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 #9: little moments of grace
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: Can things just please start working out?
Here’s what I want:
Perfect simple solutions.
This week has been full of little things driving me crazy.
Misinformations. Miscommunications. Time-suckage from unexpected sources.
I really, really need some ease right now. Harmony and ease.
Ways this could come to me:
Little moments of grace.
Remembering that I’m allowed to have a hard day. Even at 7 in the morning on a Sunday.
Insights and calm from my Angel Refueling Station (yes, it’s a closet).
Things just working out. Because I need them to.
I could do five minutes of Shiva Nata and have everything just kind of get into rhythm the way it does sometimes.
Patience. Mysteriously finding me.
Or I could get better at noticing which part of the instructions I give people tend to go screwy, and better at explaining why I need what I need in the way that I need it.
My commitment.
I will notice things.
I will be ridiculously grateful for every perfect simple solution that shows up.
I am ready to practice being patient with myself when I can … and understanding of the fact that patience is not my natural state when I can’t.
Thing 2: a comfortable trip
Here’s what I want:
Since Selma and I have been doing a ton of teaching, the past two months have had crazy amounts of travel — San Francisco, Taos, last week North Carolina, and this week Berlin.
Travel + sleeplessness + hypersensitivity to noise = sad-faced Havi.
I’m really, really wanting either:
a. A flight without shrieking babies, loud talkers (with unbelievably boring and apparently endless stories), nasal flight attendants on distorted PA systems, blaring televisions, people kicking me in the back …
OR
b. A flight where I manage to easily and steadily maintain my peace of mind, while keeping my hardcore “help I’m a Highly Sensitive Person” issues under control.
Or both.
So I guess this is the same ask as the first one. Harmony and ease. I am craving the qualities of harmony and ease.
Here’s how I want to get them:
From my heart.
I want to remember that these qualities reside inside of me, and that I have access to them when I need them. I want reminders that there is always more of the thing I need.
My commitment.
I will use my ear plugs before we’re already knee-deep in an emergency HSP situation.
I will bring more books than I think necessary. And have my emergency calming techniques with me.
And I will also do my magic “calming babies down” trick (that I can do in my head and which always works) that I tend to forget to do once I’m all off balance.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So last time what I asked for was perspective.
And I kind of got it.
I mean, I got brilliant sparks of epiphanies during the North Carolina wacky Shivanautical workshop.
And some very peaceful moments. And one very big realization.
I could still use some more, though. My sense is that I’m going to need to re-ask this one slightly differently and see what comes up.
In the meantime, I’ll just wait and see how the harmony and ease thing goes and if I need/want to be more specific.
The other thing I asked for was help writing a post or a series of posts explaining how/why personal ads are not necessarily a “wacky” practice.
And how it can be a very down to earth, centered, here I am learning useful stuff about myself sort of thing.
Still working on that, but I did write a post about what to do when you feel conflicted about writing a personal ad. A start. Thank you!
Comments. Since I’m already asking …
I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about 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.
- Thoughts or ideas about ways any of the personal ads listed here could come true.
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 Check-in #56: My duck has a wardrobe. Does yours?
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.
This week had way too much week in it.
Also, a lot of it was spent in the airport in Johnson City, Tennessee not getting on planes.
If they gave frequent flyer miles for kvetching, I’d have earned a trip back there already, so I’m not going to mention it in this week’s Chicken. Just assume extra persnickety-ness in the hard!
Let’s chicken this thing.
The hard stuff
Exhausted.
Between the getting-ready-to-travel and the traveling and the getting-ready-to-travel-again … I’m kind of behind on the sleeps.
Add to that the flight that required getting up at four in the morning.
And the mini-crisis at the retreat that resulted in me being at the airport at 2 a.m. to meet a stranded student.
Too much tired.
On the other hand, now I have a series of Useful Understandings about how I need to build more rest and recovery into my teaching schedule. Yeah yeah. Just give me a bed please and ten hours to hide in it.
Did I mention traveling?
Because we’re leaving for Berlin in just a few days.
Remember last year
I thought I was a nervous wreck then, but then I hadn’t spent the entire month beforehand teaching and traveling.
