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 #22: holiday list. Not mine.
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: the zone (again!)
Here’s what I want:
To move through some of the fog.
To deal with some uncomfortable situations.
To trust myself and go with what I know.
Ways this could work:
Crazy shivanautical epiphanies from doing Dance of Shiva.
Remembering to stop working. A lot.
Long walks. Insights on long walks. Or in the shower.
Remembering to follow my own advice.
My commitment.
Doing the best I can.
Thing 2: Sovereignty, baby.
Here’s what I want:
The short explanation of the sovereignty thing is not giving a damn what other people think because you’re owning your space, your body, your life.
The short version of the situation I’m in right now is that two people owe me a chunk of money, and they don’t seem to want to do anything about it.
So what I want is to get better at standing up for myself and being really firm and clear about what needs to happen.
But while not getting sucked into bitter/angry/depressed mode.
And I want these two situations to get sorted with ease. And a simple resolution that doesn’t piss me off. Would be nice.
Ways this could happen:
I’m open to perfect, simple solutions.
I’d like a big, crazy dose of the sovereignty stuff (or to get better at connecting to it).
Basically, something that can shift this pattern of feeling sorry for the other person involved to the point that I don’t take care of myself.
Also, a holiday could be nice.
My commitment.
To give a clear ask with a clear deadline. And to be strong.
To pay attention. To call a time out for myself when I need it.
To stop and regroup. To give myself full permission to not like things the way they are right now.
Thing 3: HOLIDAY LIST!
Oh yes.
I was going to write a whole post about businesses I support.
Because if people are going to be getting stuff for the holidays anyway, they might as well know about businesses that are Havi-approved as being cool.
But then I didn’t.
So I’m writing a mini-personal-ad for them.
These are some of the businesses I’d love to see thrive this year. My sincere hope is to see them biggify in a safe, comfortable, enjoyable way. Yes, that is my wish.
And if you’re looking for cool stuff? This is the place. Yay.
Best. Socks. Ever.
Oh, I am a fan. Sock Dreams.
Portland company, woman-owned, completely awesome. This is where I buy fansocks for people I admire.
Sovereignty spray.
And Healthy Boundaries. These crazy, wonderful sprays from Deborah are weird and fabulous.
Love them.
Alima.
I’m not such a huge make-up person (surprise!) but I am mad about this company.
No chemicals, all gorgeous, they recycle. And they’re in Portland. So they’re also shockingly nice. Sparkly!
Yarny-ness.
I already talk about Tara the blonde chicken all the damn time so there isn’t much else to say.
Other than my god have you seen her yarn? She makes it. I know! Plus now she has the Learn to Knit kit so really, there’s no excuse. How are you going to make me fansocks if you don’t learn to knit?!
Necklaces.
I love this typewriter necklace from Insane Jellyfish Designs (who made my beautiful Pirate Queen chain).
And there are totally great lockets from Locket 2 You (look at the elephant on the bicycle!)
Wonderful body things.
I get Lisa’s magical salts for soaking.
And am in love with creamy, healthy, happy stuff from Dress Green.
Also got some good things from Aquarian Bath.
And I know Heidi will be biggifying this year with her excellent Aardvark potions (I’ve gotten samples and they are fabulous — pay attention to her!)
Learning things.
Obviously I approve of my own Non-Sucky Yoga package. Good gift for yourself.
You can also give the gift of Wendy — tech support and wordpress stuff. Good if you’re at the start of the biggification process or know someone else who is.
Or you can learn about yourself and good ways to do stuff differently. I know lots of good coaches, and since my waiting list is a million miles long, let me recommend some people I think rock:
Re: Stuff for me.
Oh god. Please don’t get me stuff for Hannukah. I wrote about this last year.*
* Just reread this and realized I’ve repeated some recommendations. That made me smile. Guess the good stuff is still good.
But while we’re on the subject, if you must send me presents not at holiday time, you can’t go wrong with fansocks. Or supporting knitters (I approve of ball of yarn and pixie bell).
That’s it.
Also, in case you (or the FCC) are wondering, none of these people/businesses have any idea that I’m promoting them and no, I don’t get anything from them in return.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
No major updates since last time.
Let’s see. So I asked for Right People for my fabulous Destuckification Retreat, but I haven’t officially announced it yet. They’re probably waiting in the wings.
