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 #71: frozen pipes are not a euphemism, dammit
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.
That was one helluva week, is all I’m saying.
Well, that and the other sixty five thousand things that I’m saying.
Onward. The week must be Chickened.
The hard stuff
Ow. Tired. Ow.
Over-doing. Lots of doing.
Basically, stuff related to doing.
Things-going-wrong in weird and stupid ways.
All somehow related to coldness? And discomfort.
The heating in our hotel didn’t work. Or, not without smelling like burning hotel room.
We had to move rooms. After a couple days, so all of our stuff was unpacked and I had to teach a class and gaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
Then we got back from California and the pipes were frozen.
That was Tuesday and there’s still no water in the kitchen. Lovely.
This has to stop.
I get that people say hard things because they’re feeling hurt. Sometimes it’s a question. Sometimes it’s more of a hurled shoe. Or it feels like one.
And I’m really, really ready to have more people in my life who can take responsibility for their stuff instead of projecting it on me.
This happened in about six different ways this week, so clearly this is a thing to work with.
Sleeplessness + excruciating high-pitch noise = migraine + misery.
Being woken up at 6 a.m. on a Saturday because of Asshat With Leafblower outside the window of our hotel.
After having taught all day Friday and being about to teach all day Sunday, being completely wiped out and in need of rest.
And then complaining bitterly at the local bar (yes, Twitter) and having people be unsympathetic. I mean, sympathy when things suck: it’s what the bar is for.
I’d already had a rude awakening, thank you very much. Two seems a bit much.
And then I avoided the bar for a while, which also wasn’t fun.
Speaking of migraines…
I like my un-laws.* A lot. They are sweet people, and they have really made a point of welcoming me into their thing. And the kids are super cute.
It’s just that I don’t do well with background noise. Or anything squeaky. And an entire day of high-pitched kid-squealing as the default background sets off my HSP-ism.
So I went into hardcore Highly Sensitive Person mode and the inside of my head may have exploded. Or something.
It felt like there wasn’t any me in there anymore. Working on it.
*Unlawful in-laws, yes?
Enormous piles of work stuff.
Obviously this was made more crazy by all the traveling.
Even the fun parts of it (like reviewing seventy-jillion applications for the Kitchen Table and Biggification 2010 and the Destuckification Retreat) just take a crazy long time.
The good stuff
My right people!
The Sacramento Biggification Day workshop. I kind of talked about this in my Very Personal Ad, but man.
The people who came were so cool. The day was so intense. I had so much fun. And my people are having breakthroughs. Whoo. Breakthroughs!
*dances jig*
My people are amazing. And they came from everywhere (London, New York, Chicago, Seattle, Tucson) just to spend a day with me . And working with them is a huge high.
I feel inspired just thinking about them.
Getting to teach in a new environment.
The reason I was in Sacramento was that I was flown out to spend a day teaching at a yoga teacher training.
The theme was … “how to be a yoga teacher and still make money doing it, without becoming some horribly cheesy, sleazy person or having to go back to an office job”.
Or something like that.
So I got to hang out with twenty bright, fun, yoga-teachers-to-be, talking about biggification, right people and all that stuff that we love.
I didn’t know what it would be like, since these aren’t my people. But it turned out they totally were. And we had a blast.
And they asked smart questions. And we did some Shiva Nata. And had some epiphanies. It was awesome.
Sacramento.
Selma and my gentleman friend and I did everything we like!
We had sandwiches at Dad’s. And pizza at Zelda’s. And a spicy breakfast at some greasy spoon whose name escapes me.
Visit with the un-laws.
My gentleman friend’s parents and sisters really love him. And they love me because he does. I appreciate both of those things.
And I made it!
Jew-ey tree-hugging vegetarian urban me spent an entire day in conservative, small town, evangelical America (what I believe is now known as “real America”) and … it was fine. It was fun.
And I’m pretty sure I didn’t accidentally blurt out anything related to potentially dangerous topics (climate change, queer culture, songs we used to sing at socialist summer camp, our dreamboat president), so phew.
