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.
Very Personal Ads #44: time for a new pattern
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. Yay, ritual!
Let’s do this thing.
Thing 1: Faith. Help maintaining it.
Here’s what I want:
There are an astonishing number of things up in the air right now.
Each one full of possibility, delight, wonder and other things that are good.
But the waiting for them to land and settle into the thing they are becoming is hugely challenging for me.
And this is exacerbated by the sheer number of things in my life at the moment that are uncertain-but-about-to-be-good-news-probably.
Wow.
Just thinking about it makes me appreciate the fact that I have not yet gone stark raving mad from the not-knowing.
Anyway.
Ways this could work:
I have a very clear sense that the best way to navigate this period is to know that everything is going to happen beautifully exactly as it needs to.
As to how that actually works, no idea.
But I’m willing to learn (in ways that are helpful and not painful) how to be the person who can trust the future.
Again, not sure on the how. But I am open to finding out.
My commitment.
To do everything I can to stay connected to myself.
To be extra-aware of what I need (sleep? water? a good cry?) and treat the meeting of each need as something that is worthy of attention. A serious priority.
I’m observing my discomfort with these places of in-between. Especially when it comes to waiting for a response or feedback from other people.
And it’s time to do the work to clear out old stucknesses and hurts from similar situations in the past.
Thing 2: To rewrite my patterns around waiting.
Here’s what I want:
Related to the first ask.
I know what hasn’t worked or has sort-of-worked in the past. As well as what worked great at the time but isn’t relative now because of the “what got you here won’t get you there” principle.
So I know I’m pretty good at stuff like:
— freaking the hell out and falling apart
— gritting my teeth and pulling through somehow
— making things happen through raw determination and ambition
— making things happen through toughening up and going into survival mode
— not being present, checking out of the situation
— trying to be mindful and just observe the hard while I’m in it.
And it’s time for a new set of patterns.
How I want it to look this time:
An entirely new way of being in the state of waiting for something.
And I want it to involve faith (again) that the way things work themselves out will be something that is supportive and awesome.
My commitment.
To actively challenge my patterns.
Not in a violent way, but in an attentive, curious way. Like, what happens if we do this one thing slightly differently?
To notice when I’m doing something familiar, and then start brainstorming other options.
To use Shiva Nata to dance this out and integrate the new patterns into my body and mind.
To call on Metaphor Mouse to work some magic.
To practice Sovereignty.
To be playful with all this change when I can. And to be understanding about it when I can’t.
Thing 3: My fabulous course that does not have a name.
Here’s what I want:
Selma the duck and I are doing this program in June.
It does not have a name.
It is three days. The focus is:
Curing fear of biggification. Accessing your superpowers. Sneaking around the “I want to have more visibility but I don’t want anyone to actually see me” thing. Coming up with a plan.
It is going to be amazing.
It’s already somewhat full. I want it completely full. And full of my people. And for this to happen this week, in an easy, fun, comfortable way.
Ways this could work:
Okay. I have to remember to tell people about it.
I can write a note to my announcement list. And on the Biggification Board at my Kitchen Table program.
Or it could just happen.
In ways that have nothing to do with me.
I could give you guys the link to the program so you could look at it. Yes, that would be smart.
My commitment.
To spend time with this.
To write love letters to the program. To sit with the curriculum and see if there’s anything new that needs to come in.
To excitedly welcome the people who show up.
To dance dance dance. And then dance some more.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I asked for help maneuvering the week with a sore back. And then my back just got better. Which wasn’t what I asked for but yay. Nice.
The second thing was about staying connected to myself and not going into Internet hangover mode. That went mostly well. Except for Wednesday, which was a master class in how not to do things.
I also made a wish for a ton of people to sign up for Hiro’s Internet Hangover class, which I talked her into teaching (for me!). And it’s packed. A thousand points!
