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.
Shoes. Everywhere.
So. I tend to talk quite a bit here about flying shoes.
Well, about destuckifying when those shoes are hurtling towards you.
And also about the relationship between shoe throwing and sovereignty.
If none of this is making sense …
Shoe-throwing = people saying hurtful things out of nowhere.
Sovereignty = the state of not giving a damn what people think … because you are the king or queen of your mental and emotional space.
Anyway.
Now we have a chance to talk about this some more.
About once a year Selma (my duck) and I teach one class that’s open to the public.
It’s called the Habits Detective call.
And here’s how it’s completely different from all of our other classes:
No charge. No prerequisites.
The subject/theme is always generally related to destuckification and rewriting patterns, but other than that … pretty much up for grabs.
And this time I thought it could be good to go a bit more in-depth into the whole shoe thing.
Stuff we might cover.
Oh, things like what to do when you get hit by what you perceive to be a giant shoe … but the other person involved doesn’t get that you’re in pain.
Or what to do when someone you love is convinced they’ve just had the biggest shoe ever thrown at them, but you’re positive that it wasn’t even slightly meant to be a shoe.
Dealing with criticism (external and/or internal).
Or anything else even slightly related to this that you want to talk about.
Things you should know about this call.
- This is a teleclass which means it happens over the phone.
If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, there’s a page on what a teleclass is and one on general protocol stuff.
- You do have to sign up for it to get the phone number and access code.
This is not to put you on a marketing list because that’s not my thing.
Actually, I don’t even have one. Not having one is on my dammit list. Asking people to sign up helps my pirate crew track the interest level and make
administrativepirate-ey decisions based on that information.**Though if you’re wishing there were a “hey, Havi’s doing a thing” list, there is a small, private one that you can sign up for on the events page. I announce something maybe every few months.
- The call is THIS TOOZDAY (that’s March 2nd, 2010) at 1pm Pacific.
We usually go about an hour.
- If you’ve signed up for the call, you will be sent a link to the recording, assuming the technology gods are on our side.
- If you have a question you’d like to see covered in the call, go ahead and leave it in the comments section of this post. Thanks!
- The purpose of class is not to pitch stuff. I won’t be mentioning products or programs that I do. It’s for us. To hang out and learn together.
- We usually get a few hundred (smart, interesting, sweet, goofball) people signing up for these. Fun!
That’s it!
Uh huh.
Shoes! And what to do about them.
Class is THIS TOOZDAY.
You can sign up for it here and that will give you a. access to the call and b. a link to the recording when it’s up (within a day or two of the call).**
** Note: Anyone who emails my pirate crew asking if there will be a recording or when it’s going to be up will probably have to walk the plank.
And again, if you have questions for the call or stuff you want to make sure we cover, leave it here in the comments so I know where to find it.
Monday we’ll have the weekly Very Personal Ad, and then, who knows, maybe I’ll get to talk to you on Toozday. Yay! Looking forward.
Friday Chicken #82: harvest gold edition
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.
The hard stuff
The Day of Five Meetings.
Brain fog.
Each one was full of good. And all together they kind of did me in.
The too-muchness of the too-much was … well, if you must know, a bit much.
Crying at the Bannister’s office.
The Bannister is what I’m calling my attorney.
Don’t ask. He’s lovely. And I also burst into tears during our meeting, which was not even slightly his fault. And also surprising and not fun.
An uncomfortable disagreement.
My gentleman friend and I don’t have much we disagree on.
David Bowie. The music, not the man, yes? My gentleman friend approves more than I deem reasonable.
The rest of the 70s. Well, the hideous aesthetic home interior stylings of the rest of the 70s. I approve more than he deems reasonable.
And that’s about it.
As long as he’s not playing Starshine Ziggy Diamond Hunky Dory Dogs Something Something and I’m not trying to paint our refrigerator harvest gold, things are good.
And this week we had a huge disagreement. Which we then sorted out and now all is good.
It was still really hard while it was happening though.
Yet again I thank Jonathan Scheff for introducing me to nonviolent communication, and I apologize for not immediately appreciating its usefulness.
I saw High Plains Drifter.
Well, I saw a chunk of it. Not much. But still.
Way more than I would have liked to.
