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.
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!
Very Personal Ads #34: what do I weeeeeeeeaaaaaaaar?
Personal ads! They’re … personal! Very.
So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.
Even when the asking thing feels weird and conflicted.
Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.
And now it’s my weekly ritual. Yay, ritual!
Let’s do this it.
Thing 1: a sense of a good amount of compromise.
Here’s what I want:
To work on getting ready for my — extremely metaphorical — baby (note: not a baby).
Trying to figure out what is the right … level? amount? relationship?… I don’t know, just trying to figure out how I navigate between two things.
On one side, I want and need to have certain level of privacy for my process. I want sovereignty. I want it to be my gestation period.
And I don’t want to be dealing with other people’s stuff (whether that’s things like jealousy or “constructive” criticism or just their growth period around my growth period).
On the other side, I want this to be a communal endeavor. I want cooperation, love, excitement, enthusiasm, support, help, caring, connection.
So I need to find a way to have the good parts of quiet and isolation along with the good parts of partnering and community.
Here’s how I want this to work:
I’m not sure.
But I do know that it’s what I want.
My commitment.
To pay attention to my stuff as it comes up.
To negotiate with my monsters.
To notice things.
To dance up a storm. To do Shiva Nata on it.
Thing 2: Movement, progress, flow on my Playground project.
Here’s what I want:
To be able to stay grounded and centered while I grow into this thing.
I mean, it’s one helluva big change, and this is a classic case of what got you here won’t get you there.
Ways this could work:
Inventing rituals.
Asking for help.
Bringing crazy amounts of conscious awareness into this so I know when I’m approaching something the way I might normally, and whether or not this is a useful approach this time.
Also, we might need another visit from Metaphor Mouse.
My commitment.
To stop.
To breathe.
To give it time. To take naps.
To notice what I need and then ask for it.
There is also something in here about marking time. Not sure what that’s about.
A lot of anniversaries have been going by (a year of email sabbatical, five years since I moved from Tel Aviv to Berlin, ten years without sugar/caffeine …) without that moment of stopping to say oh.
I think part of what needs to be different this time is how I relate to time. And how I relate to myself.
Thing 3: Costumes.
Here’s what I want:
It’s already practically Purim.
Which I know you’re excited about since you totally want to make these again.
And I kind of need something to wear to my meeting with the (cough — where is Metaphor Mouse?!) attorney that makes me look like a grown-up.
But not feel like one.
Ways this could work:
Playfulness!
Also, I will write a post about costumes. And play. Play!
And if you want to leave suggestions for things to dress up as (other than my go-to Roller Derby drag), that would be awesome.
My commitment.
To be silly.
To do Ironic Aerobics.
To laugh.
To give myself full permission to not want to act like a grown-up.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
Outrageously great things.
Not such a fan of the word ‘miracle’ but I think I’m going to go with it.
So many amazing people showed up to help this week with my Love Letter to A Playground.
We’ve seen some terrific spaces. And, even better, I think I may have found the one.
We won’t know for a while whether there is any way to make this work, but wow. I am already in awe over all the support there is for this. Fairy godmothers everywhere. It’s out of control.
And I have been doing insane Dance of Shiva every day, and the epiphanies/ideas/inspiration/surprises are riding in on the waves.
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!
Friday Chicken #81: how do I look with this monocle?
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.
Friday! Chicken!
Hi.
The hard stuff
The February Cranky: still cranky.
I was so sure that it would be better now that I know it’s the February Cranky. It totally worked last week.
But no.
Lots of crank.
Not able to do the stuff that normally gets me out of the cranky.
Screwed up my foot (it’s fine now, no worries) so pretty much everything that makes stuff better was off-limits.
Walking, Dance of Shiva magic, bouncing on the tiny trampoline, swing dancing, a bunch of yoga poses …
Sigh.
Toozday. Stoopid Toozday.
It was overwhelming and hard.
Luckily it ended well.
But man. Lots of teariness and doubt and hating on everything.
Oh, and more systems problems, because we weren’t having enough. Clearly.
To the point that I actually missed a teleclass because I didn’t know I was teaching it.
That sucked. And I felt really bad.
Thank goodness I’ve been in business for enough years that I can write a decent apology letter. Still icky though.
The thing with a systems fail is that it makes you worry about what else isn’t working, and that road leads to all sorts of places.
Hilarious breakdown that was not that funny at the time.
My stuff showed up in a big way and I went off on a crazy long rant about how if I do get the Playground, I will lose my soul.
I’ll be a grown-up. With a mortgage-broker. And how will I look myself in the mirror? And once you have a mortgage broker, it’s all over. I’ll become a Republican. No, a Prussian nobleman. And wear a monocle. And —
And then I had to stop because my gentleman friend was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak.
Did some work on my fear of adulthood sucking all the fun out of my life, and that was also pretty entertaining. I’ll post about it next week.
The good stuff
The Cranky. It went away.
And then one morning I woke up not in a funk.
The Funk of February. The Cranky of the Cranky. Gone. Whew.
Awesome.
And things have been moving. And ohmygosh.
My Very Personal Ad: answered.
I wrote a serious VPA on Monday.