And, interestingly, my final ask was also about this whole theme of trust and faith and doing things in a new way. This week I’m taking it in a slightly different direction. We’ll see how 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 (can we avoid 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!
Friday Chicken #91: I don’t even know what woozle means
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.
Seriously, Friday?
Are you sure you’re not just Wednesday playing dress-up? Man. This week was a blur.
Anyway. Hi. Friday. Welcome all Chickeneers of the High Seas. Let’s do this.
The hard stuff
The busy.
Between brunching new programs, finishing the monster coloring book on deadline, seeing clients, working on stuff for The Playground …
Things were a leetle hectic.
I still got my schleep but the mid-day naps had to go.
Editing hurts my brain. And every other part of me.
There were four ebooks in the monster package.
It was kind of exhausting.
Still waiting waiting waiting on The Playground.
The good news is that I’m not even slightly freaking out about it.
And Hope (our real estate Fairy Godmother) says things look really good. And she’s probably right.
But I will definitely let out a huge sigh of relief when we sign the lease and the last of the paperwork is taken care of.
Unexpected expenses.
A couple thousand dollars in some state tax thing that I’d thought was paid up but wasn’t.
Which went great with my not-yet-healed internal narrative of Looming Things Will Sneak Up On You Menacingly And Get You. Lovely.
Hurt my back.
Strained a muscle and was completely incapacitated. Ugh. Stupid getting older.
No one ever tells you how ridiculously inconvenient it is. And hurty. Blah, mindfulness, blah.
The good stuff
Speedy recovery!
Saturday morning I couldn’t even change my clothes because of the back pain.
But by Monday morning I was fine. Just a slight shadow of soreness.
Miraculous. And great.
The Gigantic Scary Pile of Doom and Iguanas. Is gone.
Hell yeah.
Selma and I disappeared it.
And it’s gone. Really, really gone.
And then we used Cairene’s Bite The Candy class to dispatch THREE gigantic iguanas. This feels so good. I can’t even tell you.
Getting the monster manual and coloring book out on deadline.
We worked our asses off.
And — despite all sorts of unexpected set-back-ey things, managed to get everything out the day before we’d promised it. Whew.
Also: people love it. Which is good for my monsters to know because when I came up with the idea, they were all “no, it’s totally stupid”.
Upcoming events filling crazy fast and looking to be outrageously fun.
Just three spots left in the Shiva Nata teacher training (since I hinted at its existence on Wednesday).
And not a whole lot of room left in the extremely awesome program that doesn’t have a name but is about getting over fear of visibility, accessing superpowers and coming up with a plan for mindful biggification.
Fun fun fun. I cannot wait.
Terrific discussion on sovereignty.
A really good conference call with my Group Leaders at the Kitchen Table.
On sovereignty, which is our theme this quarter. theme. So much good learning. So many great insights.
Casey was here! Again!
Super brief and I was kinda spacey because of all the stuff going on. But yay. Casey!
And Janet’s coming!
You probably know Janet too because I link to her all the time.
Janet and I have been friends for years but we never get to see each other anymore and now I get an entire weekend with her. Fabulous.
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?
Maxine and the Whale Wails.
They’re from Wales!
And their first album is called I Think I Just Got Woozled.
Also, they rock. But it’s actually really just one guy.
And other stuff I’m thinking about …
- Terrific post from Lindsay (@gurubody) on fear, boundaries, other useful things. Plus she can write.
-
Last chance to nab the early bird for Hiro’s Internet Hangover class (note also her brilliant description of said malady in the ice cream post).
Seriously. Her methods are so unconventional and so unexpected that I can’t even stand it. Studying this with her has changed everything about how I work and how much I get done.
- If you still haven’t watched the Brewdog video for their new (and insane) beer Sink the Bismarck, it is idiotic and delightful.
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 weekend. And a happy week to come.
The Gigantic Scary Pile Of Iguanas and Doom.
Background:
I signed up for Cairene’s fantastic Bite The Candy class (it’s today but you can do it next month) because I was tired of being intimidated by the Gigantic Scary Pile of Doom that was taking over my office/life.
But then in a fit of something or other I grabbed Selma and we disappeared it.
Which is good. Because now I can use the class to work on the scary bits hiding out inside the pile instead of on the pile itself.