Ugh. Horribleness. Ugh. Terror. Ugh everything.
In general, I will pretty much always watch a western.*
* Yes, I don’t mind violence if it’s stylized ass-kicking or flamboyant shoot-outs. It’s cruelty and abuse I can’t watch.
Anyway. Ruined my night and most of the next day while I was clearing a lot of gunk out of my world.
Is it still February?
Yeesh.
I’m mostly over the February Cranky, but I’d swear this month was at least ten weeks long.
The good stuff
Lots and lots of Fairy Godmothers.
I got help from Pam and Hiro and Cairene with my Playground project and they all did wonders.
Feeling so relieved to be making progress on this.
Met with the Bannister.
I have a new Bannister.
Steps can be taken! Hooray!
Short blog posts!
Remember when I just could not write anything under fifteen hundred words?
And then I couldn’t get under a thousand?
Because my brain would explode it took twice as long to write short posts?
Ha! I’ve been managing to write 700 word posts and not hurt my head in the process. Huzzah.
Costumes.
I like them.
Pirate boots making everything better this week.
An enormous Shivanautical epiphany.
Haven’t written about this one but it is a big one.
Yay Shiva Nata for making my life ridiculously interesting. And for coming up with perfect, simple solutions in perfect timing for pretty much whatever I’m working on.
Hamentaschen!
Spent most of yesterday baking and oh they are lovely.
I can’t eat them of course because of the sugar but I can look at how pretty they are and listen to the admiring oohs from the people who can.
Totally counts.
My work.
Selma and I taught a bunch of teleclasses this week, all of which were … just fun. Pleasurable.
My people are lovely.
And had some delightful sessions with clients.
And it’s good. Sometimes I forget to stop and breathe and say oh yes I like this thing.
So. Yeah. I like this thing.
And … playing live at the meme beach house!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”
This week it’s a British band.
Venn and the Diagrammes.
It’s weird, though, because it’s really just one guy.
Thanks, Walt for giving me this one.
No Stuisms this week. I do believe I may have kicked the habit for a while. We’ll see.
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.
Costumes.
I have been thinking a lot about costumes.
Mostly because of Anna. Anna is wonderful.
You can completely count on her to put together a fabulously crazy outfit. Even when she’s traveling.
If you decide you want to do Ironic Aerobics (which I often do — step touch step touch step touch KICK jazz hands!), Anna will have a better costume than you.
She’s teaching me.
When I was being Metaphor Mouse, and trying to come up with a better way to interact with filing and all the dread and horribleness associated with said files, her contribution was:
What’s your costume?
I didn’t get it.
But then I did.
When you put something on for the duration of a task or a project, you’re setting a boundary. You’re marking time.
You’re designating the space in which something happens. It’s a more conscious interaction with your own capacity.
And you’re symbolically taking on something that symbolizes a specific quality that can serve you in doing what needs to be done.
You’re appropriating an identity (or a part of an identity) that can be put to use for what you’re working on.
What’s your costume?
I tend to think of costumes in terms of identity. In terms of passing. In terms of play.
But I haven’t been thinking about using them specifically to make work better.
Anna has her Working On A Difficult Project Gloves.
Jenny the Bloggess has her confidence wig.
I have my tiara and my pirate hat … and an entire box of playclothes that is going to live at The Playground (see my love-letter for more on that).
Putting things on. Taking things off.
I’ve been having my whole hissy fit growth period (see, I’m totally a grown-up) about being a grown-up.
And now I have to do stupid annoying grown-up shit like meeting with my CPA and my attorney and the other pumpkins and mice in my grown-up Cinderella entourage.
And dammit, I want a costume.
I don’t think I have the confidence to wear an actual Confidence Wig (ooh, another link).
But I am a fan of play.
And of rituals. Of starting and stopping.
And putting something on and taking it off feels like ritual. And also like play.
Like the spirals of deconstruction-and-creation in Shivanauttery.
So I’m looking for an outfit. Or part of an outfit.
Here’s what it needs to do.
Inspire confidence. Make me laugh.
And be different enough from Usual Me to feel like play … but not so different that I can’t walk down the street without causing traffic accidents.
And I’m going to wear this to a meeting with a total grown-up, so it can’t be too outlandish.
