase 2 Fun-Brewing project to raise fun (and funds) for the Playground so we can make it beyootiful.
People have come up with terrifically creative things (like offering a thing and donating a chunk of the profits) and there has been a real sparkly, lighthearted, effervescent feeling to the whole thing.
Delight!
And now I want more of that, please.
Ways this could work:
Not sure.
Maybe some people who were inspired by the amazing thing that Willie did will decide to do something similar.
And maybe some of the right people for Bitchy Boozy Coaching will find it or remember its fabulous existence, and decide to be Playground Fairy Godparents and get a pile of goodies.
And maybe other people will write blog posts or facebook notes or whatever about how they donated love and good wishes and are getting the Copywriting Magic class as a thank you.
Basically much joyful spreading-the-word would be hugely appreciated. And that can happen in whatever form it happens.
My commitment.
To be hugely appreciative.
To dance up a storm until the Shivanautical epiphanies rain from the heavens.
To remember that there are so many ways to be taken care of.
To challenge (nicely) my residual stuckified patterns that say that I have to do everything myself. And to appreciate the constant reminders that actually this is not so.
Yes.
Thing 2: a perfect simple solution for the floor thing.
Here’s what I want:
So.
My gentleman friend spent all of last week cleaning, prepping and painting the floors at the Playground and getting them ready so we can put in the wooden yoga floor.
And, despite all the preparation and tests he did to make sure the paint would stick, now it’s not sticking. It’s scratching and peeling off.
And people are coming Friday.
Yeah. So whether this gets fixed by this weekend or not, I need a perfect, simple solution to show up so my gentleman friend doesn’t blow a gasket.
Ways this could work:
I don’t know.
We can try another layer on the edges. Or just carpets for now. Or have a paint scraping party with people.
Or the perfect simple solution can make itself known.
My commitment.
To breathe. To hope. To get creative.
To peek at my own stuff in case there’s something going on there that needs some love, because who knows.
To take lots of pictures of the renovation process.
To love the Playground and everything about it like it was my own. Which it is.
Thing 3: to maintain calm and steadiness and a sense of fun.
Here’s what I want:
It’s already a known thing that my people are coming and not everything is ready.
And the week is going to involve insane amounts of running around.
And I am determined to have fun with it.
Ways this could work:
I don’t know yet.
But I am learning this whole loving, patient, silly thing. And this is the next step.
My commitment.
To cackle hysterically when things go wrong and then go have a tea.
To remember that my people are awesome and that they will not mind things being partially done because they’re just happy to be there with me.
To share the joy and the hard and the funny and the whole damn process with you guys, as always.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I had an ask that was about smoothness and things coming together for the Playground. And I asked for help with the fun brewing.
And beautiful things happened. I was completely overwhelmed (but in a good way!) by the rush of love and support and people-being-happy-for-me.
Plus we found brilliant things to decorate the space and the most perfectly perfect ship wheel.
It is taking shape and I am getting better at receiving help. So hooray for that.
The other part had to do with getting better at trusting, and I had an enormous breakthrough with that this week.
Still working on living it. But I was able to wrap my head around a new piece of it this week after a lot of resistance. And it’s interesting stuff.
My final ask was about my beloved Camp Biggification.
And it wasn’t really the right ask, as it turned out. Someone wise told me that the important thing here is to love this program like a daughter.
So I think this is an ask that is taking a new form. We’ll see where it goes.
Comments. Since I’m already asking …
I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about what I would like to receive in the comments.
Here’s what I want (just leave them in the comments):
- 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 would rather not have:
- Reality theories and words like “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.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird.
Thanks for doing this with me!