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.
Friday Chicken #79: of the what?
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.
It has been an odd, schleepy little week.
Full of harbor seals and unexpected bridges and coming home.
I am back in Portland now, and really, really glad to be here. Yay.
The hard stuff
Transitions.
And movement.
And traveling.
And headache-ey wanting to sleep all the time.
Boundaries.
The massive shoe of horribleness I had thrown at me last week still unresolved.
Lovely.
Too much happening!
Lots of absolutely brilliant epiphanies from all the Shiva Nata at my Destuckification Retreat.
But then really, really wanting to implement some of that good stuff, and all these other things popping up in the way.
Impatience!
Worrying about things that haven’t happened.
Contingency-planning mode is not really my best space.
Luckily, there was crazy good stuff this week so moving on.
The good stuff
Oh, boy! Post-retreat vacation.
My gentleman friend and I spent four days in Monterey after the retreat was over.
A tiny hotel. An enormous bath. Much walking the beach.
It was excellent.
Really good hummus.
In Monterey. Of all places.
Things totally not being as bad as I think they’re going to be, and really not being bad at all.
When I left to teach the Retreat, there was a semi-huge pile of Stuff I Didn’t Want To Deal With on my list.
Actually, it was a pile of Stuff I Hadn’t Looked At Because I Was Afraid It Would Turn Out To Be Stuff I Didn’t Want To Deal With.
So I decided to save it to be the Stuff I Psych Myself Up To Look At When I Get Back.
And then I peeked. And of course it all turned out to be absolutely lovely things that didn’t involve me doing anything other than saying why yes I’d love to.
Whew.
Must. Remember.
I think I’m over my massage issues? Or mostly over. AWESOME.
After I went through that whole thing about how I don’t like massage, I spent the Seven Days of Destuckification week working on that.
And getting massages. Really good ones. Here. With Caroline. Who is a wonder.
And working on it some more.
So. Not hating the massage. And sometimes even kind of loving it. Progresses!
Yay!
The most genius idea in the entire world.
Thanks to those Shivanautical epiphanies.
I can’t tell you about it just yet but trust me. This is the coolest thing I have ever done. Ever.
EXCITEMENT!
Back home.
Hello there, sweet, wonderful bed. I have missed you. A lot.
Drunk Pirate Council!
See, my duck and I never have meetings because I loathe meetings.
And it’s a problem because I run a business. And meetings are kind of necessary. But I postpone them because they suck.
Now we have Drunk Pirate Council instead and it’s the bomb. I’m actually looking forward to the next one. If the winds be favourable!
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 we have:
Iguanadon of the Dead
It’s just one guy.
And … STUISMS of the week.
Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.
- inebriated chicken instead of “abbreviated chicken”
- votive enhances instead of “furtive glances”
- iron hick elements instead of “ironic aerobics”
- fork dancing instead of “dork dancing”
- Spanish fly instead of “banish the guy”
- trunk pyrite bounce ill instead of “drunk pirate council”
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.
Where is the bridge?
So there’s this thing that tends to happen when your brain is all scrambled, which is that the part of you that is excessively sensible forgets to weigh in.
It’s awesome.
Because then you get all the stuff you would normally never say. Much of it surprising. And some of it actually astonishingly true.
You challenge your brain. You cross the midline. You jumble things up.
And then you ask questions to see what you know.
The question I asked last week was a new one. Well, at least I thought it was a new one.
“Where is the bridge?”
Where is the bridge?
Context.
So we were at the Destuckification Retreat and we were doing some Shiva Nata, which is super-smart brain-zapping craziness of the most absurdly wonderful kind.
I can’t remember which day this was. If our practice was silly or deep or completely transcendent.
Or some combination of all of those.
Either way, we were seriously scrambled.
Everyone grabbed a notebook and I started asking questions.
And then we got to the bridge.
Where is the bridge? The first realization.
This is what my challenged-out twisted-around mixed-up brain wrote in response:
“I’m right underneath it.”
Huh?
“I’m right underneath it.
Which is making it hard to see. That’s why I can’t see the bridge. Because my boat is right under it.
I’m passing through this transitional thing so the bridge isn’t where I was looking for it.
And because of the nature of transition, I can’t see that I’m in transition.
But now I know where it is, so I can orient myself to this change. Everything is better when you know where the bridge is.
So. I’m not waiting for it. It’s here.”
Pause.
The silent sounds of synapses connecting.
Snap. Zap. Bing. Zoooooooooooooom.