It could …
- Make me look “like an adult” while simultaneously poking fun at being an adult by virtue of being a costume.
- Be invisible. Or symbolic. Like a piece of jewelry.
- Be fun.
What do you think?
Also, did I mention that this weekend is Purim?
Purim! I’m going as a pirate. Probably.
And today I will be baking my blog-famous hamentaschen (this post from a year ago might be the funniest thing that I’ve ever written, thanks to Stu, the creep).
You can make them too if you want. Last year a bunch of people did and it was highly entertaining.
Comment zen! And play with me!
You are more than welcome to leave suggestions for costumes for me, and you can also brainstorm ways to bring more costumery into your own life.
Either one works for me. Or something completely different.
What I don’t want:
To be told that this is stupid.
Or that I don’t actually need a costume (um, I know that already) because transformation happens inside of you. Or anything about magic ballet slippers that are actually regular slippers because the oh look the magic is in my heart.
What I would love:
To play with you. To have a drag show. To be as silly or as not silly as this subject demands.
To put on my feather boa and hang out with the commenter mice. And blow extravagant kisses at my Beloved Lurkers.
Item! Is that an Item post in your pocket?
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.
Item! Post No. 55 in a weekly-ish series that makes Wednesdays considerably more bearable but totally screws with Tuesday evening. If you’re me.
Item! Sausages are hot.
Because in the winter it’s too cold to use your fingers to make your iPhone do stuff.
Hence the sausages. Way easier to come by than hobo fingers.
No double entendre intended. Never mind. Stopping now.
Via Darcy who is @darxyanne on Twitter and apparently appreciates how insane I am.
Item! The big one.
No more lil’ piphs for Josiane!
She finally had a big, knock-down, classic Shivanautical epiphany.
And wrote about it beautifully.
“Nothing can be “perfectly me” as long as it only lives within me. Those things I don’t create won’t ever be perfectly me because there is no me-ness in them: they can’t be infused with my essence so long as they remain within me.
As long as they’re only within me, I am not within them; they have to come out of me in order to take with them – and contain within them – some of what I am.”
She’s @kimianak on Twitter.
Item! A lovely Very Personal Ad.
Lisa wrote the most touching, sweet VPA to her husband’s job-to-be.
“Dear Don’s Next Job (and our new place to live):
We’ve been doing a lot of thinking and planning around you, but you are like that child who doesn’t like to have his/her picture taken—you hide your face. Not meanly, not maliciously, but playfully, like a game. Still, it’s time to show yourself. Just a peek, okay?”
She’s @HitThoseKeys on Twitter.
Item! Do you often think about gluing?
Even if you don’t.
Sometimes you just need to know.
It’s called ThisToThat.com.
You know, for when you need to glue stuff.
My absolute favorite part is the button.
Come on, Rami. Get on Twitter. I’ll buy you your first drink at the bar!
Item! Life before Google.
This hit me right in the funny bone.
Item! The shoe that wasn’t.
Smart post from Chris about getting feedback that isn’t useful.
And also about what is useful. Lots of good insights. Plus, her monsters are very energetic.
“My monsters streaked through the house, whooping and hollering. “Neener, neener, neener. You’re not good enough.”
There were brightly colored flags and hula-hoops. ”Told ya so! Told ya so! ” The yellow one lit a firecracker and threw it in the garbage can. Boom! Monster pig-pile!! With me at the bottom. Garbage everywhere.
As my monsters partied in my living room, I sat on the couch and started to cry. I cried for the acknowledgement that I didn’t think I was getting and that I hadn’t given myself.
I cried for the encouragement I knew I needed that I didn’t think I should want.”
She’s @chrisdivalish on Twitter.
Item! This is a really good About page.
Meet Elizabeth.
Actually, you probably already know her because I have Item!ized her gorgeous photos here before.
She’s smart. She’s lovely. She’s my kind of kooky.
And she does Reiki but rolls her eyes at it at the same time. Which I can appreciate. A lot.
“I can recite pi to the 55th decimal place (if I talk really fast — you’ll have to trust me), am on a mission to watch every movie with Colin Firth, own a dictionary of Greek/Roman mythology, and am absolutely rubbish at troubleshooting computer problems, even though I have a degree in Computer Science and have worked with computers for almost ten years.”