And I had an ask about not feeling bad about wanting a vanity table.
Still no table (though the gentleman friend found some excellent possibilities), but I don’t feel even slightly bad about wanting one. So in that sense, a shift. Yes.
And I talked up Tara’s Learn To Knit Kit, and a bunch of people became Blonde Chicken fans. Which is a good thing. Whew.
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.
Thanks for doing this with me!
One more thing!
So yes, I say this every week, but here’s the weird thing: I mean it.
When I say no advice, I really, truly don’t want advice. If you want to share your related story, rock on. But that’s it. Give me advice and I’ll kick you in the shins.
Friday Chicken #69: had to happen eventually
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.
Whoo. Chicken. And enthusiastic hellos to the various, Chickeneers of the High Seas, as Lucy says.
Also, every once in a while someone reminds me that it can be kind of intimidating to join the mad rush of Chicken comments. So I just wanted to say that you are loved and adored whether you comment or not.
And that the people here are just about the loveliest ever, so wander in if/when you feel like it and it will be beautiful.
The hard stuff
Still working too hard.
Especially since this year I’m trying to plan the whole year out in advance, instead of my usual let’s see what happens wheeeee kind of thing.
Too much. Ow.
Feeling deflated.
This is related to the “too much” part.
Ugh.
Understanding the effects of terrible decisions.
It sucks.
Feeling vulnerable and not trusting.
Sites being down on and off all week.
Completely fist-shakingly frustrating.
American Thanksgiving this week.
What can I say, I just don’t like it.
Me, reading the New Yorker: “Man, these people will not shut up about loving Thanksgiving. Where are all the people who don’t like Thanksgiving? Where are my people?”
My gentleman friend: “Come on. It’s not that you don’t like Thanksgiving. You just don’t like people.”
Either way.*
*CIarification: I do like the nice people who invite me to Thanksgiving. I just don’t do well with Thanksgiving itself.
The good stuff
Giving myself permission to skip Thanksgiving.
That was good.
Oh, the sweet people in my life.
Last week was so full of horribleness.
And so many people wrote sweet letters and sent cards to tell me about how reading this blog has done crazy, wonderful things for their lives.
It was amazing.
Usually Selma gets all the fan mail, and then people are all oh, hi Havi. Which is fine. I mean, she is the cute one.
But it was just so sweet to encounter this overflowing mailbox of thank-you-ness.
And Char sent the most lovely care package ever, and I feel completely … cared for. Awesome. Thank you!
Sites working again.
My Kitchen Table people were very kind and considerate about containing their freaking-out while the Table forum environment went down during our tech crisis.
And they were pretty hilarious when it went back up again.
Since, if you listen to them, they’d apparently all been rocking back and forth in a corner sucking their thumbs waiting desperately for it to come back.
You know you run a cool place online when people say things like this after it disappears for a day:
Oh, massive sighs of relief and joy! Now for a big slurp of Kitchen Table moonshine to quell the jitters and DTs of not being bathed in loverly smartnesses and ninjas and hookers and chocolate cake-fights.
It really was awful to have a day of things Not Working, and I was suffering mad withdrawal too, but seeing how over-the-top happy everyone was when it came back?
Nice!
The smaller pirate ship runs way better.
And between First Mate Marissa helping to keep everything running smoothly and Tech Pirate Charlotte trying to figure out the stuck bits, I am feeling reassured.
The most hilarious class ever.
We were going to have Mark teach a class for my Kitchen Table people this week. About combining heart with biggification.
Except that we had a scheduling mix-up.
And since I don’t have anything to say about heart in business, I taught a class on Sexiness In Business.
And it was awesome.
We got into a huge cake fight in the chatroom, and there was extreme silliness. It’s these totally fun moments with my rightest Right People that make everything good.
Furnishings?
Okay, so it’s true that I don’t really like furniture. And that I do really, really, really like open spaces.
But it’s also true that I have been avoiding treating Hoppy House like it is my real home.
Even though we have been here for a year and a week now. Remember?
Ah. Hiro pointed out some Extremely Smart And Useful Things about this.
And Colleen infused me with some of her obsessive nesting thing while she was staying with us.
And so I bought a rug. Rug! And a (non-piratey) chest. Of drawers. And a new ginormous mirror for Shiva-ing it up.
