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 #15: in search of the zing
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 this thing.
Thing 1: the writing project that is on my mind
Here’s what I want:
I have an idea (and a page or two of scribbled notes) for a weekly series of blog posts.
About the relationship between biggification and sovereignty. Sovereignty in business.
What I want is a sexy title. Because the thing with sovereignty is that when you know what it is, it’s so hot you can hardly stand it.
But as a word? By itself? It doesn’t have that same zing. I need the zing.
I also want reassurance (mostly from me) that this will be fun, that I’m going to stick with it for however long it takes and that it won’t turn into a big, horrible energy-suck.
And also (mostly from you) that this is an interesting, useful topic for people who do not happen to be me.
Here’s how I want this to work:
The right title could come to me.
Or someone could make a fabulous suggestion in the comments.
Or I could do some Shiva Nata on it and get a mini-epiphany or two.
I can spend time with my gentleman friend going over what types of things I want to cover and what order makes the most sense.
I can agree to let it percolate for a while.
Maybe I’ll just know.
My commitment.
To have fun with this. To take my time. To ask for help. To sleep on it and meditate on it and Shiva-it-up.
Thing 2: a smooth landing from Extremely Necessary Vacation
Here’s what I want:
So my Extremely Necessary Vacation is already over. I’m teaching my first class tomorrow (for the Kitchen Table). Back to life as usual.
Which is totally a good thing, yes?
But what I’d really like is some smooth sailing. A happy landing. An ease of transition.
Here’s how I want this to work:
I want to be able to give myself time (and permission!) to take things slowly.
To resist the urge to throw myself headlong into whatever chaos has developed while being gone.
To be patient with myself.
My commitment.
To work on trusting this thing. To notice what I need. To ask for what I need.
To pay attention to when I start pushing myself.
To be easy on myself about not being able to be easy on myself. Or at least to try.
Thing 3: maintaining connection with my body
Remember two weeks ago when my ask was about spending more time in my body?
Well, Extremely Necessary Vacation has been the best thing for that ever.
I went from barely remembering what it was like to have a daily routine to having it again.
Waking up early, doing 45 minutes of yoga, going for a walk in the morning. Dancing in the evenings. It feels so good.
I find myself going back and forth between “Oh, how I want to be able to keep some of this up” and “There’s no way this is going to work!”
Here’s what I want:
To be able to stay with the memory of how happy I feel when I’m in my body and using it.
To be gentle with myself.
To allow myself small steps.
To sign up for more dance classes.
Ways this could work:
I don’t really know. And I don’t want suggestions or advice.
I just want to put the ask out there and let it do its thing.
My commitment.
To meet myself where I am. To appreciate the good bits and acknowledge the hard ones. To give myself time.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
To update you on what’s happened since last time.
Thing 1: I needed a way to distinguish between short-term events and long-term programs in my navigation. Came up with the answer later that day. Events will remain “events”, and I’ll be putting up a page soon-ish called Biggification 2010.
Excellent.
Thing 2: I needed my stupid FAQ page to write itself already. So I took my own advice and wrote it (it’s here!) while writing a post about what was keeping me from writing it. Totally worked.
And Thing 3 was about clarity. I’ve been getting crazy amounts of that too.
Actually, I have to say that this was probably one of the most astonishingly effective Very Personal Ad pieces ever, because all three things were taken care of almost immediately. Weird!
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.
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 #62: deodorant brandy edition
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
I’m sad to report that Deodorant Brandy is not our fake band of the week. Though it really should be. Alas.
Anyway, still on Extremely Necessary Vacation. Which is almost over. That’s pretty much the gist of the Chicken.
The hard stuff
Stress.
Awful, awful guiltified stress. A lot of which is just in my head. And some of which is residual guilt about going on Extremely Necessary Vacation in the first place.
My stuff. Hi.
But man.
Too many stupid little things adding to my stress.
First I forgot to pay some phone bills because I haven’t had access to my calendar.