So. A collection of things I noticed while pile-storming.
Some might be true about piles in general, but they’re definitely true for this Gigantic Scary Pile in particular.
Some of these are new to me. And some are things I thought I’d already learned.
All of them are going straight into the Book of You. Well, in this case, the Book of Me.
If something is useful for you, take it. If not, ignore it. Assume the “people vary” rule.
Here’s what I’ve got:

My pile is like my monsters.
Just like with the monsters, I think the pile is out to get me when it’s not.
I assume malicious intent and vindictiveness (gah, just look at the way it eyes me when I’m trying to work).
I build walls of guilt around it. I barricade myself out of my space.
Until it isn’t just collected bits of information and ideas. It’s a Gigantic Scary Pile of Epic Proportions of Doom.
All that monster guilt is trying (though not very effectively) to motivate me. To get me to interact with the pile. And then it’s all confused when it doesn’t work.
At least half of any given pile goes straight to the recycling bin.
This has been true of every single pile I’ve dealt with in the past three years.
A useful experiment (at least theoretically)? To go through Giant Scary Pile with no intention other than shrinking it in half. That could have made the last few weeks a lot more bearable.
Anything that feels familiar is a clue.
The thing that kept coming up with this particular doom pile was my god I keep a lot of crap I don’t need.
And I know I’ve said that before.
My pile is old.
It may only have formed over the last few months, but it is old. In some ways, it has nothing to do with now.
My pile is (at least partially) inherited.
I come from a long line of pilers and compilers.
The first time my gentleman friend visited the house I grew up in, he said ohhhhhhhhhhh. And I said what’s THAT supposed to mean?!
It was the piles. He recognized the piles.
Part of my own stuck is that I don’t want to have this in common with anyone. I resist the pile because there is too much symbolism there. Too much heaviness.
Not enough sovereignty. Yet.
Having a costume really helps.
If you don’t have a pile-jumping costume, you should get one.
I just use the same sparkly rhinestone arm-warmers that I use for filing treasure-mapping.
And the tiara to remind me that I am the pirate queen.
That way you can take the costume off. It gives you a stopping point.
Changing your words helps even more.
When I stopped saying the word “filing”, my life got about seven thousand times better.
God bless Metaphor Mouse for helping me with that.
The main thing that gives a pile its power is the iguanas.
An iguana is any [stupid, crappy, annoying] thing you don’t feel like doing.
Usually I think of the pile itself as the iguana. But that’s not what’s actually going on.
The thing is, there are generally three or four things in the pile that I really, really do not want to deal with.
And so the entire pile gets neglected because I’m walling off the painful stuff with resistance.
So the most important thing for me is to isolate the iguanas. Get the painful bits out of the pile.
Those iguanas need a place to go.
Like their own folder. In this case, I’m taking them to Cairene to help me with.
I can also take them to Drunk Pirate Council or work on them with an iguanability buddy or get a Twitter friend to check in with me.
The point is, it’s not helpful to let the iguanas live in the general pile because then I won’t go near the pile.
No pile can resist the lure of colored index cards!
The way I de-pile piles is this:
As something comes up, I give it a category.
Like: iguanas, stuff to
filetreasure-map, product ideas, things for a wish list.
Each category gets a card.
That way, if the de-piling gets derailed by a pirate ship emergency or an anxiety attack or whatever, I know what the parts and components are.
I also use sticky notes on papers to briefly state what the next step is, because half the nightmare of the pile is trying to read my pages of mad scribblings.
Big chunks = requests for system tweaks.
Anything composing more than 10% of a Gigantic Scary Pile means a system isn’t working.
Example. If a quarter of my pile is client session notes that haven’t been filed treasure-mapped, dammit … , something isn’t working. What is it?
One: taking session notes on loose paper instead of in the designated notebook, which means putting stuff in the binder which is one more step that I never feel like doing.
Two: These end up in the pile because they have blog post ideas in them that I’m afraid of forgetting.
Better: go through the client notebook with a yellow highlighter before Drunk Pirate Council, and make a list of the post ideas. No more piling.
It helps to have a duck.
And helper mice.
Knowing that Selma is beaming at me adoringly while I do something hard and uncomfortable makes the whole thing less annoying.
It’s astonishing how much it helps to have people cheer me on when I’m in the hard. So I go to my Deguiltified Chicken Board so people will say yay.
There are treasures.
I found all sorts of great and surprising things in that pile.
Including that book I’d been looking for.
So if I can think more about treasure-hunting and less about being ambushed by iguanas, this is good.
Piles are a sign of creativity. A monument to what I believe is possible.
This is something I learned from Jen Hofmann.
Huge resistance to this concept. But I think she’s right.
There is some part of me who truly believes I can accomplish all the things represented in that pile. A part of me who is excited about the things in the pile.
A pile doesn’t say anything bad at me.
It says human. It says wishful. It says hopeful.
I still don’t have to like it though.
And I don’t. Most of the time.
The important piece is more about interacting with the part of me that fears and distrusts the pile so I can learn more about meeting myself where I am with kindness. And rhinestone arm-warmers.