Quote of the day (care of my gentleman friend’s seven year old nephew):
“Look at me! I’m kicking a rock!”
Policy updates. Finally.
Got around to doing a bunch of tiny but not unimportant edits to my Official Boring Policy page. Since, apparently, there were bits that were confusing.
Normally I dislike doing policy-related things, but this time I documented my Steps In The Process (it’s just one guy) and turned what I learned into a teaching tool for my Kitchen Table people.
So that was good.
Reading the Kitchen Table applications.
I have smart, interesting, lovely, schweet people who get it. They say things like this:
“Let me just say that even if I don’t make it to the Kitchen Table this time around, and no matter what else, THANK YOU. Thank you so much for everything you do here. For everything you’ve done, even though you might not have realized you were doing it, for me.”
“Writing my answers to these questions has been such a useful exercise that even if I don’t get in, I still feel grateful.”
Man, I feel so lucky to have people like this wanting to be a part of what I do.
First candle. Tonight!
It’s Hannukah in 3, 2, 1 … well, tonight it will be.
Yup. Chag urim sameach, y’all.
I know the candles will make everything cheerier. Looking forward to a week of it.
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 all about:
Mangled Syntax
Me: “Sorry about the mangled syntax.”
My gentleman friend: “Mangled Syntax? You know it’s just one guy, right?”
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.
Anyway, the gems from this week, including Stu’s acetyl Freudian slips.
- “Misstep is not as good anymore” instead of the stuck that’s not supposed to be there anymore
- “for that stronger standing moral abuse experienced hit” instead of for that visceral understanding where all of you has experienced it
- “sorry but the mangled sin tax” instead of sorry about all the mangled syntax
- “how many more years a pooper processing this to the ugliness” instead of how many more years of over-processing this to death
- “Hubby chooses to raw fest some punk” instead of Havi chooses to process some gunk
- “closeted guys” instead of also, guys?
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.
The stuck that’s not supposed to be there anymore
There’s this moment where you look at a stuck and shake your head because you absolutely cannot believe it’s still there.
Blink. Blink. Nope. Still there.
And then you say things like this:
“But I’ve worked on this sooooooo much!”
“No, really. I have learned this lesson seventeen thousand times. There is no reason to have to learn it again.”
“Okay. How many more years of over-processing this to death is really necessary? Because I think I’m supposed to be done with this one.”
“Ow. Enough.”
You’re right. Completely frustrating.
Permission to feel hugely annoyed: granted.
Oh goodness. There are all sorts of legitimate reasons for why this situation comes up in its annoyingly familiar way.
And it’s still hard, even when you know those reasons.
What’s actually going on, not that this helps.
Well, a couple of possibilities.
You’re waiting for the last penny. You know, to drop. Or maybe the next-to-last penny.
The point is, you’re close to whatever it is that will finish rewriting the pattern.
Or it could be that you’ve downloaded whatever understanding or realization that you needed, and your mind gets it. Completely.
But for whatever reason, that sense of knowing hasn’t fully made its way to your body yet, and you’re still waiting for that visceral understanding where all of you has experienced it.
Or it could be that a current situation is reminding you so much of a past thing that it’s just kind of knocked you out of right now, and you’re reliving old patterns.
Either way, it’s still a horribly uncomfortable sensation and I’m sorry.
Ugh.
I know that when this happens to me*, I feel vulnerable and confused and irritated.
And disoriented, because I need to know that this stuff makes sense on some level, even if I can’t figure out all the details yet.
* That would be right now, since yeah, I’m writing about it.
Looking at my stuck. Hello stuck. I have a stuck.
Oh, the stucknesses, they are many. But this particular one is about not being able to practice something I know to be true.
What I know is that the less I work, the better I work. Or: the more time that gets built-in for rest and recovery, the more I get accomplished.
And there’s significantly more flow, ease and general fabulousness in my business. And in the rest of my life too, obviously.
I have seen other biggified people go through this process.