She’s @elizabethhalt on Twitter.
Item! I don’t know how to title this one.
So last week I celebrated — okay, I didn’t celebrate, but I noticed that ten years had gone by — my ten year anniversary of the no sugar no caffeine thing.
Which is kind of crazy, but not for the reasons you might think.
The truth is, I don’t even remember what chocolate tastes like.
Homemade yogurt with walnuts and raisins is almost unbearably sweet. I keep insisting it tastes exactly like ice cream and everyone thinks I’m crazy.
Anyway. So I spent most of the week obsessing over this cupcake. I mean, good grief! A cupcake eating a cookie!
Though also these.
I don’t want to eat them, but they make me feel all funny. Fascinated.
Got to this from Nathan who is @NathanBowers on Twitter.
Item! Chicken Techno.
Well, when you post a chicken every week, you’re pretty much asking for it.
Yes, this is a video of chicken techno.
I have nothing more to say about that but of course you’re going to watch it.
From the ever-awesome Sally who is @sally_j 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 wrote about how epiphanies are stoopid. And then shared one of mine.
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- Things one could do with a giant (possibly theoretical) bottle of bubble solution.
My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say. Even though asking for what I want still feels awkward for me, I’m just going to remind myself that this is a thing I’m practicing.
That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. See you tomorrow.
The Fairy Godmothers Union: local chapter
So I went to my friend Carolyn the other day (remember she helped me with my pirate hacker infestation?) to talk out this whole me having huge resistance to being a grown-up thing.
Because I’m having this extremely metaphorical baby, and it’s bringing up my stuff. And I thought I’d let you be a fly on the wall.
Background: the situation.
What I’m trying to do.
Create a Playground.
What I want.
Ease, effortlessness and Helper Mice. So there.
Where I get stuck.
My stuckified fear is basically that I’ll become — the horror — a grownup and immediately lose the fun and the sparkle and the awesome. Old stuff.
Logically, of course, I understand that if I have a space of my own, I will have the solid foundation that will allow me to be even more silly and playful.
In fact, being all grown-up is exactly the thing that puts me in the position to open this fabulously kooky place of play and wonder.
“Reframing” is not going to help — I already get it. So this is us being curious about the stuck and what lives there.
Destroying the fun.
Carolyn: What happens if you become the grown-up?
Me: If I become the grown-up, the grown-up will destroy the fun.
Carolyn: Destroyed! So the fear is … losing the fun?
Me: Yes.
Carolyn: What happens when you lose the fun?
Me: Losing the fun leads directly to not getting out of bed. Losing the fun means that the Cranky wins.
Carolyn: And what could cause you to lose the fun?
Me: Oh, seeing myself as a (non-fun) grown-up with all this responsibility.
Carolyn: With all this responsibility.
Me: Yup. Sigh.
We both have a fit of giggles, and then continue.
Carolyn: Okay. So. What does a grown-up see?
Me: Liability. It’s like you see all the liabilities and none of the assets.
Carolyn: And what’s the thing that’s worst about being a grown-up?
Me: It means I’ll try to hold it all myself. I’ll get overwhelmed.
The Playground.
Carolyn: Tell me about the Playground. What’s it like?
Me: Oh … It’s about the freedom of being childlike. It’s about experiencing that state of wonder, curiosity and fearlessness.
Carolyn: What do you need in order for the Playground to actually happen?
Me: I did a meditation on that yesterday, and what I got was this:
TRUST. SUPPORT. GUIDANCE. VISION. FLOW.
Carolyn: The likelihood of you becoming a grown-up and destroying the fun?
Me: Zero. I couldn’t be the boring adult even if I wanted to. I mean, for one thing, I’m starting a playground. It has play right in the name. Well, that and ground.
Carolyn: So really, if it weren’t for the responsibility thing — the holding it all by yourself and getting overwhelmed — this would work.
Me: Yes.
Carolyn: So. Is there a way we can get RESPONSIBILITY aligned with FUN? Or: what is the opposite of responsibility?
Me: Ooh, this sounds like a job for Metaphor Mouse!
In which we call on Metaphor Mouse.
You can sing with me … I am Metaphor Mouse!
My current personal definition of “responsibility” = ????