So. That’s some of what I got from the Great Depiling of April 2010.
And now I’m off to learn more about my iguanas. And about my relationship with them.
Maybe there will be some unexpected treasures in there too.
And comment zen for today…
We’re all working on our stuff.
And we respect each other’s stuff-working-on process by acknowledging the hard and not giving advice.
That said, if there are things that work for you that you think the hive mind might appreciate, share away.
We remember that people vary and that what works for one of us might not work for everyone. Use what helps. Ignore what doesn’t. Trying things is good!
Item! Here there be monsters.
This isn’t really a post.
But I wanted to share some non-post postiness with you.
And excitement and glee!
Because:
First thing.
The monster coloring book (and manual) is here!
Sent out last night to the lucky people who pre-ordered.
I just talked to the First Mate, and his inbox is full of happinesses from those of you who have been patiently waiting for this. Mwah!
And, apparently, several people thought that when I said coloring book, I was just being silly.
But no, there’s totally a coloring book in there too along with the manual. That noise you hear? Intense scribbling combined with drawers of colored pencils, crayons and magic markers being dumped on the floor.
Coloring is maybe the most unexpected way to distract your monsters while still engaging with them.
And as a favor to people who asked for extra time, the pre-sale price of the monster manual + coloring book is still on. Maybe for a week?

Second thing.
At The Playground! With me and Selma. This is a brand new thing.
How new? This program doesn’t even have a name yet.
But it’s about:
- getting over fear of biggification
- sneaking past the whole “I think I want people to see me but I don’t actually want them to see me” stuck
- accessing your superpowers
- coming up with a really good plan (that you’ll actually use)
And since it will probably fill up before I can a. come up with a name or b. officially announce it, you might want to at least take a look.

Third thing.
A one-day Shiva Nata teacher training.
For a few lucky Shivanauts.
I haven’t taught a teacher training since the one I did in San Francisco a few years ago.
This will be amazing. Seven spots left.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, visit the Shiva Nata site. And if you’re interested in the training, here’s what you want to know.

Fourth thing.
I’m kind of exhausted.
Man. I forgot that editing four ebooks for the Extra-Destuckifying version of the monster manual + coloring book also meant checking every single link.
So that was yesterday.
And then the HATs for all this new stuff.*
* HAT = Havi Announces a Thing. Because of my inability to say “sales page” without throwing up a little.
And all the brunching.**
* Brunching = launching. I can’t say that either. Took this (much better) word from Tara the blonde chicken.
Not that I don’t love the fun-brewing, because I do.
I know that my beloved tiny, sweet thing is on its way. And The Playground is for us. Even those of you who are on the other side of the world.
You’re part of it too. Because everything that happens on this blog is infusing that space with good.
Anyway, it’s been a helluva week. And now I’m tired. So I’m calling a nap day.