Better still, I’ve experienced it myself. I have written about the magic of emergency vacation, about taking time to make time, about practicing this, and how when you’re working on your stuff, there’s time, period.
And yet … I know it and I can’t live it. That’s where I am.
What I know about my stuck.
The thing I know to be true — that doing less creates more — is ridiculously counter-intuitive.
So it doesn’t really matter that I’ve experienced the truth of it or that I believe it in my mind. My body rebels.
I have pain around past experiences of not-doing that were unstructured and didn’t involve any kind of personal intention or whatever.
If I am going to create an environment where there is safety in doing less, we’re going to need structures that support me.
Some of these structures are going to exist in theory or in spirit or in energy, like my canopy of peace. And some of them are going to have to be very grounded in reality and have tangible elements that I can tug on.
What I know about stuck in general.
It always helps to give it legitimacy.
“Even though I’m not sure why this insists on staying stuckified, there’s probably a reason for it still being around.”
It always helps to give it permission to exist.
“You are my stuck. You’re allowed to be here. For now. Even though I don’t know how to be done with you yet, at least I’m interacting with you in some sort of semi-aware way, so hey, progress.”
It always helps to remember that it isn’t me.
“Even though this particular piece of stuck feels so familiar, and I’m positive that it’s this integral part of who I am as a person, I’m trying to remember that it’s not.
“It’s a temporary part of what I’m going through right now.”
It always helps to give it time.
“I do not have to resolve this thing right this second. I get to take whatever steps I need, at whatever pace feels right.
“Oh, and I don’t have to like this part.”
It always helps to have next steps.
“What are my next steps? Is there a way I can build in tiny pieces of what I want? Can I create small experiences (ten and fifteen minute chunks) of restorative time?”
If “isolation is the dream-killer”, who are my helper mice?*
“Can I use the Deguiltified Chicken Board at the Kitchen Table?
“Is there someone at the Twitter Bar for me to check in with as I experiment?”
* “Isolation is the dream-killer” is a Barbara Sher-ism. And helper mice are people who like helping. I can’t believe I didn’t put that in the glossary.
How I’m trying to reassure myself.
By meeting myself where I am. This is where I am right now. Talking to a stuck.
By being all whooooooo scientific method about it. Obviously we’ve tried it the old way in a million different iterations. Can we try it this new way? Is there a structure for experimentation? Can we track this thing as we try new stuff?
By spending some time with my duck.
By using a negotiator to help me talk to walls. And the fog.
That’s what I’ve got for now.
For me, the most useful aspect of all of this is just remembering that the stuck is something I can interact with.
I might not be done with it today — or even for a while — but at least I have things I can experiment with. Me and my stuck. Not me being stuck.
We’re in some sort of relationship with each other, instead of me just tripping over being me all the time. Which I find weirdly reassuring, at least some of the time.
Comment zen for today …
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
And, operating under that assumption, we try to give other people room to have their stuff, without thinking that it says anything about us. If we can. Or rephrase that in whatever way works for you (you don’t have to sound like a yoga teacher). See you in the comments. Or tomorrow for the Chicken!
Item! Gee whiz!
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.
Tee hee! Brevity is funny.
Or, as my gentleman friend’s seven year old nephew says, Gee Whiz! That might be even better than Item!
Item! Post No. 44 in a once-a-week series that is partly responsible for my post-it note dilemma, but also solves part of it at the same time.
Item! Victorian legwarmers!
I know.
This obsession with things sock-related (and fansocks-related) must cease.
But really, how can you not buy stuff from someone called Mademoiselle Mermaid?
Victorian legwarmers: red and lacy. Love.
She’s @MissMermaid on Twitter. Found via my favorite Portland shop — Sock Dreams who are on the Twitters too as @sockdreams.
Item! One helluva wedding vow.
You remember Pace and Kyeli from the milk song, right?
Also from the taxi debacle in Austin.
The girls just got married (I couldn’t make it but the wedding invitations were the most wonderful ever). Plus they live-blogged it, which rocks.
And they’ve been posting about their very non-standard vows.
This one knocked me out.