Slowly slowly.
Did some stuff I’ve been avoiding.
Mostly taking-care-of-the-pirate-ship stuff.
Fixed a bunch of wee mistake-ies.
And revised the error 404 page. Which you won’t be able to see until the next time I screw up a link. Wait, I can do that right now. Here’s my non-existent page about bunnies.
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’s band is … wait for it ….
Chopped Leverage.
And yes. It’s just one guy.
The sad bit is there are no Stuisms this week. I mean, there are Stuisms but I have a little filing crisis that needs to be dealt with first. Next Chicken.
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.
77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck: 2009
I did this last year on American Thanksgiving too (tradition!) so here’s the short explanation.
This is my Ungratitude Game. Also known as the Lentil Game.
Okay. But that was a terrible explanation. So more explaining!
Things I do not really like:
- forced gratitude.
- being told I need to count my blessings.
- people needing me to like Thanksgiving as much as they do.
Things I do like:
- the lentil game.
- the happy fuzzy feeling that you get when you remember the good stuff*.
- acknowledging the hard (or at least the existence of hard) along with the good, like we do on the Chicken, because otherwise you end up pretending the hard doesn’t mean anything, and it does.
* Yes, I know there’s a word for that. I still call it the Ungratitude Game though.
The lentil game. And a caveat.
You have a bowl full of lentils. Or something small and countable that aren’t lentils. The lentil part isn’t important. The first time I did this there were seventy seven lentils. So that’s how many I’m stuck with.
Luckily, you can do something easy. Like eight pieces of macaroni. I won’t tell.
Anyway. Each thing that doesn’t completely suck gets to jump over to a different bowl. When the first bowl is empty, you feel better. It’s weird, but it works.
Of course, I always forget the really important things anyway. Like olives. Mmmm. Olives. And being (mostly) healthy. And the fact that we have this crazy, wonderful place online.
But it doesn’t remember if you get all the good stuff. It’s practicing.
Havi’s list of 77 Things That Don’t Completely Suck
In no particular order …
- Lilies. Big, gorgeous orange and red lilies. In my kitchen.
- Eating soup in a cheery orange bowl.
- Sitting on the window seat looking out at the garden.
- Roller Derby! This is always something that doesn’t suck, but now that Selma and I are sponsoring Guns N Rollers, it’s even better. Shivanauts FTW!
- Speaking of Shivanauts … the mad brain-zapping wonder that is Dance of Shiva and all the crazy epiphany sparklets that go along with that.
- Chimayo chilies that we brought back from New Mexico.
- New Mexico!
- Selma the duck. My partner and my familiar.
- Selma’s gorgeous wardrobe of hand-knit scarves from her cult following of knitters.
- My email sabbatical — the thing that allows me to do my job without burning out or getting resentful.
- My First Mate Marissa who makes being on email sabbatical possible.
- The wonderful Cairene who first helped me to understand that my business is a pirate ship.
- My new pirate queen necklace that Erin from Insane Jellyfish made for me and that I never want to take off.
- And the Bay Area contingency of my Kitchen Table program, who all chipped in to buy me a fabulous pirate queen outfit, that they gave me at a dinner when I came to San Francisco to teach a workshop this summer.
- Really, everything about the Kitchen Table. One of the best things I’ve ever brought into the world.
- The Portland Mercury. Ah, reliable snark in weekly doses.
- Also, courtesy of the Mercury, the phrase “our dreamboat President”.
- Our dreamboat President.
- The quality (and concept) of Sovereignty.
- Roasting jerusalem artichokes that come from our garden. Serving with the yogurt my gentleman friend made, the bread that I baked and the beer we brew in our basement.
- Living the way I want to live. See: above.
- My gentleman friend’s chuckle. He’s got a terrific guffaw as well, but it’s the chuckle that gets me every time. Best. Laugh. Ever.
- Sometimes — not very often, but sometimes — I can think about my friend who is dead without falling apart, and smile at memories.
- Hoppy House. I love Hoppy House.
- The rug. It really ties the room together.
- Knowing that I can quote any Coen Brothers film on this blog, without attribution, and the majority of my readers will know exactly what I’m talking about.
- Giving myself permission to not go anywhere or do anything for Thanksgiving, because I don’t feel like it, dammit.