The qualities, aspects and attributes of the thing that isn’t working:
[+ heavy]
[+ boring]
[+ tiresome]
[+ turns you into a painfully dull human being]
[+ sucks away all the fun]
And learning more about my IDEAL definition (X = ?)
What sort of qualities, aspects and feelings does my new version of this contain?
[+ trust]
[+ letting myself be cared for]
[+ not alone]
[+ Helper Mice]
[+ Fairy Godmothers]
[+ I don’t have to hold everything]
[+ strong structures to contain flow]
Looking at opposites.
Carolyn: Let’s start with heavy. What is the opposite of heavy?
Me: Well, it would be light. But even an ideal version of Responsibility doesn’t feel light. I’m not there yet. But you know … it does look like light. It has the qualities of light, the kind of light that comes through a window.
Carolyn: So if this is lightness, then the original “heavy” was … dark and weighty?
Me: Not really. It was heavy as a burden but I’m just not feeling the lightness.
Carolyn: Okay. So visual lightness. What is the opposite of boring?
Me: Involving. Something I can be passionate about.
Carolyn: What is the opposite of tiresome?
Me: Energizing.
Carolyn: What about “turns you into a painfully dull human being“?
Me: Being the only grown-up with a Playground says something, I guess.
Carolyn: And the opposite of sucks away all the fun?
Me: Something that allows you to have more fun. You know, better toys. And an actual room to keep them in.
Do we have metaphor?
Me: Well, the first version is laborious. It’s like cleaning when you don’t feel like cleaning.
It’s scrubbing away at things you don’t even care about just because people think you should.
And the second version … with the Fairy godmothers and the mice … oh, of course. It’s Cinderella again.*
* I say “again” but I haven’t posted about rewriting my metaphor for “filing” yet — which also totally went all Disney on me. Just assume that this makes sense.
It’s playful. I get to clean up with helper mice and it all goes smoothly. It’s being in the zone. And there are definitely sparkles. But it’s not annoying-sparkly. It’s fun.
Carolyn: Who are your fairy godmothers for this playground?
Me: Oh, Hiro and Pam and all the Group Leaders at the Kitchen Table.
Carolyn: Ooh, and I have great repair people. So I will be the Master Fairy Godmother of that.
Me: This is the best day ever!
And back to the holding.
Carolyn: Let’s talk about the holding. What’s going on with that?
Me: There is something about “responsible” that implies that I have to hold everything…
Carolyn: And what would it be like if I didn’t have to hold everything?
Me: Well my mind is pretty clear that it would actually be better that way. But there is still a very insistent voice that says that everything would fall apart.
Carolyn: What is your job? I mean, really. What is your job?
Me: ???
Carolyn: Isn’t your job to be smart and silly and sparkly and glittery and refreshing and energizing and different and you?
Me: Oh, right. That job. Yes. That is my job.
Carolyn: And?
Me: And I still think I have to hold it all together. Even though holding it is stopping me. What I really need is the structure to hold it.
Carolyn: Tell me about the structure.
Me: I need the structure to hold it for me, and I need the trust to believe that it will support me.
Carolyn: You need a structure that holds all of it, so you can have the sparkle.
Me: Yes.
“What is the structure?”
Carolyn: What is the structure? Is it the pumpkin coach? The ball? The castle? The town?
Me: Oh.
The structure is dancing.
And I am the dance.
And as long as I dance, I won’t become a grown-up. At least, not that kind of grown-up. Because the Dance is magical.
So the Dance is the support and the structure. And the structure holds itself.
And when I do the dance it will bring in stuff like guidance, trust, vision and flow.
It will hold everything up. And allow the childlike wonder to be there.
And it’s extra-awesome because it’s the dance of form. Of bringing form in from chaos. Of bringing ideas into form. Mythical structure.
What is trust?
Carolyn: So what is trust?
Me: Funny. I just wrote about that — one of the permutations of trust is to expect. As in, I trust that you will get back to me on this tomorrow.
Carolyn: So to trust is to expect. Not to hold.
Me: So if I trust the structure of the dance, then I don’t need to hold anything?
Comment zen for today.
As always this is a “no advice” zone. But you’re more than welcome to share stuff you’re working on or thoughts that have come up. Or anything you need, fairy godmothers included. Mwah!