The bookmark in my toolbar that was supposed to remind me to pay something else just up and disappeared.
Then my landlady cashed the October rent check a few days before the first of the month, which is the date I was planning on.
Ugh. Charges and fees and overdrafts and worries and annoyances. Do. Not. Like.
Ever had deodorant-flavoured brandy?
Because I have.
This one isn’t so much a “hard” as a “weird”. Luckily (though is that really the right word when discussing deodorant brandy?) it was the crystal mineral kind and not the gooey stick of chemicals kind.
And no, the deodorant did not belong to me. And no, I’m not going into details.
But you know what would be awesome? Brandy-flavoured deodorant. Now that is something I would pay for.
Not wanting Extremely Necessary Vacation to end.
Though all things do. I’m back to work on Monday.
The good stuff
VACATION!
I kind of can’t believe this but I’m still on Extremely Necessary Vacation, which is now turning into I Love This Vacation Thing So Much Vacation.
Being on holiday suits me. Oh yes.
Also, this is the longest vacation I’ve ever had. By a lot. Though really it’s only the second vacation I’ve ever had, if you don’t count being unemployed, broke and terrified. Which I don’t.
Anyway, it is so ridiculously healthy, despite all the worries I manage to bring along. I think I’m actually going to uh, plan one this year, so I don’t end up taking Emergency Vacations instead. Revolutionary!
You know what else is magical about vacation?
It makes you want to work.
Well, it makes me want to work.
Once I really started working through the burnout, all my enthusiasm for the meaning of my work came flooding back in.
Passion. And drive. I’ve been seriously missing these things. Yay.
Relaxation. It’s like, good for you.
I know, I know. Not so good at practicing what I preach.
(Oh how I love that there were about twenty things I could have linked to there — also tempted to mention this and this too.)
But it’s amazing.
I look in the mirror and I think, wow … so THIS is what I look like without bags under my eyes. And when I get exercise outdoors.
Turns out that not working makes me much better looking.
Stuff being outrageously beautiful.
I’ve honestly seen more rainbows on this Extremely Necessary Vacation than in my whole life. Also gorgeous skies and beautiful sunrises and ridiculously adorable cavorting dolphins.
Now, admittedly, normally these would be the kind of cheesy, embarrassing vacation-symbols that would send me into Extremely Sarcastic Mode, but I have to say …
Nope. It’s just really, really beautiful.
I took a tap dancing class!
That’s mostly notable because the fact that I did it surprised the hell out of me.
I also really enjoyed myself, which was pretty surprising too.
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 must introduce you to:
Irresponsible Cream
I got the idea from Alicia who suggested (in last week’s Chicken) pumpkin and leek soup with Irresponsible Cream. I love Irresponsible Cream! Clearly … it’s just one guy.
And … STUISMS of the week.
Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.
- Gods and only God gajillion instead of “ohmygod Jillian!”
- except that just permeates so much heroin instead of “except that for me it’s so much harder”
- the okay horse and this orator instead of “the chaos and the disorder”
- That Site is funny via the feared big hug instead of “so I just want to give you a big hug”
- bad chick daisy instead of “batshit crazy”
- milking the rounds instead of “making demands”
- justify the bye instead of “it’s just one guy”
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 CEO with the stripey socks (part 1)
So the big theme of my Extremely Necessary Vacation has been sovereignty.
That’s the very useful word I picked up from my dear friend Hiro and it refers to oh, pretty much everything I’m working on right now.
Namely:
- not caring so much about what other people think
- not caving in to other people’s expectations
- being able to rest in the safety that comes from knowing that my space, my body, my energy and my life belong to me
- remembering that these things will always belong to me because guess what? I get to be the queen of my fabulous pirate-ey queendom.
The signifiers of owning your power.
Anyway. Back to Extremely Necessary Vacation.
My gentleman friend and I were having a long talk about my business and where it’s going. Yes, vacation vacation, but come on. There’s really no better place to talk business than in a hot tub.
And I was wondering out loud what the signifiers of owning your own power would be.
In other words, if I want to start thinking about my company in a more biggified way, it seems as though there need to be things that help me actively step into that mindset.
But the traditional serious business signifiers (briefcases? shoulder pads? golf clubs?) are so completely not my thing.
My thing is to keep on being the mad pirate queen. The Chief Eccentricity Officer! I want to wear braids! And stripey socks. And to go everywhere accompanied by a duck. Wait, I already do all of that.
So how do I biggify confidently and … out loud, without compromising the part about doing it my way?
And my gentleman friend looked at me and said: “What about asking for what you want?”
What about asking for what you want?
Hold on a second while I process that.
Me: Haenh?!* What are you talking about?
My gentleman friend: You’re saying that physical signifiers aren’t going to work for you. That this is more about an internal shift.
Me: Right … and?
My gentleman friend: So … what if you approached every single interaction you have with the question, ‘how am I going to comfortably and confidently ask for what I want?’, knowing that your … sovereignty thing doesn’t diminish their uh, sovereignty thing?
Me: Whoah.
*See translation here.
Putting the “sovereignty thing” into perspective.
One of the biggest things that keeps me from experiencing this … sovereignty thing is my stuckified fear that somehow me owning my own life will be uncomfortable for other people.
Then I remembered this bit from the Mishnah:
Bishvili nivra ha’olam. For me the world was created.
For me. But also for you. And also for everyone else in the world.
So … the principle is this: someone acting in sovereignty doesn’t need to step on or challenge anyone else’s sovereignty.
As in, I am the queen of my personal queendom just as you get to rule yours. My sense of “this space is safe for me” does not mean that I stop respecting yours.
Or: this sovereignty is a cool freaking thing and I’m going to care for it and love it.
The short version:
- No one else gets diminished by you standing in your own light.
- When you act out of sovereignty, the result is always gracious because you’re respecting both your own space and that of the person you’re interacting with.
- The more sovereignty each person has and experiences, the more everyone gets.
The cool part.
I have to save this for next time.
But I spent a week of my Extremely Necessary Vacation working on one small thing. A small thing that has to do with practicing being in sovereignty.
Every night. For six nights. And I took notes.
Which is good, because I was pretty terrible at it.
Anyway, tomorrow is the Friday Chicken (yay!) and Sunday I’m posting my Very Personal Ad for the week. But on Monday I’ll share the results of my six days of sovereignty practice, and where I’m going with that.
Comment zen for today …
What I would love: thoughts, musings, reactions related to the stuff I’m talking about and the sovereignty thing in general. What I’d rather not have: to have my stuff judged or psychoanalyzed, advice.
Thanks for being in this with me!
You know what I’m terrible at?
Right. That too.
But specifically writing FAQs. Honestly. You have no idea how much I dislike it.
This was actually “supposed to be” the post where I announce that I finally have one (three years after I decided I needed one) … but it’s already turning into the post where I talk about why I can’t write them.
Why I can’t get away with not having one, but still can’t actually write one.
I get asked a lot of questions, you know?
A lot. When I still did email, it kind of felt like I was drowning in them.
And now that I don’t do email, these questions go to my First Mate. And even though she’s speedy and brilliant, paying someone (and extremely well) to answer email adds up. And anyway, it’s probably not always the best use of her time and big crazy talents.
So writing a Frequently Asked Questions page seemed like the smart thing to do
And not just because of the whole answering-people’s-questions thing.
It’s because of my philosophy of web pages …
I firmly believe that all web pages have two purposes:
- They help your Right People fall even more in love with you (while serving as a red velvet rope to keep the not-right people safely out of your orbit).
- They save you time and money by reducing administrative crap.
So yeah, it seemed like a FAQ could do that.
Except it wouldn’t. Because I couldn’t write it.
Too much hard! I was on board with Reason #2, but #1 just wasn’t working. I couldn’t access my voice. I couldn’t sound like me.
And even though I’ve written posts about uh, how to write a FAQ, nothing seemed to work.
So, to find out exactly what the things were that kept getting in the way, I had to start paying attention to some of the hardnesses. Here’s what came up on the road to destuckifying the FAQ-writing.
Some of the hardnesses.
Reminders of past thrown shoes.
A number of past questions have been delivered at high speed in the form of enormous shoes.
And even though there won’t be any of those in the FAQ, figuring out what did need to go in involved remembering some of those shoes.
And along with those memories, a lot of old, unresolved bitterness floated up — all that lovely leftover gunk.
Contemplating those old questions (even some of the ones which weren’t shoes) brought back the same overwhelming feelings that resulted in my having gone on email sabbatical in the first place.
The “Here is my the history of my life in ten pages, can you fix all my problems in your response please?” questions — questions that are about the pain that people have, questions which trigger my deep desire to be of service.
I’ve learned the lesson (and paid for it) about needing to take care of myself to be able to really help my people, but yeah, there was a lot of pain for me in this (cough, useful) experience.
Bringing all of this old pain into right now, into a moment where I can see it for what it is, is a huge part of what I’ve been working on during my Extremely Necessary Vacation.
Saying no. Ugh.
I’ve been working on this one for a while now. And even though I’m a lot better at it, I still really don’t like saying no.
And since the FAQ is all about answering questions that get asked all the time, and since the answer to most of those questions is a resounding NO … oh boy, extra-discomfort!
Can I –? No. Would you — ? No. Can I –? No. What about — ? No. But if I — ? No.
I do not like giving the short, snippy NO. I also don’t like giving the NO that comes most easily to me, which is a long, rambling, apologetic, explain-ey NO.
Of course I know (and will write more about this soon) that when you’re in sovereignty and therefore not worrying so much about how everyone receives your NO, it’s much easier to give a firm but gracious one.
That’s the NO that ends up being the best thing for everyone involved. The one where you’re respecting the other person’s needs and they’re respecting your NO.
It’s hard enough to write a NO-filled FAQ without having to work on my sovereignty stuff at the same time, so that’s probably a part of this too.
Fear.
My big fear right now is saying things which are true but might sound snobby.
What I’m trying to do is explain my need to respect my capacity, because (as I keep learning) that’s how I stay mostly sane. And that’s why, for example, I can’t hang out with everyone who comes to Portland and wants to spend time with me.
So I wanted to explain that if one of my clients or someone from the Kitchen Table or one of the regular Friday Chickeners comes to PDX I’ll happily have a non-caffeinated beverage with them — but otherwise, probably not.
The reality is that I only have so much time to spare, and it’s easier to make room for people I already know well and really care about. But the way it comes across is “I’m not going to talk to you unless you pay me or spend all your time in my world”. Ew.
This is the sovereignty stuff — again. When I trust myself and know that I get to be the queen of my fabulous queendom, I can communicate a NO so that no one is going to get hurt. And if their stuff does come up, I can handle it.
When I’m not in sovereignty, I worry so much about what other people will think of me that I agonize over this stuff — which means that everyone else does too.
I couldn’t come up with a title.
That’s because FAQs are boring. Also, there is pretty much nothing creative you can do with FAQ.
Aside from things like “What the FAQ do I know” and “As a matter of FAQ” which have already been done are stupid.
Plus, they send me off on tangents with the potential to turn the entire FAQ into a rambling, chaotic disaster. Like this:
Why would anyone say “as a matter of FAQ”? Seriously. What’s wrong with you?
You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.
Sometimes I get really tangled up with the idea that the word FAQ is just one of those weird internet-ey words that had become ubiquitous before people with common sense could to say, “Hey, stop the madness. That’s just wrong.”
Like podcast. Or
verbingusing non-verb-ey words as verbs. Ew.Not that I’m not a fan of excessive
nerdplaywordplay because I am.Anyway, I just googled it to see if “as a matter of FAQ” is a thing but it’s really only a thing at a bank in West Virginia. And let me tell you, their FAQ page is full of fabulousness:
Q: Can I have more than one checking account linked to the ______ Bank?
A: Yes. You can link all of your checking accounts to the ______ Bank. As a matter of FAQ (get it, fact?),you can link each and every one of the available account [sic] to the ______ Bank.
Things like this make me pause to wonder what took place behind the scenes in order for this piece of wonderful to come to be. This is how I imagine it:
Guy from middle management: “Corporate says we need to insert a humanizing touch! What should we do?”
Another suit who is also in the room: “Get Bob in Sales to make a joke and then we’ll use it but we’ll tell people it’s a joke so they’ll get that it’s a joke, and then we’ll repeat the thing we’d already said, and it will make our FAQ longer and more human-er.”
But I hope what actually happened was that they let someone’s kid write the copy and the kid was all, “I’ll show them, see?” Sneakified. Because that would be way better. Better-er.
See? This is the sort of thing that occupies my mind.
Which is why I’m not allowed to write any more answers to things. Please stop making me write answers to things! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.
But hey, I will stop being miss distractor-mouse because I wrote one.
Oh, thank goodness.
This is my FAQ. It’s right here. It also has a home now in the top navigation. Celebrate with me, please.
Well, someone pour me a drink and then I’ll collapse in a chair and hyperventilate for a while. That totally counts as celebrating, right?
Comment zen for today …
We all have stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. Patience … it is appreciated if you can spare some. xo
Your ideal family (playing with Wishcraft)
Third post in a short series …
The very, very short introduction:
- I find most self-help-ey books to be pretty insipid. At best.
- But I adore Wishcraft by Barbara Sher.
- You can download the ebook version at no cost on her website if you like.
- If you do, you’ll want to print it out so you can scribble all over it. Personally, I’d say: buy the book. Totally worth it.
- My duck and I are going through Barbara’s wacky exercises and sharing that process with you, so this is a pretty atypical blog post, but what the hell.
So far we’ve done the Five Lives exercise and the color exercise, both of which were pretty cool. You can read the comments on those for people’s beautiful (and surprising) results.
Anyway, here’s the next one.
It’s a big one.
One of my favorite exercises in the book centers on Barbara’s concept of the Ideal Family.
Barbara writes beautifully about something I have strong opinions on: the wonderful, crazy power of having someone to believe in you.
Learning how to be that person for yourself is a huge part of the destuckification process. But it’s a lot easier to remember what that feels like when you’ve had someone around to model it for you.
Barbara points out that if you’re, you know, alive, you probably didn’t grow up in an “ideal” environment.
And she defines an ideal environment as (among other things) one …
“… in which you were:
- given real help and encouragement in finding out what you wanted to do and how to do it …
- allowed to complain when the going got rough, and given sympathy instead of being told to quit …
- bailed out when you got in over your head — without reproach…”
There’s more of that kind of mind-boggling craziness in the book, but you get the point. And the point is that no, most of us don’t get to experience that.
And we need to learn to create that experience for ourselves. That’s why she has us come up with this thing called the Ideal Family.
Barbara Sher’s smart question*:
It’s actually pretty revolutionary, even though it took me a while to see it.
“It’s time to start admitting that your positive qualities really do belong to you. Like every human being, you need positive feedback from someone who’s on your side before it becomes safe to feel openly good about yourself.
“You can create an imaginary ideal family to be your private cheering section. They will tell you all the good things about you that you really know — but aren’t allowed to tell yourself!
“Take a few minutes now to think of the four or five people you would choose if you could have anyone in the world — anyone in all history and literature — as your ideal family.
“Now close your eyes and imagine that you are one of those people, and you are watching yourself come through the door. Write down all the positive qualities you see.”
*And no, I’m not the world’s biggest plagiarizing asshat for giving away her content. She lets you download the entire book for free.
The weird part.
This was another one of those exercises where I was all, yeah yeah I get it. And then when I actually did it, whoah. It blew me away with fabulousness. Tears in my eyes.
But I’d totally thought it was just going to be one of those shallow feel-good self-help-ey things. I didn’t realize it was going to go deep.
I’ll also add that this exercise fit in really well with the theme of sovereignty that I’ve been working with.
(Sovereignty in this context means: you being in charge of your body, your space, your stuff, your feelings because you are the queen of your queendom or the king of your kingdom).
Because owning your positive qualities and feeling safe being allowed to have them is a terrific expression of sovereignty.
And the big thing is that you’re only writing positive qualities. As Barbara says, “you don’t need to hear all the negative stuff for the umpteenth time”. Swoon.
Okay. My Ideal Family.
- Shiva
- Suzette Haden Elgin
- Malcolm Gladwell
- Audrey Hepburn
- Barbara Pym
- Athena
A very brain-centric list, really. Three writers, the goddess of wisdom, and — of course, let’s not forget the god of deconstruction and taking stuff apart. Who is also, interestingly, lord of the dance.
I’m not completely sure how Audrey fits in with the rest of them, but I do know that she absolutely had to be there.
(My gentleman friend chose Sam Clemens, Benjamin Franklin, Stephen J. Gould, Katherine Hepburn, Erich Kästner and Buster Keaton. How can you not adore him?)
The exercise itself:
What each member of my Ideal Family had to say about me and my positive qualities.
What Shiva said:
“Havi transforms things.
She transforms almost everything she comes into contact with. She’s not afraid of change, even though sometimes she thinks she is.
She’s a tough cookie. She’s adaptable. She knows how to change course and shift direction. She’s powerful, capable and determined.”
And Elgin?
“Havi is smart and capable. She’s compassionate and kind.
She doesn’t take crap from anyone.
She’s a Leveler and a good communicator. She’s eccentric. She’s brave. She’s a fighter. She knows how to survive.”
What about Gladwell?
“Havi is thoughtful. She’s a good writer. She is surrounded by people who care about her and about her work. She interacts with ideas in a very careful way but also with a lot of passion. She’s not gullible. She has a fine, clear mind.”
Audrey Hepburn:
“Havi is graceful and gracious.
She cares deeply about so many things. She knows how to be wonderfully silly and to really, truly have fun with life. She is completely charming. She has a good heart.”
And Barbara Pym:
“Havi notices everything. She is a good observer of life.
She engages with it passionately and has fun being alive. And she’s also very pretty.”
And Athena?
“Havi is tough, brave, strong and very, very determined. The good kind of ambitious. She’ll move mountains, that one.
In fact, she’s ready right now.”
Wow.
This is the part where I usually talk about what I’ve learned and all that stuff, but I’m still kind of in recovery mode from this exercise. Whew.
First of all, that was really, really cool.
I’m also noticing that there is a part of me (the “scientific method” part of me) that wants to do this exercise a few more times, to see if different things come up or if I react differently.
And, of course, my stuff is coming up all over the place when I think about actually posting this.
I mean, oh god. Is there anything more embarrassing than admitting out loud that — for example — I was imagining that Malcolm Freaking Gladwell would say that I’m a good writer?
So yeah. Embarrassment. Awkwardness. Discomfort.
And at the same time? I feel immensely supported to have all these people whom I so deeply admire on my side. Cheering for me. Believing in me. Impressed by me and my abilities. Even if it is just in my head.
Having them see it makes it easier for me to see it (or to consider being eventually able to see it). And that is big.
Do you want to play with me? Yay.
Obviously I would love it if you gave this exercise a shot. It definitely helps to have context of Barbara’s amazing book, but you’ll get cool stuff from it either way.
And then if you want to share some (or all) of your results here, that would be really interesting! And fun!
And then I won’t be being all self-help-ey all by myself. (Also, you definitely don’t have to do the exercise for your entire Ideal Family — imagining one person works too.)
Comment zen:
We’re all practicing.
Wheee! Play with me!