Fifth thing.
Some completely non-Playground-related stuff to look at.
I imagine some of you might be a bit tired of hearing about my mad obsession with the new studio and everything that goes into that process.
So a couple of actual items (Item!) …
- A terrific post from Janet about getting it wrong before getting it right. Very useful.
- From McSweeney’s: The only thing that can stop this asteroid is your liberal arts degree. Via my friend (and fellow history major) Nathan.
- You realize, this means WAR! I could not be more in love with Brewdog’s hilarious Sink the Bismarck campaign. The story, the beer, the video, the penguins, Scotland. All of it.
Hoping most of my German readers will forgive me for that one (ich hab euch doch wahnsinnig lieb!)

Sixth thing.
The thank-yous.
My designer and illustrator is so awesome I can hardly stand it. Those monsters are exactly what I wanted. And no, you can’t hire him. I keep him very busy.
Everyone who is helping me with the Fun Brewing.
Especially Hiro.
And everyone in my Kitchen Table program for cheering me on at the Deguiltified Chicken board.
And, of course, you for hanging out here.
All the commenter mice and the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who is even sometimes part of this whole thing.
Cheers from the pirate ship. I’ll be here for a bit and then I’m going to a class (not mine!) and then taking the rest of the day off.
Thank you!

What I want now.
Be happy with me!
Celebration is welcome. We’ve been going full speed ahead for a while now and the cheering would help.
Also, a nap room would be nice, too.
When the Playground is ready, I’m definitely putting in a nap room. In the meantime if you want to whoosh over some symbolic imaginary blankets and cushions, that would be much appreciated.
xox
Ask Havi #31: trouble sleeping
Note: it is almost impossible to get on the Ask Havi list. This person got in by a. being one of my clients or students, b. flattering the hell out of my duck, and c. making life easy on me by being clear about what the question was and what details I could use.
Sleep-related stuckness.
A number of people in my programs have been dealing with sleep-related stuck lately, from insomnia to nightmares to general not wanting to go to bed.
Then a couple of them asked me to weigh in with techniques and ideas and advice.
And to talk about how to approach this whole thing in a Fluent-Self-ified way.
So. First some recognition. And hugs.
Oh sweetie. So much hard.
Not being able to sleep — or not sleeping well — is really not-fun. And it makes everything else that much more impossible. I have way too much first-hand experience with this.
It’s hard on your body, your emotional state, your decision-making capacities. And pretty much everything going on in your life.
So we can’t really talk about this without stopping first to appreciate how much this sucks, and to send comfort and love.
Then the caveats.
People vary.
What’s right for one person isn’t right for someone else. And we need different things at different times.
That’s why you try stuff. And you take notes for the big Book of You, so you can discard whatever isn’t your thing.
None of this is prescriptive. It’s about being genuinely curious about yourself and your relationship with yourself.
And while I’m caveat-ing here, please keep in mind that neither I nor my duck is a doctor, as stated in our boring disclaimer.