Got it.
Where is the bridge? The second realization.
Almost as if my pen knew what it needed to say before my brain did.
Everything I wrote was unexpected.
“Oh.
Oh.
The bridge is not only the thing my pirate ship is directly under. It’s also at the front of the boat.
It’s where I should be. On the bridge. Because I am the pirate queen.
But I have been neglecting my navigation because of distractions. Because of pain. Because of survival stuff.
I need to be both more in charge and also more hands-off at the same time.
Which I could do if I were spending more time on the bridge. Of the ship.
Captain! You’re WANTED ON THE BRIDGE!
Like that.
What would the pirate queen do? Be beautiful. Be both visible and invisible. Be on the bridge.”
Where is the bridge? The third realization.
San Francisco.
It was Shiva Nata and some dreams and some stars that took me from Berlin to San Francisco four years ago. And that’s how I met my gentleman friend. Kind of.
Anyway, the first thing that happened right after that? The Golden Gate Bridge told me how sad it was.
Yeah. That was sort of bizarre. Anyway.
So I launched a project to help the bridge. And between my fear monsters and some people in my life who tend to know exactly what to say to encourage those monsters, the project died.
It died the sad little death of all projects that aren’t fortunate enough to have someone to believe in them.
I spent Christmas Day on the bridge. And then that was it.
But what my synaptically-super-connected brain was telling me was that the project was not gone. Not forgotten. It had just morphed into a brand new thing. A new incarnation.
That what I was doing now was helping people find bridges. Make connections. And not just in the brain but everywhere.
Where is the bridge? The fourth realization.
Right before San Francisco, a bunch of real-life things conspired to make going there actually possible.
And one of them was someone from there who came to one of my very first workshops and asked me about the bridge.
He was talking about a linguistic bridge. A metaphorical bridge. A conversational bridge.
But of course he wasn’t. And my brain finally figured it out.
Last week. On paper. As a buzzing whirring mass of tiny Shivanautical epiphanies began whizzing by almost too fast to catch.
The bridge in question was the question.
In other words, asking where the bridge is turns out to be the thing that helps you find the bridge.
Bridges reveal themselves when you ask them where they are.
And why ask?
- it is useful to know what you are currently between.
- it is useful to know what your options are for making connections between here and there.
- just like how (very often, at least) there is no shoe, sometimes there also doesn’t need to be a bridge — but it’s hard to realize that without asking.
- once you know where it is, you can reposition yourself in relation to it.
You can change your orientation.
Back to the bridge.
The bridge is where I find the midpoint.
The bridge is where I say this is what I’m feeling and I give myself permission to feel it.
The bridge is the part of my ship where I belong.
Where I know what is mine and what is not mine. Where I can make the big navigational decisions and also the really tiny ones.
And all of that is a fragment of what my brain told my fingers to tell my pen to spill into my notebook after fifteen minutes of Shiva Nata and one question.
Comment zen for today.
Would you like to play? Yay. Play with me!
You are more than welcome. You don’t even have to be a Shivanaut. You don’t have to do or be anything.
Except ask where is the bridge and then write down what comes to you.
You can also not play. Or play and not share. Or comment about something else entirely. I don’t mind. My duck and I like you just as much either way.
The only big thing is that this is a safe space to play, which means we don’t throw shoes, and we don’t give advice. I’m going back to the bridge to have a tea.
Item! I expect you to be cursing in Cornish at my potluck
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. Selma and I are back.
Back from teaching a week of Destuckification Retreat in California, followed by four delicious days of recovery, which basically consisted of imitating harbor seals.
You’d think I wouldn’t have any Items (Item!) but you’d be wrong. I have all kinds of things that I was Itemizing.
Item! Post No. 52 in a semi-ongoing Wednesday series that kind of surprises me each time it happens.
Item! Best epiphany ever? Possibly. Definitely best blog post title ever.
Maartje has clearly been doing her Shiva Nata because she is zooming with the hot buttered epiphanies.
This completely charming, thoughtful post about the Hierophant, capital-P Patterns and her own relationship with money is a wonderful read.
Also she mentions me, so extra points. 🙂
“I’ve done you wrong, poor archetype!
It’s one of those truisms, that the thing you hate is the thing you need. I dislike truisms, but this time it’s, well, true.
But I know what you look like now, pattern. I know which face of the Hierophant you use to try to get me scrambling for safety.
And I know the solution to a locked door: remember that I’ve got my own keys, and use them.”
She’s @martieu on Twitter.