And it looks like (knock on keyboard, please please please), that my wish helped me find the most amazing thing.
I mean, we don’t know if we’ll be able to have it. We don’t even know if we can afford it. Yet. But the kind of place that I want? Exists. And that is big.
Exists. Exists. Exists. Thank you.
Helper mice everywhere.
And some Fairy Godmothers too for my tiny newborn idea.
I have been getting tons of assistance with my Playground from Hiro and Pam and Carolyn and other lovely ladies.
Also, Pam said “Activate your network” and I was all, Huh?! Activate? What? What’s a network?
But then all these people showed up to help.
Every time I have a question, it just gets answered. Before I have time to flip about about how I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.
It’s the most astonishing, wonderful thing ever.
SUPER POWER ACTIVATE!
The Shivanauts call.
Selma and I taught our once-in-awhile teleclass thing and there were so. many. people.
And smart! And fun! And I got to geek out on Shiva Nata for an hour and it was just the best.
It just managed to salvage all sorts of things.
Drunk Pirate Council!
I need to write a Metaphor Mouse post about how we came up with having Drunk Pirate Council instead of meetings.
But the short version? It makes everything about my life better. I actually look forward to the thing I used to dread.
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?
Pinkie Puncher
You gotta go see them. Well, not them. I mean, 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. And he’s under the weather bed on vacation so I don’t have any good Stuisms for you. I’m sorry!
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.
A tiny, sweet thing.
A baby is a tiny, sweet thing. With tiny, sweet toes.
Pure potential. But completely there.
Babies need:
love, protection, caring, acknowledgment, rest, nourishment, space to grow, quiet, comfort, people to smile at it, more love…
Babies do not need:
noise, pressure, prodding, poking, to hear all the reasons why different aspects of their life might not be so great…
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
When you are getting to know a new idea that has come (or is on its way) into your life, it is a tiny, sweet thing.
It does not matter if it this is a business thing, an artistic yearning, a creative spark, a pull, a book you might write someday, a place you need to go to, your new idea.
It is small and new, and it needs your love and protection.
And sometimes what’s best is for it is to only be witnessed by people who will tread softly in its presence.
Who respect the shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Who believe in you and in this tiny, beautiful thing.
Protection.
If this extremely small creature is going to grow and become its own being, it needs unconditional love.
And time to catch its breath.
And sometimes that means keeping it apart from anyone who doesn’t understand this.
Hurt.
It’s not that they don’t mean well. Because they do.
Much like the monsters and walls and stucknesses who want only to protect us with their criticism. To keep us from getting hurt.
Telling you all the things that might be wrong with your baby is something they do (mostly) because they love you. They worry about you. They want you to be okay.
You can honor their intention. Or not. Thank them for their wisdom. Or not.
Either way, you still have a responsibility to this tiny, precious thing.
Shoes.
Sometimes it’s people we love most. The ones who love us most.
We want to tell them about our hopes and dreams and worries and loves.
We want to share all of it.
And then these people who love us so much want to jump in and protect us from all the things that could go horribly wrong.
They might not mean to throw shoes. In fact, those shoes might not even be shoes. But ow, they hurt when they land.
And we all know from experience what happens when tiny, little ideas can’t bear that kind of pain.
Sovereignty.
Sovereignty can be an elusive, challenging thing to practice.
Sovereignty is the quality — and the experience — of not giving a damn what other people think because you feel comfortable and safe in your own space.
It’s being yourself and having room to do it in.
It’s a useful thing to work on. And it’s not the easiest thing in the world.
Boundaries.
Sometimes this means not telling certain people about a baby idea until the idea can walk.
Sometimes they can hear about it but they don’t get to give input.
Sometimes you can ask them to write down all their input and give it to you later, when you and your baby are not so vulnerable and easily shaken.
Sometimes you need to be very firm about what is an okay thing to say and what is not. Or asking clearly for what you need and want.
Sometimes you realize you need more people in your life who can say oh wow, look at its beautiful smile, and fewer people in your life who are going to loudly wonder when it’s going to stop looking so deranged.
Space.
Baby ideas need space to grow in.
Safe, loving space to grow in.
Time.
Baby ideas need time to come into themselves.
To be fussed over and flirted with. To be curious about the world.
Love.
If you had a tiny, sweet baby you wouldn’t let people swing it carelessly around.
Or tell you how its ears are kind of weird looking.
Or terrify you with a list of all the things that could theoretically be going wrong with it right this second even though you were just visiting the doctor and she said everything was fine.
Instead, you ask them to give your tiny, sweet thing a little space.
And then you go to your tiny, sweet thing and you whisper to it. And sing to it. And love it. Because it’s yours. And it’s alive. And it will do the most astonishing things.
Maybe it already has.
Comment zen.
There are lots of smart, interesting things that we could say about why feedback is often useful, and why sharing “constructive criticism” can sometimes be useful.
Today isn’t that day.
Today is the day where we say awwwww look at that. Today is the day when we say oh wow you are bringing something into the world — how do you feel?
Today is the day when we are genuinely curious about what we could create if no one was telling us why we couldn’t.
And yeah, first person who asks if I’m having an actual baby gets kicked in the shins.