And then a bunch of things worth trying.
I’m intentionally not putting these suggestions in any particular order, hoping that you’ll mix and match to find things that suit you.
Left nostril breathing.
The short version: your body goes through various respiratory cycles through the day.
While you’re awake, there’s more breathing through the right nostril. And while you sleep, the emphasis is left nostril.
If you ever have a stuffed nose where it was your right side clogged up, you’ll notice that it’s almost impossible to fall asleep.
Breathing intentionally through the left nostril is a good way to jumpstart the process and get back on a relaxed, quiet, introspective cycle.
Gently close your right nostril with your fingers. Relaxed, comfortable, unforced inhaling and exhaling through the left side.
And at the very least it’s good for getting your mind off of everything else, and reconnecting to your body.
Rituals.
Stuff that always happens before bed.
You start small. And build. Adding new aspects every few days.
You might include something you say (like a poem or a prayer). Something you smell (lavender or chamomile). Something you drink (sleepy tea). Something you wear.
Body stuff.
A tired mind makes you feel like a mess. But a slightly tired body worn out from (moderate) movement and exertion tends to be a happy one.
So that means stuff during the day. Like walking and dancing around the living room and stretching.
And gentler stuff in the evening. You might want to look for a restorative or a yin yoga class to learn some gentle, relaxing poses that are good for winding down before bed.
And incorporate some of that into evening rituals. Legs up on the wall. Reclining poses. Shavasana.
Talk to your sleep.
Write it little notes. And letters to your elephants. Or a Very Personal Ad.
Ask your sleep to take care of you.
Ask your body to process what it needs to process in a way that’s peaceful and healthy for you. Ask your dreams to give you information in non-disturbing ways.
Make a commitment to your body and your mind to find out more about whatever it’s trying to tell you.
Speaking of writing.
Writing before bed is a great way of processing stuff that happened during the day (and inviting your unconscious brain to help you out while you’re asleep).
Evening pages.
Writing a note to yourself can also become part of your evening rituals.
Clearing space (symbolically and literally).
The point of sleep is to restore your mind and your body.
And it’s harder with distractions and reminders of awake-stuff all around.
Look at anything you can see from your bed, in any position you might be sleeping in. And if it’s not relaxing, you want it out.
You definitely don’t want your computer there (if it turns out you can’t sleep and you’re going to go online, you can always wrap yourself in a blanket and visit it). Same goes for piles of work stuff.
Also: clearing space and making dedicated space is something that happens both physically and in time. It helps to make time for rest and coming to bed.
Look for the patterns.
Doing Shiva Nata in the morning (I do not recommend practicing at night) will give you a ton of information about whatever patterns are at play in your life.
You can also make that your intention:
“What can I learn in the next 48 hours about my relationship with sleep and rest?”
Find the emotion. And meet the need.
What’s going on when you can’t sleep?
Each emotion showing up (sad, lonely, frustrated, annoyed, frightened) hides a need (security, comfort, love, reassurance, acknowledgment).
Figuring out what you need so you can get better at giving it to yourself is a huge part of any destuckification practice.
As is acknowledging your pain and your right to have it, and meeting yourself where you are with it.
Things that engage your mind.
I have a lovely hypnotism CD (in German) that I listen to when I can’t sleep.
Many of my students use my emergency calming techniques audio recordings as their sleepy-relaxed pre-bed thing.
Remove pressure, ease pain.
If you head to bed thinking “I’d better get some sleep this time, dammit”, it’s all that more miserable if it doesn’t happen.
So you want your objective to be rest and observation, not sleep. It takes some of the pressure off.
If you’ve rested your eyes and your body, points for you. If you’ve observed stuff about yourself and your stuff, points for you. That’s what gets you closer to resolving this.
Sama vritti pranayama.
This is the breathing technique I use when I can’t sleep.
Sama means even. Vritti are fluctuations or vibration. So it’s just even breathing.
Inhale on a count of four. Exhale on a count of four.
As your breathing slows, you can expand the count as long as you keep it even. Inhale six, exhale six. Or inhale eight, exhale eight. Even.
Pure Land.
This is something I got from Hiro.
Pure Land, in the sense that is relevant to this conversation, is a buddhist concept of a place (or state of being) that is empty, quiet, pure, zen.
And you can ask your body or your soul, whether in writing or in meditation, to take you to a place like this while you sleep.
So that while you sleep, things can be taken care of. Without you being a part of it.
Taking it easy on yourself.
When you can’t sleep, nothing works.
Everything you feel (sad, anxious, annoyed, etc) is exacerbated and heightened.
It’s really easy to blame yourself for all of it. From stubbing your toe because you’re so tired to getting in an argument.
Permission to feel like crap! It’s normal. It’s not going to be like this forever.
Back to the Book of You.
When you look at what you know from the Book of You, you’ll be able to keep adding information about what’s helpful and what isn’t.
For me, watching a movie before bed is not helpful.
For me, doing yoga nidra is helpful.
You notice. You take notes. You keep adding to the collection of Useful Information.

And comment zen for today…
This is by no means a comprehensive list. Not even slightly.
You may have found all sorts of things that are helpful for you. Awesome. Do what works for you. Discard whatever doesn’t feel like a good fit.
We’re all working on our stuff in our own way, at our own pace. And we can let other people have their process too.
Big love to all. Comfort and hugs to all the schleepy mice. And wishes for happy sleeps.