“… to put my best effort and highest priority toward solving major problems in our relationship, and, if those problems remain unsolvable after a year and a day, to let you go.”
You have to read the rest because it’s fascinating. And brave. And beautiful.
They’re @kyeli and @pacesmith on Twitter.
Item! Thinking about audiences.
A nice piece from Maryann about some of the things people go through when not loving a play (best line ever: My husband is angry at music.)
She looks at it from the perspective of the place giving the cultural experience, at the variety of people experiencing it, and asks smart questions.
“I also expect that sometimes cultural experiences will disappoint, and it doesn’t bother me when that happens.
But here’s the problem with the first problem, the problem of expectation: it would be ridiculous to require that people study up before going to a concert.”
She’s @maryanndevine on Twitter and I adore her.
Item! Aardvarks!
I’ll read pretty much anything Heidi writes because she’s highly entertaining.
But now she’s biggifying up a storm and I could not be more proud and happy.
You need to read this because it’s about aardvarks.
I could tell you that this aardvark was sensitive to cues and respectful of personal space, but that would be, as my Grandpa used to say, a fib. Because, oh no! This was one ballsy and persistent little bastard. (And no, my Grandpa would never have said that, being a preacher and all).
And he’s all, “Oh yeah? Who died and made you the queen of dreamland?”
And I’m like, “Wha –? Excuse me? It’s my mind, you know.”
And he’s all, “Um, it’s my Africa.”
And I’m like, “That doesn’t even make sense. This discussion is over.”
p.s. If you’re going to buy one of her lotions and potions (“for mixed up emotions”), the Chai and the Ease are yum. Selma and I got to sample her wares early.
But I didn’t tell Selma. They were too good to share.
She’s @curiousheidihi on Twitter.
Item! Char wrote a manifesto
Sweet post from Char where she uses my dammit list as inspiration to come up with her own manifesto for her relationship with being a patient and caregiver.
What I really like is how she gives a great mix of “here are super practical things I need to take care of” and items that are more about emotional safety and sovereignty.
I also like the idea of having a specialty dammit list to deal with specific situations that can be trigger-ey. (Note to self: this would be a great exercise).
Anyway, read Char’s post and maybe you’ll end up writing your own.
“I will not leave an appointment without being sure all of my questions are completely answered. If more issues come up than can be answered in the one appointment, I will make a second appointment before leaving the office.”
Yay, Char.
Item! Love letter to a knife.
You have to love Denise.
Her Twitter bio?
Anthropromorphising edibles for over 40 years.
She’s more into food (and more interesting about food) than anyone I know.
And this love letter to her new knife is a perfect little thing.
“Keith, who gave me this weapon of delicious destruction is pretty great too, but he’ll have to wait for a Hallmark-sanctioned holiday to get his love letter.
He loves tools. I’m notoriously cheap. You can see the collision course.
My former nemisis, the carrot? We’re having an affair. I relish the mire poix. I melted carrots into stroganoff last night (Tzar Nicholas is spinning in his grave-y) just so I could fine-dice a carrot.”
Love.
She’s @deniseds on Twitter.
Item! Accidental baking soda volcanoes. They’re big in Japan.
Actually, I just really like saying “big in Japan” and then going onto an Alphaville kick for the rest of the day.
This is the post.
“Vinegar and milk evokes for me not sunny Italia, but elementary school science class. In which we learned that adding vinegar or citrus to milk makes a clumpy, sour mess. It might be turned into some kind of cheese, but it’s not something you’d want (or be allowed) to drink.
They release new flavors regularly. I’m keeping an eye out for baking soda volcano.”
She’s @japandra 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.
The latest shivanautical realizations and epiphanies, including some destuckifying (mine) and a sweet bit about a hedgehog (not mine).
Also, Elizabeth talks about how doing Shiva Nata helped her see energy.
It’s neat, because she’s smart, creative and reassuringly skeptical about things woo and woo-ish. Which makes it that much more fun.
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- A permission slip (if it’s for me, I’d like one for a nap, please) for someone you like. That person can totally be you. In fact, if you want, you can do both.