Item! Observations.
A quiet piece that was just the thing I needed to read at the moment I read it.
“You look down when necessary to avoid a nasty chunk of sidewalk or the errant pile of poo, your injured ankle begging for attention, but you don’t look too long, lest you seem weak. Don’t limp. Don’t appear vulnerable.”
She’s @casey_cole on Twitter.
Item! How to swear in Cornish!
Up a storm!
So. This is kind of … not safe for work.
Unless you work in my old bar.
But it’s cursing. In Cornish. And boy you can say all sorts of dirty things in Cornish.
There’s almost nothing I can quote here, but I did find this one sort of safe one:
“Ny synsav anodho favenn goeg = I don’t care an empty bean”
Apparently.
Got to this via the lovely Kate who is @tangokate on Twitter.
Item! Are you in Seattle?
Because you should be.
Amy from Barefoot Phoenix — who is lovely, by the way — is doing a 90 minute class on how to give an amazing massage without hurting yourself or wearing yourself out in the process.
So you have all the magic touch skills but you can still be really smart and cautious and knowledgeable.
You can go Saturday, February 13th at 5:00 pm or Sunday the 14th at 1:00 pm.
Affordable and awesome. If I were in Seattle I’d be there in a second.
She’s @barefootphoenix on Twitter.
Item! This post is called potluck. And it made me cry.
I love you, BHJ.
“… the meat devouring drug addicts liked to tease the straight edge vegans. The straight edge vegans thought the meat devouring drug addicts were uncivilized and ridiculous.
It was a war. But still. The kind of war made out of love.
All of them were broke, so me and Jenna would have them over for a potluck on Wednesday nights. We just avoided topics like drugs and animals and things went fine.”
Potluck.
You can always count on him for the good stuff.
He’s @wwbhjd on Twitter.
Item! It really is just one guy.
So you know how every Friday we do a thing called a Chicken and there’s always a Fake Band Of The Week who is just one guy?
This band is four guys (five?) who are just one guy.
Via Dick Carlson who is @techherding on Twitter.
Item! Iguanaccountability works even when it shouldn’t.
Also, Virginia Ruth is a rockstar.
That’s what the post is called. And yes, accurate description. Rock-star status confirmed.
“Dancing and singing in the kitchen is one of those things that make me feel super-hot and wish someone was around to see how adorable I am. Possibly the hotness is all in my head, though, so it might be a good thing no one ever is. (Kneading bread while Nina Simone sings the blues, though… that is plainly and undisputably hot. I should make bread soon.”
Nice!
Plus she used my iguanaccountability and it did cool things.
She’s @lirelyn on Twitter — go say hi to her!
Item! Floors and foundations. Good stuff.
Victoria’s teaching a business-growing program called Floors and Foundations.
It’s a ten month thing, and it looks amazing. I’ve met Victoria (twice!) and she’s good people. Plus she has a big fat brain and a very kind heart. So consider this a warm recommendation of pretty much anything she does.
She’s @victoriashmoria on Twitter.
Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
I kind of did a mini-collection of Shivanautical posts.
Casey (@casey_cole) wrote about being off-balance.
Holly (@HollyMarieHill) wrote about her stuck being a bear.
Eric (he’s @ericnormand) wrote about the relationship between internal noise and internal information.
Elizabeth (@elizabethhalt) wrote about motivation and how her stuckified About page accidentally wrote itself.
Oh, and read this one too. From an anonymous new Shivanaut.
And — when Havi says get lost she means get completely lost, I think, because I was floating on a log in the ocean a million miles from shore with how wrong I was doing it and had the best day afterwards.
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- Some kind of ritual for my new weekly Pirate Council (because pirate queens don’t go to “meetings” (bleargh) — that would be awesome.
My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say. Even though asking for what I want still feels awkward for me, I’m just going to remind myself that this is a thing I’m practicing.
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. Unless you’re Claire, in which case you may have a balmy one. See you all tomorrow for non-Itemized regular old posties.
Today I am a harbor seal.
Yesterday I spent the better part of the day observing harbor seals at Monterey Bay.
And then practicing being one.
Or being like one.
Observations.
It’s hard to see something as ridiculously awesome as a harbor seal without going all annoyingly National Geographic and just anthropomorphizing the hell out of it.
I observed stuff about harbor seals. Of course all of this is probably wrong, but oh well.
We were close enough to see them blink.
Close enough to hear them sneeze.
My gentleman friend.
My gentleman friend walks me to the spa.