- Oh that dammit list. How I love you.
- Brilliantly and sneakily opting out of doing either Thanksgiving or Christmas at the inlaws (aka the unlaws). Without pissing anyone off. Second year in a row. I’m thinking tradition.
- The Kindle app for the iPhone. I can take books with me wherever I go. In my pocket. It’s the future and I love it.
- The smell of bread baking.
- My pirate apron with the skull and crossbones. Another great present from the gentleman friend.
- The Friday Chickens. They might even be my favorite part of the week.
- The people in my life who always remember about the vegetarian thing and the no sugar thing.
- Support. Knowing it’s there.
- Getting my Starsky and Hutch fix at Hulu.com.
- Whole milk. From the sneaky milk co-op.
- God I love living in Portland.
- I never imagined coming back to the States, but if I’m going to be here, Portland is exactly where I want to be.
- Deborah’s weird, magic potions. Is there anything more genius (and bizarre) than a spray for healthy boundaries?
- Working from home.
- The “no computer-ing after 5 pm” rule.
- My clients and students, who are smart and kooky and make me laugh.
- People I’ve never met or even heard of … writing me letters.
- About how some concept from the blog totally changed their lives. Without taking any of my courses or buying any of my products, they have a completely different way of relating to themselves now.
- Wow.
- Snail mail. It is the happy.
- My wonderful friend, mentor and sister-in-silliness, Hiro.
- Barbara Sher. Barbara Freaking Sher. Love that woman.
- Friends.
- Like Dana.
- And Andreas.
- And Amna.
- The weird little world of being an internet rockstar. It’s like, the most random, obscure … completely ludicrous form of celebrity. And I can still go to the supermarket without being mobbed.
- Writing.
- Biggifying my writing.
- Swing dancing.
- Patsy Cline.
- Having a great massage therapist.
- Seriously. I have a knack for finding people.
- People to complain to when stuff is going ridiculously, horribly wrong.
- My business still doing well despite having made some tragic hiring choices this year.
- Painful lessons learned … and maybe the “learning painful lessons” part is over for a while. That would be nice.
- My gentleman friend makes me laugh.
- And drops everything to come with me on Emergency Vacation
- Having really great neighbors.
- Who don’t play the drums.
- Daily yoga, dependable source of comfort and support for over a decade.
- Even though there are lots of things that I’m not feeling grateful for right now — some of which I’m even feeling seriously upset and resentful about — I’m glad that I have room in me for a variety of feelings and emotions.
- Permission to be human.
- Every once in a while I remember to give that permission to myself.
- Plans.
- Possibility.
- Being here right now.
- You.
- I’m so glad you’re here.
- Thank you.
Also: olives.
Item! And everything!
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.
Ha. It really is Wednesday this time. Not even faking it.
Though I do find it extremely reassuring that I can channel the essence of Wednesday pretty much whenever I want, just by Itemizing.
Item! Post No. 42 in a series that might possibly be tangentially related to … life, the universe and everything. We’ll see. 42!
Item! Paint your walls with ideas.
Mark turned me on to this.
I want.
I mean, look at it.
He’s @MarkHeartOfBiz on Twitter.
Item! People horrified to say what they actually do.
Speaking as someone who dreads being asked what she does*, it was just wonderful to read this perfect, perfect Onion piece about that very thing happening to someone who does something way more depressing than what I do.
Except when it’s way worse funnier when it what people do is incredibly depressing and somehow they’ve never realized that.
“Increasingly Horrified Man Listens To Self Explain What He Does For A Living”
It’s incredibly sad and hysterically funny.
* Oof. Why does it matter what I do? I make a very good living doing it and it involves a duck. I refuse to say anymore!
Item! This is a classy About page.
It’s hard not to like someone whose surname is Lightheart.
Andrew is great.
And his new about page? Even better. Also he wrote a post about chipmunks thinking he’s fat.
“I’m not an expert. I do however have a deep interest in conflict and crisis and how we deal with it, and how we can not be controlled by our biology and our programming and stuff.
I’m just some guy in a t-shirt with a cat who spends his days teaching presentation skills (in a suit, without the cat) but who hopefully will come up with some useful stuff as things go on.”
Love. It.
He’s @alightheart on Twitter. Of course he is!
