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 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 file treasure-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.

Fluent Self Item!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!) …

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

Ask HaviNote: 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.

The first welcoming.

I went on an outing yesterday to buy some more presents for my tiny sweet thing.

That’s my beautiful Playground that I have been waiting for, dreaming of and dancing into reality these past few months.

Here is what we have so far:

— a baby blanket, of course.
— blocks and straps for Old Turkish Lady yoga.
— incense
— candles!
— a giant bowl of monsters
— two things to hang on the wall
— a singing bowl from Nepal that Hiro gave me.
— a bell from my favorite uncle.
— a mezuzah
— books
— water dispenser
— tea kettle
— bubble-bears!
— pirate costumes
— many silly hats (including my infamous pink angora beret)

And some of what we are waiting on, until the lease is signed:

— the hammock for the Refueling Station.
— the stage (it’s partially built)
— the floor (we’ve picked it out but haven’t picked it up)
— flowers
— a gorgeous lamp from Mary
— chairs
— cushions
— glasses for water and tea (already picked out)

A promise.

I was so moved by the spirit of Hiro’s lovely comment yesterday, which I have to quote here.

She whispered to her tiny, sweet thing:

My commitment: The porch light is lit for you. A warm bed and a fragrant bath waiting for you. Hyacinths bloom in a vase on your night stand. And a feast simmers on the stove to celebrate your arrival!

And then to mine:

My commitment: I’ll help Havi light sparkly Playground candles for you. We’ll stock up on bubble-blowing supplies, toys, costumes and other gleeful stuff. We’ll have a great party to celebrate the Gorgeousness of You.

Yes.

And so.

Here is my promise to the Playground that is coming in:

To welcome you in so many ways. To make sure you know that you are loved and adored.

To remember.

A silly, happy, joyful welcoming.

It’s not quite a party yet.

But it’s growing.

I’m passing around little glasses of champagne. And invisible whistles. If you want to wear one of my awesome hats, you’re more than welcome to.

Not ready to say the first hellos yet. But so, so, so close.

And comment zen for today …

You all get to be fairy godmothers, of course.

So any loving welcoming wishes you want to make for the Playground will be received with pleasure. It’s coming into form. I can feel it.

Also: please no advice or warnings about “not counting chickens”. I count chickens every Friday (we’re up to ninety so far), and it hasn’t done any harm yet. Thank you!

Very Personal Ads #43: the points exist only in my head, yes?

very personal adsPersonal 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 it.

Thing 1: my back.

Here’s what I want:

I strained a muscle in my back yesterday morning (a perfect storm of stress, disorientation, not being mindful), and now there are all these … unexpected limitations.

So what I want is:

— to maneuver these limitations with grace, patience and a sense of humor.
— to accept that yes, I am going to need help with a lot of things.
— quick, healthy healing.

And to not be too annoyed about stuff like my gentleman friend having to put my socks on for me.

Ways this could work:

Ice packs.

Information from my body about what’s going on and what it needs.

Softening. Mindful movement. Rest.

Lots and lots of rest.

Faith that this isn’t necessarily a bad thing even if it really does feel like one right now.

Permission to be in the hard. And appreciation for all that rest and how hard it is to make a priority when I have so much happening.

My commitment.

I will keep talking to and with my body. Asking it what it needs from me.

I will make this whole healing thing a priority and do my best to treat it … if not like a guest, then at least not as the most annoying thing that has ever happened to me.

I will do what I can to meet myself where I am — so if I am feeling annoyed and resentful, that’s allowed too.

To notice what my patterns are, without judging myself for having them. As much as I can, without pushing myself. To give myself support.

Also, yesterday afternoon I spent four and a half hours in bed. Two hundred points for me!

Thing 2: keep on avoiding Internet Hangover.

Here’s what I want:

These past ten days I have been using a couple of the techniques that Hiro is going to teach in her upcoming Internet Hangover class that I totally bullied her into teaching.

And it’s been incredible.

I only had internet hangover twice this week. Instead of oh, a hundred times a day.

And then I knew what was happening and cleared it. Awesome.

So I’m ready for these techniques to become deeply ingrained habits. A regular practice. So I can add some new ones, since I’m really just scraping the surface here.

Ways this could work:

Having a really clear intention that yes, I am changing my relationship with being online.

And also with how I navigate the experience of being on different sites, and monitoring what’s going on while I’m there.

My commitment.

To pay attention.

To be impressed with myself (two hundred points, baby!) for being in the process.

To recognize that these are big changes, and that they’re not only influencing my work but everything I do. So I’m allowed to take some time with it.

Big crazy gratitude for this stuff.

Thing 2.5: Lots of wonderful people in the Internet Hangover class

Here’s what I want:

While I was just writing about my relationship with internet hangover, one of my monsters came up and I thought:

Man, I hope I didn’t talk Hiro into teaching this class just because I need it so badly.

But what I meant was: I hope her class is packed with the kind of smart, fun, sweet-hearted people that come to my classes.

Ways this could work:

Lots of enthusiasm at the Twitter bar.

Everyone who needs this course finding the page, and realizing just how amazing it is.

I’m going to give you the link to the course page again, just in case you haven’t read it yet. 🙂

My commitment.

To be an enthusiastic evangelist for this thing because Hiro’s stuff has done the most remarkable things for my business and everything else in my life. And this, especially, fills an enormous need in the world.

Seven hundred points for the fact that I met Hiro!

Thing 3: Faith. Trust. To get better at letting things happen instead of making them happen.

Here’s what I want:

To release my need to push push push until stuff starts to move.

Ways this could work:

Patience. Practice. Faith.

Repeat as necessary.

My commitment.

To recognize that there are good reasons for me to cling to something that has served me well for so many years.

To acknowledge the power and legitimacy of old patterns, even as I’m trying to introduce new ones.

I can’t do Shiva Nata site on it right now, because of my back. But I can recite the numbers. Or listen to the numbers.

And let the math do its magic in my head. Let the sequences do whatever useful reprogramming needs to happen. Because that works too.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I asked for smoothness with lease-signing and got it. We haven’t signed yet, but the negotiations are going really well and I feel good about it.

The second ask was about sovereignty stuff and, while it’s definitely been challenging, it’s been the focus of my practice all week.

And I wanted to make lots of changes to the Shiva Nata site and it wasn’t happening but then it totally happened. And I wrote up a page about the teacher training. Phew. Three hundred points for me!

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 (automatic deduction of 100 points for the word “manifest“, unless combined with destiny in the context of 19th century American politics.)
  • 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!

The Fluent Self