He says, “Sweetie, go be a harbor seal. Go do nothing and go be comfortable and go give yourself the right to care about nothing but being comfortable.”
Here’s what I see when I watch harbor seals.
They’re hanging out mostly in groups, but without interacting in any visible way.*
* Actually, we kept seeing them in bunches of six, which made for inappropriate Seventh Seal jokes that totally would not stop being funny.
If you are a seal, your job apparently boils down to this:
Find a comfy rock to curl up on, roll around on the rock until you find the most comfortable position. And then stay there. For hours.
Belly up. Belly down. Wacky seal yoga pose. But once you find your rock, you’ve found your rock and that is it.
If someone else gets the rock before you, baby that’s how it is. No one fights over the rocks. You just wait and then the tide goes out and eventually there is a rock for you to nap on too.
You ignore everything, including your fellow seals. You especially ignore birds. So not interesting.
Even the pelicans who are totally eyeing your rock. Or who have claimed a rock that could easily be yours if you made a move.
Relaxed.
Seems like a good life.
Virginia.
I meet a woman named Virginia at the spa.
She goes there to get a facial whenever she can.
She says the thing about chemo is that everything is so unpleasant that the good things become really good.
Like a cookie. A cookie is really good when you’re in chemo because everything else is completely miserable.
Or a facial. A facial makes things more bearable. A really good facial is a reminder that things are good.
I like Virginia. She has a nice way about her and a this is really me smiling at you kind of smile.
Then I notice part of me feeling uncomfortable.
My monsters are making it hard to have a conversation because they think that anything I think or say will be completely insipid.
I stop. I do the harbor seal thing.
The harbor seal says ground. The harbor seal says go back to your center where the balance is. The harbor seal says find your rock. The harbor seal says movement is not really as necessary as you think it is.
The harbor seal says:
Take care of yourself first, so that you can be present for her. You can’t be present with her pain or her discomfort if you’re not aware of your own coming up.
Judgment.
Giving yourself permission to be a harbor seal is not as easy as you might think.
The first thing I think when I see them lolling about on the rocks with their casual expressions and their happy bulging bellies is this:
“Seriously, don’t they have predators? That can’t be safe. Can it?”
That was my fuzzy fear monster (the one who doesn’t like cookies, probably).
Because my fuzzy fear monster says that if I relax I’ll get hurt. Again.
The second thing I think, watching the harbor seals is GET A JOB!
And that’s another fuzzy fear monster who thinks that if I take care of myself and get enough rest and care, other people will think I’m lazy and unmotivated.
I look at my judgment and I look at the water and I look at the seals.
I ask: what happens to this judgment and fear when I am a harbor seal?
And the answer is: I don’t care.
I don’t care.
When I am a harbor seal, I don’t care about fear or judgment.
Instead I care about nap time. And comfortable rocks. And being all content and schleepy in the sun.
My monster might think I’m going to get lost in the comfortable and never find my way back, but that’s what the mediators are for.
I have a new mediator. A harbor seal who blinks at my monster and says, Dude.
Stella.
The woman giving me the tour of the spa wants to know if I am here for some sort of special occasion, and I don’t know what to say in response.
Mind freeze.
My fuzzy fear monster says I suck at the small talks.
I could say something frivolous like why yes it’s the anniversary of last Monday.
Or I could say something about my intention like this is just how I take care of my body.
But that’s not true. Not yet. As my fuzzy fear monster keeps pointing out.
So.
Instead I become a harbor seal.
I say:
“It just seemed like it would feel good.”
And then I don’t say anything else, and my fuzzy fear monsters wait to see if the world will explode.
She says, I’m Stella if you need anything.
What would a harbor seal do?
During my massage I pretend I am a harbor seal and it helps me get through the parts I don’t like.
After my massage I head to the water.
There is an empty jacuzzi on the roof, looking out over the bay.
I am a harbor seal so I find all the most comfortable spots. I am a harbor seal so I rub my back against the wall.
I am a harbor seal so I frolic when I want to frolic and space out when I want to space out.
I am a harbor seal so I just sit there and do nothing while the sailboats come in and the sky goes pink and there’s nothing but water everywhere.
Comment zen for today.
This is a safe space to work on our stuff (and the fact that we have it), and interact with monsters.
So everyone is allowed to have their stuff, and we respect each other’s right to have it. Because this is a self-proclaimed harbor seal sanctuary.
p.s. If you know crappy, horrible things about harbor seals, tell me some other time. Because right now I’m taking a nap on a rock.