Item! A Gladwellian moment of fabulousness.
Huge Malcolm Gladwell fan, obviously.
This Vanity Fair parody piece is the best thing in the entire world.
“On every accepted level, Santa Claus is a total loser.
Yet this is a man who heads up a brand that commands 98 percent global recognition. Furthermore, he is universally adored.”
Thank you, Twitter. I wish I remember who pointed me here.
Item! Wonderful things to say (or not) at Thanksgiving.
A sweet, pretty post from Lydia at the Clueless Crafter blog with excellent quotes from Elsa Maxwell on the Art of Lively Entertaining.
“I make enemies deliberately. They are the sauce piquante to my dish of life.”
Also, Lydia wishes you a supreme gustatory gathering. If that doesn’t make you happy, I don’t know what will.
She’s @cluelesscrafter on Twitter.
Item! The world’s first live mashup rock band!
Just look at them.
That picture makes me way too happy.
So yes. The world’s first live mashup rock band.
Of course, I’m dying to say … it’s just one guy. But yeah, not true. So I’ll wait until Friday to say that.
Heard about this from one of my hugest Twitter-crushes who is the ever-fabulous @sfslim.
Item! So you’re probably wondering who my Twitter addictions are.
That’s why I made a list.
There’s lots of people I follow. Lots of people I madly adore. These are the ones I’d have to take with me to the desert island, if you could bring Twitter to a desert island. Please say that’s possible.
Come on in, boys and girls. The water is fine. I’m @havi and I’ll buy you a drink. Made out of a kazoo.
Item! Writers deserve to get paid, people.
Ever since hearing Barbara Sher‘s excellent rant about how your message is really anything that makes you raise your voice, I have been paying attention.
And this bit from Harlan Ellison is a Message with a Capital-M. That’s some quality upset-ness. And quality conviction.
It’s a controversial topic. And he’s not even slightly apologetic about where he stands on it.
And I think that is marvelous.
Go take three glorious minutes to watch it and cheer. Because that is a man who believes in something and needs you to know about it.
Found this via the excellent (but extremely private) @harlemwriter on Twitter. Tell him I said he’s cool.
Item! Are you in San Francisco and do you have a thing?
Robert Friedman teaches occasional classes at the SBA on “branding”.
This is something I thought was really, really gross until I took one of his classes, about three years ago.
Okay, I still think the word is gross, but I got a lot of good stuff. And perspective.
More specifically, I went in there thinking ew ew ew, and came out thinking that my business can be fabulous and sexy. Big turning point.
Plus that was where I met my friend Lisa, which, as I keep telling you guys, is the best reason to go to retreats and take classes and stuff.*
*Not because you’ll meet my friend Lisa, but because you will make life-changingly great connections.
Anyway, Robert is teaching his Build a Strong Consulting Brand class on December 1st at the San Francisco SBA and it doesn’t cost anything.
If you’re doing anything small-business-ey or vaguely entrepreneurial in the Bay Area, do it. Go!
Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
Why you can totally dislike Dance of Shiva and still be one of my Right People.
Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- Something fun to do while not doing Thanksgiving tomorrow.
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. It’s American Thanksgiving, so Selma and I will be doing our (now annual) List Of Things That Don’t Completely Suck. Good times.
The lost art of not jumping.
In which a stuckness shows up and doesn’t want to do the thing it thinks I want it to do.
I was having an uh oh moment about my New Big Thing. And called Hiro to ramble incoherently about the stuckness.
Me: It’s like I don’t want to put it out in the world yet. I love it. It’s beautiful. And there is something there that is just… not ready.
Hiro: You mean Biggification 2010?
Me: Uh huh. And even my schedule for the year, which is part of that.
Hiro: If you’re looking at your New Big Thing, where is it?
Me (in my head): How would I possibly know that?
Pause.
Me: Oh. It’s standing on a diving board, over a pool.
Hiro: Good.
Me: And it really, really, really does not want to jump. And I’m not going to make it jump because ohmygod look how much it doesn’t want to jump.
In which I get to marvel — again — at the power of giving something permission to be the way it is.
Hiro: How old is it?
Me (sounding extremely sure of myself, which weirds me out again): Seven.
Hiro: Who says it has to jump?
Me: I don’t know. It’s right there on the diving board.