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.
How many good business ideas am I this blind to?
This is important, guys.
Because it happens everywhere. All the time.
And I’m not always around to catch it.
Okay. Here’s what happened.
Someone in my Kitchen Table program was working on getting used to the idea of biggifying a new product-ey thing she has. Awesome. And we’ve been helping her.
Let’s call her Person One.
She got all excited and wanted to give the product to her fellow Kitcheners as a thank you for the “space and support and kindness” we’ve given her so consistently and lovingly.
Which is super generous.
And all of us jumped in and said oooh oooh oooh, can you do a 2-for-1 deal instead so that we can still support your thing as well as you giving us a cool present?
That’s not the story. That’s the background.
The important part is coming up.
When smallification gets in the way of a really good idea.
People loved the 2-for-1 idea because Person One’s products are so cool that it was really hard for people to decide which to get.
So another wonderful person (Person Two!) thought of a way to help Person One make it easier for people to decide.
It was a terrific idea, but … it was kinda sorta related to a new class Person Two was about to teach.
Person Two was so afraid we were going to think that she was promoting her class(eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwww, right?), that she went totally overboard to assure us that she wasn’t.
In fact, she very nearly didn’t mention her idea for helping Person One at all.
Sometimes mentioning your thing helps someone else with their thing.
Me:
Hellooooooooooooooo? You guys? Cross-freaking-promotion?
Person Two, I don’t know how much your class costs, but it would be a really cool offer (assuming you asked Person One and she thought it was a good idea) to have some sort of VIP version.
Which could come with Person One’s product, and then you could build it in to the price and pay Person One however much she wanted for it.
Then more people hear about Person One’s amazing thing.
And you get to give a goody bag that will actually HELP your people get the results you want them to get.
And it makes your thing look even more appealing and people get addicted to Person One’s wonderful creation.
Person Two, I’m seeing you being so careful to not seem like you’re “self-promoting” that you’re maybe overlooking what could totally be a genius win-win-win-win-win kind of thing. Am I wrong?
I mean, even if neither of you want to do something like this in this particular case, this is still exactly the WAY we want to be thinking in business, right?
And when we’re not trying to stay tiny, we get to help other people more.
Person Two:
omg! Havi! You are such biggified smartness!
STARING US TOTALLY IN THE FACE.
Good grief, how many good business ideas am I this blind to?
Exactly.
How many indeed? And not just ideas and opportunities that Person Two specifically is accidentally missing out on. All of us.
The wanting to hide part isn’t bad. But the hiding itself? Not so good.
The kind of people I hang out with really, really, really don’t want to be all self-promotional.
And I get that. Hell, I support that. It’s even on my dammit list. Gross. Who wants to be all promotional? Bleaaaaaaargh.
But if the thing you are mentioning is going to help someone else, you’re not “promoting” yourself. You’re promoting the general well-being of the people who get to benefit from your thing.
You’re making sure that your Right People are getting what they need, whether that’s acknowledgement and support or an actual thing that could help them.
You’re not forcing it on them. You’re just reminding them that it’s there.
And you’re being a connector mouse. Which is a total freaking mitzvah, as far as I’m concerned.
The ways we can make life better for our Right People are pretty much everywhere.
And sometimes we try so hard to stay small and unobtrusive (because we don’t want people to think we’re asshats and throw shoes at us) that we miss them.
When you give yourself that kind of … basic permission to exist (it’s the sovereignty thing again), you’re strong.
And then you see what your options are. Because you’re not looking at them from the perspective of being tiny and smooshable anymore.
How many good business ideas am I this blind to? I don’t know. But I’m going to be paying attention.
Comment zen for today …
Oh yes. We all have stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We’re practicing.
Very Personal Ads #23: In which I say Zoooooooooooooom
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: back-up!
Here’s what I want:
So my Biggification 2010 program filled up before I even got around to announcing it, officially or otherwise.
And my Destuckification Retreat has one spot left (?!), after it was briefly Item!ized the other day.*
Which is brilliant. Thank you, Very Personal Ads of Sundays past.