Very Personal Ads #31: adjusting the crown
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 it.
Thing 1: Things to start falling into place for my new crazy idea.
Here’s what I want:
I had some seriously huge epiphanies from all the Shiva Nata we were doing at the Destuckification Retreat last week.
Like, huge does not even begin to describe the earth-shatteringness of it all.
And one of my ideas is so completely insane and so completely brilliant that my toes start to wiggle whenever I think about it.
I want progress on this. Movement! Stuff happening! Fireworks! Sparkles!
Here’s how I want this to work:
Okay. So I can’t tell you what this is about yet so I’m just going to ask that you be really, really excited for me.
In the meantime, I need to find the thing I need to find and connect with the person I need to connect with. Soon.
Maybe even as soon as I get back to Portland. And it needs to be affordable, and it needs to happen with smoothness and ease.
Maybe I can write a VPA just for me with more details, or maybe I’ll feel more comfortable spelling it out more fully here over the next couple of weeks.
My commitment.
I will appreciate my brain for zapping me with bits of genius.
And I will appreciate Dance of Shiva for zapping my brain with the ability to make unexpected connections and provide these moments of bing.
And I will do ridiculous Dork Dancing and there will be much flailing around joyfully as this starts to become an actual thing.
Huzzah!
Thing 2: Smooth transitioning.
Here’s what I want:
So another one of the gigantic Shiva Nata epiphanies this week (which I’ll totally tell you about later) was about ways my business needs to change.
And I got all kinds of clarity around how that might work and what my options are.
Now I know what I want, but a bunch of things need to happen in order to get the pirate ship headed in that direction.
Ways this could work:
Hmmm. Not entirely sure.
I could have courage to have possibly scary conversations in supportive non-scary ways.
And the process could be playful and loving and full of appreciation for what has been up until now as well as excitements for what is coming.
My commitment.
To not have to get everything right.
And to be patient with myself when I really, really want to anyway.
Thing 3: trust in a challenging situation (and maintaining sovereignty when the shoes are flying).
Here’s what’s going on:
So I had an excruciatingly difficult conversation the other day. It involved a lot of shoes being thrown my way, and some tough, angry words.
It left me feeling shaken and also kind of bewildered since it came completely out of nowhere.
There was definitely some stuff that worked. I was able to remain calm and centered, and — more importantly — rational and curious in the face of judgment and blame.
I was able to know and trust and remember that this person’s view of the world is not necessarily the only correct one, just as mine is not necessarily the only correct one.
And I was able to allow for misunderstandings. And to see where some people in my life think they have the right to come into my space and have control over my life.
And to remember that hey, guess what, actually they don’t because sovereignty rocks.
So that was a really big deal, because this is new territory. Still completely hard.
Here’s what I want:
To figure out what it feels like to not be shaken.
More of that lovely sovereignty thing. More trust. More safety. More support.
Also, cheers and recognition for having made this much progress and not falling apart completely which is harder than it sounds.
All this forward movement is totally a combination of Hiro wisdom and crazy Shivanautical epiphanies.
Here’s how this could work:
I can schedule a session with my lovely Hiro. I can meditate on it. I can do Shiva Nata on it.
The situation could magically not suck as much as it does right now.
My commitment.
To make my sense of safety top priority. To not allow other people’s shoulds to dictate my life. To be patient and hope that things will resolve themselves.
To recognize that there is pain on all sides. To be open to having some ease around this pain. To stay grounded.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
I wanted help with the what happens with the blog when I’m on retreat thing.
And what happened was that I didn’t. And also I didn’t feel bad about it (most of the time), which was awesome. Though I missed you guys and am super happy to be back.
My gentleman friend put up one unpublished post. And also set up the Items! for me. So it worked. Not necessarily the way I’d thought or hoped but in the way that really worked for me.
So thanks for all of your support with that. Appreciated!
I wanted to record the smartnesses I said while teaching, and my destuckifiers were great about reminding me to turn stuff on and turn stuff off.
And things are working there.
My last ask was about the business running smoothly while I was gone. And I have no idea if it did but I do know that my pirate crew have been taking care of things and being lovely enough not to tell me about anything.
Not really looking forward to finding out what’s waiting for me tomorrow (uh oh, should that be its own VPA?) but appreciating that I didn’t have to do Fluent Self work this week while I was teaching in Monterey.
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.
- 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 or psychoanalyzed.
- Advices.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird.
Thanks for doing this with me!