Hiro: Does it even want to be in the water?
Me: Oh, it definitely wants to be in the water. It just doesn’t want to have to jump in order to get in there.
It wants to be in the water. It just doesn’t want to have to jump in order to get in there.
Hiro: Good.
Me: Oh. Of course. It doesn’t have to jump.
In which we find out what this thing needs.
Hiro: You’re right, it definitely doesn’t have to jump. So what would be the easiest, simplest, most comfortable way for it to find its way into the water? A ramp? Does it want to be floated in?
Me: Stairs. But not a cold, metal ladder. Big, wide stairs.
Hiro: Into the shallow end?
Me: Sure. It doesn’t even really matter. It loves being in water. Just not jumping. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.
Hiro: What else does it need? Friends in the water who are waiting for it?
Me: I don’t know. What if the friends … what if they don’t think jumping from a diving board is such a big deal?
Hiro: Oh, definitely only friends who also hate jumping.
Me: Oh good. Okay. Friends. Who hate jumping. I love it.
Hiro: What else is going to help it feel safe and supported? Water wings?
Me: No, I don’t think so. But knowing that they’re there could be good. Or a board or something that it doesn’t have to use. Just as an option.
Hiro: Okay!
In which we find out what I need.
Hiro: And where are you in relation to your thing? Are you in the water? At the pool? Observing?
Me: I’m there, but I’m not. I’m in my own pool. It’s darker, warmer, higher up, quieter.
Hiro: And how are these pools connected?
Me: Through a current. It’s humming.
Hiro: So you can communicate with the other pool?
Me: I think so.
Hiro (giggling): Like, you yell “Helloooooooooooo there? How are you doing over there in your poooooooooooool?”
Me: Exactly! Just like that.
Hiro: What is your role in this space?
Me: To enjoy it. To enjoy the things that come from it. To practice the sovereignty thing. To give myself permission to be playful and ridiculous, instead of having to be mature all the time and do the right thing, whatever I think that is.
In which things turn silly.
Oh yes.
There was a kooky magical non-even-slightly-cheesy waterfall.
We threw a fabulous birthday party for my New Big Thing where there were insanely great presents.
Like a water tricycle. And a slackline. And floating lanterns. And pool noodles! Lots and lots of pool noodles!
Hiro said all sorts of wise, insightful, weird, hilarious things that were all completely compassionate and non-judge-ey. No big surprise there. She’s wonderful.
She talked about grace, rhythm, timing and flow. About possibility. And spaciousness. And ease.
And I got to give my New Big Thing reassurance that things don’t have to be forced. That things can happen with this quality of ease.*
We talked about snowflakes and doors. And all sorts of other things that don’t have to do with jumping.
* Usually I have crazy resistance to this concept — my instinctive reaction is: “Ease? Jews don’t do that!” But for some reason I found it really comforting this time.
In which I internalize a bunch of stuff I thought I already knew.
It’s amazing how good it feels to have permission to not do things the painful way.
But permission is something that is so much easier to give to someone else. Or, at least, that’s my experience.
And sometimes other people think that the best thing for us is doing something the hurting way, and so they force something painful. They think it’s for our own good. And then we turn around and do it to ourselves.
Which is so completely tragic that I don’t even know what to say.
I’ve also learned this:
The thing I’ve created for this coming year is sometimes a seven year old who knows a lot about a lot.
Its best qualities come out when it has permission to do things its own way. It’s happy. It has a sweet, playful, goofy spirit and a fierce power all its own.
And my commitment is to love it.
To care for it. To give it room. To appreciate how cool it is. To take away shoulds. To give it permission to have fear. To give it permission to need stuff.
To not have to do anything the conventional way.
And to do all that for myself too. When I can.
Comment zen for today.
So I know some of you have great stories about how someone forced you to jump and it really was all for the best and you totally conquered your fear and yay.
I really do recognize the power of those stories, and that they need to be heard — and this moment of today and now and here is not their time.
Today is about permission to take something intimidating and not have to do it that way. It’s about the sovereignty thing that happens when you choose not to do things the hard way.
It’s about finding comfort and support when you need it, and having permission to want and need those qualities in your life.
Because we’re creating an environment that includes, among many other (sometimes contradictory) things, permission not to have to jump — and that’s where we are.