Gah. That is all.
Any form of being touched by strangers.
No, really. I need to know.
What is it about me that tells airport security they need to call me aside to have random people paw me? Where is the big sign that says “I love being groped by a total stranger in front of a bunch of total strangers?”
I already know about basic avoidance tactics.
The being polite thing. And the dressing casually but professionally thing. And the not wearing anything that looks like it could conceal anything thing.
Is it the California driver’s license? Is it the red eyes from being crazy tired?
Because I hate this. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
*Also? This time the woman asked me, “Is there any place on your body that is especially sensitive to touch?” What? ALL of me is sensitive to being touched by you, total stranger.
Systems headaches.
A pirate queen is never done working on her Mad Pirate Systems (seriously, that’s the what the label on my binder says).
But there was a lot of work this week on our Pirate Crew Code of The Seas stuff.
And while I know that in the long run this is a good thing, it’s totally hair-tearing-out-able while it’s actually happening.
Harrumph, says I.
And onward to the good stuff!
The good stuff
The workshop in North Carolina!
It was so completely amazing to be there. I learned so much.
Plus I LOVE real-life right-there-in-the-room teaching. Love love love love love. It is the most astonishing, energizing, exciting thing.
And every time I teach Dance of Shiva in combination with other forms of wackiness, I jumpstart my own epiphanies like crazy. So I have piles of more Useful Notes about things that are going to be super helpful for me.
And the space was beautiful. And I got to meet a white peacock.
My Right People? So ridiculously Right they knock my socks off.
Wow.
I mean, I already knew that my Right People are smart, interesting, thoughtful and goofy.
But the people who came to my North Carolina weekend of wackiness were just so impressive.
So kind hearted. So insightful. Such askers of fascinating questions. So willing to be silly with me.
Getting to spend an entire weekend with these amazing people was pure joy.
Speaking of socks!
Fan-socks! Fan-socks! One of the Shivanauts at the workshop brought me hand-knitted fan-socks.
She also knitted a scarf for Selma which is now the second time someone has made a scarf for my duck.
Because Selma wasn’t enough of a diva. Now she has a wardrobe.
My life could not be more ludicrous/awesome.
Home!
My gentleman friend! Back at Hoppy House! Having regular access to my Angel Refueling Station again (and not just the one in my head).
And Portland. Oh, Portland Portland Portland. I know I’m about to abandon you again for a few months, but I love you and your unapologetic quirkiness.
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:
Pink Like Me
Totally fictitious example because I cannot remember how this one came up …
Me: “You think you’re pink like me?.”
My gentleman friend: “Pink Like Me? Isn’t that … just one guy?”
*Thanks to the Blonde Chicken for this one.
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.
The one that made the least amount of sense this week:
he’s your caller Colin instead of “the page you want is here”
And … some of the other gems:
- Why is DMU the password? instead of “I’ll DM you the password”
- so that was overdue instead of “oh, that was Stu”
- Charlie to keep from productive lurching instead of “Charlie Gilkey from Productive Flourishing“
- take me out of the blogging instead of “take me out to the ballgame”
- I think advocates of the catechisms levels instead of “I think I have a case of the sniffles”
- Brady and Shannon instead of “Rage Against The Machine”
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.
Not a personal ad.
But maybe a preview?
Some of my clients and students and other Right People out there in the world are feeling … oh, conflicted.
They want (or mostly want) to be writing Very Personal Ads* but they aren’t. And can’t.
*The Very Personal Ads are a practice where we ask for something we want in order to get clarity on stuff and also to practice getting better at asking for things.
It’s a kind of … personal ad paralysis. And it makes sense.
As one of my students said:
“I’m definitely very drawn to the Personal Ads and I also keep pulling away.
It’s like, I want to ask for things (or to be able to ask for things) but it sets off all my stuck and anyway, I can’t even narrow any of this down enough to figure out what I actually need, you know?”
I get it. And I’m also thinking, maybe we can make this whole thing a little less hard.
How about we start with this?
Don’t write a personal ad.
Seriously. You don’t have to. I mean, you feel conflicted.