What I want now is a back-up list. Because some people may not make it past the final interview stage.
And you can pretty much count on someone having to cancel for whatever reason.
* Note to self: add “Item!ized” to the glossary of Fluent-Self-isms. Along with Havilanche.
Ways this could work:
I could ask my First Mate to set up a waiting list.
Maybe there is some elegant red velvet ropiness that could happen there too.
Some other, better idea could come to me.
My commitment.
I will be madly appreciative of all the amazing people who want to be a part of my stuff.
And I will try to set up my systems in such a way that it’s really clear what to do and how it works.
I will do a little jig.
Thing 2: Some time off. In a regular sort of way.
Here’s what I want:
I want to go back to taking the day off on Wednesday.
Admittedly, this was only ever a theoretical construct but what the hell. It was one I kind of liked. Even if never actually happened.
Here’s how I want this to work:
The power of logic.
Since I often teach classes on the weekend, I don’t really have a weekend. But I forget that, since I don’t do work-work (i.e. in front of the Infernal Machine) on weekends.
It is time for me to really, truly, not-just-theoretically start counting teaching as work-work, and to insist on a weekend in the middle of the week.
I’m ready to start assimilating this new definition of work-work, and to notice when I start to marginalize what I do just because I happen to enjoy it.
My commitment.
To make this a high-priority thing.
To ask for deguiltified reminders from my gentleman friend and the group leaders at the Kitchen Table.
To schedule a few non-work-ey things on Wednesdays that are purely enjoyable, so that I don’t accidentally slip while I’m getting acclimated to this new pattern.
To be patient with myself. It may be a long time coming, but it’s still a big, symbolic shift and I am allowed to take my time with it.
To not let people lecture me about how I should have done this earlier or how it’s so obvious that work-work is a broad thing. Or whatever. I don’t have to be lectured.
Thing 3: I have a thank you
Here’s what it is.
I don’t know if you guys remember this but a while back I had an ask for my Sacramento Biggification Day.
Specifically, I wanted Right People for it who were awesome. The program filled up within a day or two, and pretty soon we had a waiting list as well.
What I didn’t realize though was just how right those Right People were.
This is basically the best thing in the entire world.
So I teach about the Right People thing all the time, but the reality of it is still mind-boggling.
On Friday I had the pleasure of spending the day with some of the brightest, kind-hearted-est, silliest right people in the history of right people.
I genuinely adored every single person there, and they all got on fabulously with each other.
The amazing thing was that it was only one day — and still by the end of it there were all these beautiful friendships.
And everyone was completely committed to biggifying each other up in a sincere, loving, hey-we’re-in-this-together sort of way.
Thank you, right people. Thank you, concept of Right People.
To everyone who came (from London, Chicago, New Jersey, Tucson, Seattle, Portland and all over California) to spend one day with me:
I like you so much. And I believe in you so much.
To the idea that I am allowed (and maybe even required) to work with the kind of people that I like being around — people who get me and like me, wow.
You have changed my life, you crazy, sweet little conceptual thing.
Thank you!
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
The update on what’s happened since last time.
Really, really good news!
First off: I wanted help getting through the fog.
And I ended up getting in the zone (thanks to a combination of a brilliant session with Hiro and doing some Shiva Nata).
I got more done in two days than I’ve managed in months. Zoooooooooooooom. It was fantastic.
Thanks to those two days of mad accomplishings, I was able to brunch thricely, which was lovely.
I also wanted sovereignty help with my difficult situations. It feels better. Does that count?
Way less upset, at any rate. Getting the monies from one person and still waiting on the other. But am over being hurt. That’s the extra-important thing. I’m still committed to doing what it takes to get the monies.
The other thing I brought up was my holiday list of businesses I’d like to see biggify. And I can’t really report on that yet because who knows. But time will tell.
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. And that way, if you feel like leaving one (you totally don’t have to), you get to be part of this experiment too. 🙂
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.
My commitment.
I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird.