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.
Very Personal Ads #18: awkward love letter to a place that might or might not have a labyrinth
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 thing.
Thing 1: Perfect-for-me spot to lead a retreat.
Dear perfect-for-me spot to lead a retreat,
Selma and I will be teaching several retreats this year, and we are still looking for the perfect place for one of them. Maybe two of them.
We love you and we want to find you. Yes, it’s a little forward of me to declare undying love before we’ve even met, but I know you are waiting for me too.
You:
You are fun. You are calm. You are restful. You are beautiful. You have that certain magically charged something. We go zing together.
You are (ideally) on the west coast. I’d be happiest if you were somewhere between San Francisco and the Oregon coast.
But yeah, I’d be willing to go as far south as San Luis Obispo or as far north as Vancouver.
The important parts:
You have room for twenty people to stay comfortably. Mostly single rooms, with some doubles in case people want to share. But no more than two beds to a room.
Each bedroom needs to have its own bathroom.
You are not “rustic”. (No bunk beds, no log cabins, no antlers and/or potpourri hanging from walls).
Being with you is all about comfort. This is not a low-end production. We want to feel safe, supported and loved while we’re doing our wacky working-on-our-stuff stuff.
But on the other hand, you’re also not excessively super-fancy resort-ey (we’re not so into enormous flat-screen televisions or in-room massage or whatever).
The other bits:
I would love it if you had a labyrinth. Then I can do my wacky labyrinth exercise before we actually walk the labyrinth.
And, because of where you’re located, I already know that the food you provide is local, sustainable, simple and delicious, made with love, with plenty of options for vegetarians and omnivores alike.
We’re going to be doing yoga and Dance of Shiva, in addition to mad biggification and destuckifying. So we’ll need a comfortable place to do movement stuff.
A whiteboard! Is a good thing.
You like rubber ducks, right? Or at least the one who is my assistant. Because she’ll be co-teaching. 🙂
You have a functioning, usable website that I can send people to.
Oh, and it’s really important to me that someone who works for you actually responds when my (non-duck) assistant writes you emails asking questions. We’ve already had to disqualify a dozen places because they just don’t write or call back.
So yeah, I’m feeling a bit frustrated, which is why I’m so ready to meet you and click with you. Yup. Whiirrrrrrrr click.
My commitment.
I will love you madly.
I will treat you right.
We will leave you the way we found you.
We will clear the energy and fill it with sparkly wonder.
I will talk you up on my blog and with my duck-loving pirate cult. Having me be a part of your thing will biggify you.
And I promise to fill this retreat on my own with my own people. Not a problem.
That’s why I’m not interested in applying to be part of an events calendar.
Mmmm. And I don’t want to have to send a proposal. This is my proposal. It’s a love letter.
That’s it. I love you. I want to meet you. I want to nuzzle your ear. Metaphorically.
Love,
Havi (and Selma)
p.s. If you had a hot tub? Or are near some mineral springs or something? I would not complain.
Thing 2: A power-hitting outfielder for the Giants.
Here’s what I want:
My gentleman friend is a fairly fanatical San Francisco Giants fan, and I’ve kind of caught that tragic, tragic disease by osmosis.
Though, weirdly, I was somehow immune from it while I was still living in San Francisco.
Anyway, the pain of having dazzlingly strong pitching and … uh, not much else is just. too. much.
Ways this could work:
Honestly? I have no idea. Of all the ridiculous asks, this is up there.
Maybe the Giants front office could pull their heads out of the normal place their heads reside and start reading the McCovey Chronicles. Or Moneyball. Come on!
And since that’s not going to happen, maybe a miracle.
Maybe Matt Holliday will suddenly fall into our laps. I don’t know.
Or maybe I’ll just stop caring so much and the pain will go away. That could work too.
My commitment.
I will cheer.
I will try to stop rolling my eyes every time I hear any Giants-related news.
I will occasionally say something nice about Barry Zito.
I will allow my gentleman friend to totally co-opt my Very Personal Ads with his addictively obsessive passion.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since … last time.
I asked for clarity with my Kitchen Table program changes for this coming year.
And got it in spades, thanks to help from Hiro and lots of invisible support. Yay.
My other ask was about cranking out blog posts to use during all the mad traveling I’m doing.
No progress on that one yet. I haven’t really had time to think about it since I was, uhhhh, traveling.
But I’ll sit with it some more. I may have to end up rewording the ask (or just rethinking how I want to ask for it).
What about you guys?
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. I commit to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and to interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as is possible.
Thanks for doing this with me!
Friday Chicken #65: worst band name ever
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.
I’m in Canadia! Visiting Hiro! Excitement!
The hard stuff
Vancouver without Vancouver-ing.
Hiro lives in a small town on Vancouver Island so we (Selma, my gentleman friend and me) flew into Vancouver and then jumped on a ferry.
I love Vancouver. And it’s really weird to be almost there but not.
To not be hanging out with my dear friend Jane.
To not be visiting the cafe where Mario sings the milk song.
Also, I cannot believe it’s been fourteen months since my last Vancouver trip. Need to plan another one.
Stress + decision-making = ugh.
Stressful decisions.
Processing stuff.
Had to make some very uncomfortable choices, made all the more uncomfortable because my stuck has a huge effect on the people who work with me.
Still not happy about the way someone else’s decision resulted in the non-paying-off of a huge financial (non-biz-related) risk that I took.
And now my situation is having a negative impact on other people. UGH UGH UGH.
Travel.
Still don’t like it.
And yet I do it all the freaking time. Something to work on.
Nightmare.
Not sure what it was but I woke up screaming. Not fun.
The good stuff
Visiting Hiro!
I think of Hiro as my wise, goofy older sister.
And since we talk on the phone at least twice a week, I always forget that we’ve never actually met in real life.
So now Selma and I are hanging out with our playmate in real time, drinking tea and giggling. And it’s wonderful.
So so great!
Holiday!
Hiro lives in the most beautiful place ever.
I could really just stare out her window for days on end.
That view, plus that fact that she drags us off to hot tubs and stuffs us with delicious food is turning this into an even more delightful mini-vacation than it already was.
Contented sigh.
Making progress on my New Big Thing.
With Hiro-magic, stuff is moving on this.
Very happy about it.
A smooth Friday.
This kind of belongs in last week’s Chicken, except that it started happening right after the Chicken got posted.
Fridays are always crazy-busy for me. Blog posts! Cleaning! Baking challah! Clients!
Usually by the time my assistant shows up or my first appointment is supposed to happen, I’m still trying to get through breakfast.
And then, oh no I forgot the bread dough! And so on.
But last Friday was the first ever Smooth Friday.
I was able to manage an hour of morning yoga, a walk with my gentleman friend, bread-dough-making and breakfast all before 9:30 a.m.
It was miraculous.
Roller derby!
The new season doesn’t start until January, but luckily there are all sorts of meets and match-ups still happening — and of course the national finals are coming.
My gentleman friend and I went to a couple exhibition bouts this week and are overjoyed to be back in the ass-kicking world of derby.
And then we went and had a beer with Sparky FIrepants. Mr. Pants!
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.”
So this week, I bring you:
The Koan Brothers.
It’s … just one guy. Possibly Buddhist.
No Stuisims this week (alas) because Stu is on holiday too. He’ll be back — both here and to his annoying self — next week, I promise.
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.
Ask Havi #27: Off-topic and totally random.
Note: it is almost impossible to get on the Ask Havi list. This person got in by a. being one of my clients or students, b. flattering the hell out of my duck, and c. making life easy on me by being clear about what the question was and what details I could use.
It’s probably not even slightly surprising, but I get all sorts of questions that don’t really have anything to do with what I teach.
Some are too nuanced or complicated to answer in a hundred and forty characters at the bar (on Twitter) — and others don’t manage to fall even into the wildly broad categories of stuff I to write about here.
I always figured the right time would show up to answer some of the ones that show up over and over . And that time is (apparently) now, as I am off visiting Hiro and we are being a little bit silly.
So. Here they are. The answers to five off-topic questions — which you may or may not have been dying to know.
“Why is your gentleman friend your ‘gentleman friend’?”
Oh.
There is a story there.
When we first met, my gentleman friend called his parents and told them he’d fallen madly in love.
The next time they spoke, his mother asked after the ‘lady friend’.
My gentleman friend: You mean my girlfriend?
My gentleman friend’s mother: You’re a little too old for a girlfriend.
Awesome.
So I became the lady friend. And my gentleman friend is my gentleman friend.
“Why don’t you admit that your gentleman friend is actually a girl?”
Huh.
You know what’s funny? I talk about all sorts of things here that people would normally never bring up.
I’ve written about poverty and terror and stuff blowing up. And about my friend who is dead and my conversations with walls and the fact that my filling system is arranged by chakras.
Also, I live in northeast Portland, which is a place where my having a lady friend would not even be interesting.
Believe me, if my gentleman friend were my lady friend, y’all would know about it.
“How do you bake bread without using sugar?”
Juice.
I feed my little bread yeasties with juice instead of sugar.
Any non-citrus juice that’s 100% fruit will work, but I like grape juice best for bread. It does turn the dough a little bit purple-ey, but you get used to it.
Kedem is the brand I bake with, but my friends make my recipe work with whatever they have around the house, and it’s good that way too.
Mmm, bread!
“Why do you think yoga mats are evil?”
Um.
I’m not sure that I do think that yoga mats are evil.
But I must have said something to that effect because you’re asking the question. And yeah, it does kind of sound like something I might say. 🙂
So. Let’s see.
I think that yoga mats made with PVC are evil. First of all, you’re breathing in poison. And the manufacturing process (plus their inevitable destination as landfill), means that buying one is participating in crappifying the world. Neither of those are very yoga things to do.
If you’re going to get a mat, get one that’s biodegradable — or at least one that you’ll be able to leave it to your grandkids in good condition, like Peter’s manduka mat.
My deeper point is that mats are not so much evil as not really necessary.
A mind and a few working body parts, and you can do yoga. It doesn’t actually require much more than being able to breathe. Which is one of the things I love about it.
The danger comes when we start thinking that we need stuff to do yoga, and we get caught up in the trappings — in the “yoga industrial complex”.
The truth is that a blanket works great for most poses, and the floor works well for the rest. And we sometimes forget that having a narrow rectangle defining our space can really confine our creativity of movement.
But I also don’t think it’s bad to have a mat — not at all.
I have one myself (the compostable kind) and I use it when I want to work on balance stuff, or to mark out the space of “I am practicing yoga”.
For me, seeing the mat on the floor is a reminder that this is my daily ritual. That this is something I need and something I’m committed to.
“I don’t get it. You’re a big tree-hugging yoga hippie Shivanaut but you also like Roller Derby. Explain.”
“Explain”?
Roller Derby is all about drag, brilliantly bad puns, ass-kicking, stripey socks, marginalized culture, and beer.
Which is pretty much a list of all the stuff I like.
And I also like hugging trees.
We’re complex and multi-faceted beings.
I don’t know if I have a better explanation than that.
And that’s as good a place to finish today as any.
Honestly? I can’t come up with a conclusion for this one.
But since we’re off-topic anyway, feel free to jump in with stories of odd/interesting things that people ask you. Or that you wish they’d ask you. Or … anything else, really.
Comment zen:
We’ve all got our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.
Item! My brain just rickrolled me.
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.
I’m in Vancouver.
That’s not really an Item (Item!) — I just thought you’d want to know.
Item! Post No. 38 in a semi-ongoing series that still has no point and still isn’t going anywhere.
Item! My brain just rickrolled me!
Seriously. I just emerged from meditation with “Never Gonna Give You Up” in my head.
What’s up with that?
Never mind. Please don’t tell me.
Item! Office Hours! Amazing.
Wendy. One hour. Once a week. Answering tech questions by phone. Like, for fun. You know, stuff about E-Junkie, AWeber, Paypal, WordPress. Stuff like that.
“I’m trying out a little thing I like to call Open Office Hours. Which, if you abbreviate it to OOH, you are required to pronounce with a trill of delight, like someone who’s just been presented with a surprise chocolate cake. “OOH! For moi?”
Eyelash-batting is optional, but adds immeasurably to the effect.”
I can vouch for Wendy as someone I have known for a while and met personally, and as someone who is genuinely smart, funny, kind and caring. And a patient explain-er. And a total freaking goofball. In the best way, of course!
She’s @wendycholbi on Twitter.
Item! Mother said knock you out!
Okay. So this is five minutes of your life.
But, if you ask me, completely worth it. I cannot remember the last time I laughed this hard.
Mr. B The Gentleman Rhymer: 30 years of hip-hop history in five minutes on the banjo, with his song “Chap-Hop History”.
My gentleman friend and I have been obsessively playing this wackjob gem all week. And yes, against all odds, Mr. B actually is British.
Via Laughing Squid — @laughingsquid on Twitter.
Item! You’re a grown-up now.
Yeah! And that means you get to jump on a trampoline! Wheeeeeee!
From our very own JoVE (pronounced Jo Vee-Eee):
“You’re a grown-up now.
And you work in a field where you have considerable autonomy.
Figure out how you work best and then design your day and your space to support your work.
It’ll feel weird at first. And you might have to experiment a bit. But sitting at your desk in silence might not be the most productive way for you to work.”
Here’s the rest of it.
She’s @jovanevery on Twitter.
Item! Waves. Socks.
A couple Thursdays ago I referenced this post that Emily had written where she
answered a bunch of my wacky questions in different posts on her blog.
The stuff that came up was so completely moving that I wanted to talk about her post some more.
Or really just to quote from it:
“What do I need right now?
To relax. To have patience. To stop pushing so hard. To not flail about waiting for something to pluck me from the waves. To rest easy and ride the waves.
To recognize the storms and boats as they approach and prepare for a little more rocking. To dive deep and see some of the cool shit that’s deep under there. It’s all part of the whole.
The waves will never be completely still. Just float!”
So great. She also wrote a post on extroversion for introverts that I loved:
“Today I have, yes…stripes.
Purple and orange and black stripes. No one else can see them (unless I let them), so those in charge aren’t going to know or care. But somehow, it makes a difference. I can remember I’m a happy snowflake and not an automaton. “
She’s @emilyroots on Twitter.
Item! My new pottery obsession.
I met this guy at a Last Thursday event last year in Northeast Portland.
And bought mugs from him that are kind of like these.
So now I’ve been stalking his Etsy shop.
And this is the new most gorgeous thing I found. Love.
He’s not on Twitter. I know! Tragic.
Item! My other favorite comic.
So last week I asked you guys for stuff to Itemize (Item!) and got tons of good stuff.
And someone said that I have “tragically neglected to Itemize xkcd”. Which is true in the sense that it has never been an Item! itself, and is also a brilliant recommendation (thank you!).
The funny part is that I’ve actually linked to xkcd on three separate occasions from this blog. Just not from the Item-ey posts.
Once in a piece called don’t bother taking a deep breath, and again (“science works, bitches!”) when I wrote about triggers.
And then in the best Friday Chicken ever — the one with the song about the big jew frog.
Anyway. All that to say that instead of talking about xkcd today, I’m going to Itemize my other favorite comic: Ryan North’s super-obscurely-genius Dinosaur Comics.
I live for it.
He’s @ryanqnorth 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.
Lovely guest post from Char about how it took her a year to actually try Dance of Shiva. It’s about the patterns that came up during the not doing, and the things she learned along the way.
Very thoughtful. Very useful. For Shivanauts and also for people who have no idea what I’m talking about.
Item! Comments!
So it was really cool the other week when I got to work on my practice of how I ask for stuff and you guys gave me the best reading recommendations ever!
So I’m going to try it again.
Here’s what I want:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- What you’re doing to mark the season changing (doesn’t have to be a profound ritual or anything — breaking out the hoodies counts too).
My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and I will interact with their ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as is possible for me.
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.
Boring old me and my pet kangaroo
One of the things I’ve heard a lot of this year is how I (supposedly) have an unfair advantage by being kooky.*
Because, apparently, life is harder for non-kooky people.
The people who tell me this say things like:
“Come on. You have a duck. You’re a big weirdo who files things by chakras and is obsessed with roller derby and makes unforgivably dorky puns on Twitter.
“Of course you’re successful. Of course people pay attention to what you say. Because you’re a memorable freaking wackjob. Like Naomi. But vegetarian-er.
“But what about the rest of us who are not kooky and weird??????”
*Kooooooooooooooooky. Actually, I probably do have an unfair advantage, but it’s definitely not related to the kookiness.
Point one.
You do. not. have to. be kooky and weird.
It is not a requirement for anything. Outside of carnival work, maybe.
Point two.
Every time you’re doing your thing and being all yourself — out loud — your Right People are going to be drawn to that.
The being-yourself-ness of it all does not, in and of itself, have to be quirky, odd or remarkable.
It’s the act of you being all hellooooooo, this is me, baby. That’s what counts.
You don’t have to lift your t-shirt up and yell Spring Break! That part is completely optional.
Point three.
There are no boring people.
You are alive. There is something interesting about you. You just don’t know that it’s interesting because you’re too busy getting really, really excited about scones in a tube or feeding your pet kangaroo.
Point four.
But if there were? If you were the Most Boring Person That Ever Was? You could totally work that.
Because it would be the best brand ever.
And anyway, there’s nothing wrong with having laid-back and low-key as part of your thing.
You can even put those qualities on your dammit list.**
** I get to be a wallflower dammit. I’ll wear only beige if I want to dammit. I don’t have to go to networking events if I’d rather stay in bed dammit. Ha! So there.
Bring on the examples!
An example for point one (you don’t have to be kooky).
Robert Middleton. Amazon. The Small Business Association. There, three examples. All decidedly unkooky.
An example for point two (because it’s about being yourself out loud).
Okay. Mark Silver is a Sufi business coach who plays frisbee with Buddhists. What’s not to like?
An example for point three (and anyway there are no boring people).
You know who else thinks she’s not kooky and interesting?
Mahala.
Her Twitter bio says:
“Twenty years with brain injury has taught me: identify with love over limitation.”
Twenty years. With brain injury. And now she knows about identifying with love over limitation. So she’s teaching heart-meditation.
You’re intrigued, right? Of course you are!
Because hello, how is that not fascinating? Without knowing anything else about her, I was already one of her Right People just from that bio. Sold! Tell me more about your pet kangaroo.
An example for point four (but if there were, you could make the boring work for you, baby).
A year or so ago, through a series of excellent coincidences, I was eating crepes (crepes!) with Shannon.
We had a conversation that went kind of like this:
Shannon: There’s nothing to biggify about me because I’m boring. Boring boring life coach. Boring.
Me: Ohmygod. That’s a great angle. You should go with it.
Shannon: No, I’m serious.
Me: Right. So am I. You should brand yourself as That One Really Really Boring Life Coach. No, the Boring, Irrelevant Life Coach. I love it!
Shannon: ?!?!
Me: And all your material should be like, this will not be even slightly interesting, because I am a supremely dull human being, but we will completely fix your problems because life coaching works — even though it’s really boring. See? Like that.
Shannon: Yeah! You don’t get boringness and irrelevancy of this caliber for nothing.
Me: Right! You could print business cards that say, Bored yet? You should be.
Shannon: Ooh! And my logo could be someone yawning extravagantly. Tagline: ‘lulling people to sleep with my lack of personality since 1997!’
Here’s the thing. Shannon is a kick in the pants. I love her.
But you know how it is. She forgot that she’s a kick in the pants.
And my theory is that once she remembered (i.e. once she’d given herself permission to not have to be brilliant and kooky) she started putting more of herself into her business.
And then amazing things started to happen. She fired her internal critic (“that crazy bastard has been replaced!”) and hired her dead uncle to take his place.
And now she’s kicking ass.
What I think happens.
People get it in their heads that they have to be all interesting.
And the pressure to be interesting makes them freeze up.
So that they can’t recognize what’s interesting. Or remember that it exists. Or access it. Or trust it.
Or trust that it’s okay to get geekily excited about things. Or to never get excited about things.
Or to speak in your own voice***, whatever that is, and know that — for someone out there — what you have to say has strength and meaning. And power.
***This has its own scary. And we can get caught up in the fear of what if someone reads what I wrote and hey, I’m not an expert, and uh oh I don’t want to be vulnerable.
These are all legitimately scary things and I don’t at all mean to imply that they’re not.
Dude. Scones in a tube! Pet kangaroo!
Not everyone is going to get all enthused about the stuff that you care about.
But if you care about it and talk about it, your Right People will be all yes yes yes tell me more.
And it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks because ohmygod scones in a tube.
Comment zen:
We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. You know how it is.
And all this biggification stuff is trigger-ey. So hugs all around for the hard.