So right now if you were going to write a personal ad, it would be one that asked for the ability to not feel conflicted about writing personal ads.
You’re probably not going to do that because … uh, you feel conflicted. About writing personal ads.
Which is absolutely legitimate.
So, instead of writing a personal ad (or a personal ad for a personal ad), what if you wrote a non-personal non-ad?
Like this. You answer these three questions.
Except they aren’t actually questions so it’s really more like you finish these sentences.
Selma and I will do the exercise too, so you have an example to work with. Though if you don’t like the non-questions, you can totally rewrite those too.
Non-personal-ad non-question #1:
Even though I don’t know what I would even ask for …
Even though I don’t know what I would even ask for … I really like the idea of getting clarity on something. So if writing a personal ad could shed some light on some of this stuff that would be pretty great.
Even though I don’t know what I would even ask for … I’m going to try this thing and find out what happens when I give myself permission to ask.
Even though I don’t know what I would even ask for … I wonder what would happen if I could just ask for something without necessarily having to think about whether or not there’s a possibility of receiving it.
Non-personal-ad non-question #2:
Even though I don’t believe that there is any way on earth that this would ever work …
Even though I don’t believe that there is any way on earth that this would ever work …what if it doesn’t have to?
Even though I don’t believe that there is any way on earth that this would ever work …what if it did?
Even though I don’t believe that there is any way on earth that this would ever work …what if it were enough for me to get a bit more clarity on what I want and need?
And what if that clarity could be a resource that I could call on when I needed it? What if it could give me that extra spaciousness?
What if that clarity and spaciousness could turn out to be the answer that I’m needing? Not something external but something internal?
Non-personal-ad non-question #3:
Even though I feel really, really uncomfortable when I just start to think about asking for stuff …
Even though I feel really, really uncomfortable when I just start to think about asking for stuff, I’m noticing that this is all about my sense that asking is greedy.
Even though I feel really, really uncomfortable when I just start to think about asking for stuff, I’m recognizing that I’m really … afraid that people will think I’m obnoxious or “entitled” or demanding stuff.
Even though I feel really, really uncomfortable when I just start to think about asking for stuff and this is setting off all my triggers about “deserving” and how money doesn’t grow on trees and stuff … I don’t have to do things that make me really uncomfortable.
I’m allowed to have issues around this. And I’m noticing that this is reminding me of [personal memory] and that’s really interesting.
And I’m noticing that I have big crazy resistance to the word “allowed”. Blech. I think I need to do more thinking/writing on that one.
Actually, I think I’m going to do ten minutes of Shiva Nata with my discomfort-with-asking as my theme/intention and maybe I’ll get an epiphany on that in the next couple days.
So, in low-key conclusion …
I guess what I’m recommending here is letting yourself not do the practice, but to go ahead and not-do-it in a way that lets you engage with some of the interesting bits of it.
In other words, you have permission to skip the stuckified parts but to still enjoy things like playfulness and curiosity and exploration.
Or whatever not-quite-as-cheesy words work for you.
Because who knows? Maybe this will open a door or two into a practice that’s a better fit for you.
Maybe it will supply some Useful Information about what you need.
Or maybe it will help you realize that doing it one way isn’t your thing, but there’s a different way of interacting with this that might lead you to something that is your thing.
And if the not-doing gives you a little more freedom to have fun with this, hooray. And if not, we’ll try something else.
My own Very Personal Ad for today?
Wishing for you (okay, and for me!) anything that helps you feel safe, supported and loved. And whatever you need to help release the stuff that says you “have to do it this one way“.
Because you don’t.
And that’s the great (and weird) part in this whole working on your stuff thing. You get to do it in a way that’s comfortable for you. I know! Crazy! Right?
But that’s another topic so I’m just going to trail off awkwardly now. Like this …
Item! Blurbishness! The airport edition.
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 writing this Tuesday night hoping hoping hoping that by the time this is published Wednesday morning I’ll be back home in Portland.
It’s been ridiculously hard just getting out of Tennessee and even making it to Atlanta launched another saga of complications.
But enough about my complicated life and on to the Items!
Item! Post No. 32 in a series whose existence continues to beat the odds even while I’m on the road, apparently.
Item! So beautiful!
I am madly in love with Elizabeth’s blog. It’s called Retinal Perspectives and it’s pictures. And words.
Gorgeous, gorgeous pictures. And words.
Her tagline is “finding beauty in the ordinary — and in the extraordinary” … and that pretty much sums it up.
These yellow flowers make me too happy.
Or this beautifulness from the Lake Oswego market. This to me is summer in Portland.
Item! Miliblogging.
I love this post because it reminds me of the never-more-than-five-line emails my friend David and I sent each other over the course of years and years and years.
Of course, I can’t blog like this because for me, anything under a thousand words is excruciatingly painful and takes twice as long to write.
But I love the concept. I love the freedom in it.
Or, really, the combination of freedom and structure, liberation and discipline. It’s very Shiva Nata, as a concept.
“What would you say if you had to keep your blog post/email/whatever less than five sentences long?
You’d have the same resources — including time — to write a shorter body of text that would give the same impact.
What are the benefits to the reader? What would you have to do differently?”
You can answer his question here.
And really, how can you not read a blog whose tagline is Flogging A Dead Horse… and other animals?
He’s @neonpaul on Twitter.
Item! I can’t stand having to write about myself.
Even though I have my wonderful First Mate to turn down almost all interview requests and the like, every once in a while I get roped into a thing.
A thing where I’m expected to write something. About me. And what I do. What?!
As if I have even the faintest idea about what that is. Ridiculous, I say!
Shouldn’t people already know who I am? And if not, can’t we just let them figure it out over time like everyone else?
If I can make a very good living not having any idea what I do, why can’t we all just go on with the not knowing?
Anyway. Enough whining. But my problem is that as soon as someone asks me to write about myself, I get all goofy.
Here are some of the little bio blurb-ey bits I’ve written but haven’t sent:
“Havi: pirate queen — Selma: dancing queen”
“Havi: silent partner of international drama queen diva Selma the Duck, who has appeared on German television and even had her picture in the New York Times and stuff. Twice.”
“Havi has an unfortunate disease which results in her not being able to talk about herself in the third person without giggling hysterically.”
“Havi’s Right People are kind enough to not really care what she does or why, so she’s going to keep being mysterious and not explain it, if that’s okay.”
Item! Wordnik!
This site! It’s called wordnik.
And really I should not have to say any more than that to get you to click through.
Marissa told me about it. She’s @marissabracke on Twitter.
Item! 200 women.
The brilliant and fabulous Sally Jacobs, ladies and gentleman.
She sent me this. Because she sends me things.
“Daily Zen –> 200 women clock in @ the westinghouse factory in 1904. I thought they all had the exact same hair, but not if you look close!”
She’s @sally_j on Twitter.
Item! This logo on YOUR website! How could you not want that?
This is super mean and I should know better.
But every once in a while I’ll be reading someone’s sales page and something will just hit me right in the funny bone.
So yeah, I’m not even close to being one of the Right People for this program. Which means that this page isn’t for me. It’s for other people.
But I read it anyway and then laughed for almost ten minutes. All because of this one question:
“How would this logo look on your website?”
I can’t think of an appropriate answer to that question (though I also can’t stop asking it and then collapsing in giggles) so I’m going to stop right here.
Item! Comments!
I loved the other week when I got to work on my practice of how I ask for stuff and you guys gave me the most amazing recommendations.
Here’s what I’m wishing for comment-wise:
- Things that make you laugh inappropriately.
- Things that are good about Wednesday (either in general or related to the particular Wednesday-ness of today.
My commitment.
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 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.
Stranded in Tennessee — and weirdly grateful.
You might already know that I’m not really a fan of forced gratitude or mandatory counting of blessings.
Which is why I have my list of 77 things that don’t completely suck for my Thanksgiving-inspired not-having-to-be-grateful gratitude practice.
And yet … here I am. Making a list of things I’m really, truly, sincerely appreciating right now. And it’s surprising the hell out of me.
Things I’m really, truly sincerely appreciating right now … despite being stranded in Tennessee.
Or maybe even because of it.
These are numbered because I feel like numbering stuff (indulge me!), but the order is pretty irrelevant. The order: it’s like the final score on Whose Line Is It Anyway.
1. My sweet love … aka the iPhone.
Spending half the day in an absurdly tiny airport and then not even getting on a flight …
The waiting-without-knowing can be really challenging. For me, at least.
Having some internet-ness and the twittering (and being able to text/call my gentleman friend) all without worrying about power cords and such was pretty cool.
2. My other sweet love.
Even from a gazillion miles away, my gentleman friend is the best commiserator ever.
He always knows exactly what to say and never tries to cheer me up by telling me that actually things are really okay.
And he can do the co-grumbling and the gratifying symbolic fist-shaking-at-the-heavens like nobody’s business.
3. The older man who drove the shuttle to the hotel.
I don’t remember his name and to be honest, I couldn’t understand more than about half of what he was saying because of the accent — but boy was he ever sweet.
Which is good.
Because I was feeling pretty cranky, what with the waiting and the wondering and then the “we’re canceling the flight that was supposed to leave three hours ago and we can’t put you on another one, so here’s a voucher for a hotel, see you tomorrow, bye” part.
And the even more annoying part of how they absolutely will not apologize even though that would so clearly earn them back a few mensch points.
Anyway, this guy was awesome.
He talked my ear off about everything. The local area (born and raised). And about what food to eat (“there’s a Mexican place where I never understand what I’m eating but I always order the #6”).
And about how wonderful the hotel he works for is. Seriously. Never have I heard anyone wax so poetic about a barely run-of-the-mill chain before.
But he loves his job and you can totally tell.
“Oh, Miss Trish! That Miss Trish will take care of you! And there’s breakfast. And it’s good. It’s real good.”
4. Being cared for by Miss Trish.
Really, she’s that good.
And cheerful. The exact kind of cheer that I’m needing right now.
5. The niceness in general.
I don’t know if it’s just southerners doing the southern thing.
Is that a horrible stereotype? Are southerners really more easy going than everyone else in North America?
Because it could be that I just happened to bump into a bunch of especially cheerful people, but man. Cheerful in the face of ludicrous wrongness — but in an endearing, inspiring way instead of an annoying one.
It really seems as though everyone around me is so much more patient and kind than I am. And for some reason even that doesn’t annoy me today.
6. Not being poor anymore.
It helps.
It helps with the not panicking when things go not according to plan.
This is not my last five dollars. I can buy something to eat. If I have to take a cab somewhere, it’s a thing I can do.
Whew.
I am so very thankful for that.
7. Having three different people model for me what the right attitude is.
The right attitude? Meh. I don’t know. A useful attitude.
There was the woman who travels to and from St. Louis at least once a week. Sensible clothes, ponytail, earrings that did sparkly things.
She said, “I used to get so mad at this stuff. It would make me completely crazy. Until I realized that all that does is make you more crazy. Not worth it. Not worth the crazy.”
There was the guy with the long hair who had just come back from the Nascar race in Bristol and he turned to me and said, “Isn’t this fun?”
Me: “Mmmm … that’s one word for it.”
And he laughed like it was the funniest situation that anyone could possibly get himself into.
And there were the two hilarious women from Sioux Falls, obviously old friends, who regaled me with tales of the dozens of bizarre and awful things that had happened to them on their way here.
And how they’d just given up and gone to drink bourbon at the airport bar, and cackle about it. They were awesome.
8. People to laugh with.
It helps.
Laughing alone just isn’t as much fun.
8.5. Not alone.
I have Selma. I have my thoughts. I have people I know (Tara the Blonde Chicken!) who care about me and can take care of me if things go weird.
In fact, because of the crazy magic of Twitter, I could get “stranded” pretty much anywhere and still know people there.
9. A forced vacation is a good thing too.
Right?
Special postscript in case you happen to be related to me:
You don’t have to worry. I’m fine. I got a lovely hotel room and another flight home … everything worked out perfectly.
Whee.
Comment Zen for today:
- Disastrous travel stories of your own are welcome!
- Commiseration = also good.