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.
Item! Obsessed with light sabers!
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.
Remember when I went on emergency vacation? Well, I’m doing it again.
It’s not so much an emergency. More of a yeah I really need to get out of Berlin situation.
Luckily, the internet is continuing to be interesting. So yeah. Items! Exclamation points! Hi.
Item! Post No. 35 in a series that continues to amuse me even when I am unexpectedly in Denmark.
Item! Not that I was just in Denmark or anything.
Actually, I am in Denmark right this second.
But this would still be funny if I weren’t.
Oh, advertising agencies! Really the only thing more funny is … making fun of advertising agencies. I’ll take it.
Visit Denmark: “We want people to go to Denmark and have a positive association with their memories from that trip.”
Agency: “Can we use vikings?”
Visit Denmark: “No, vikings are played out. And really…’can we use vikings’…really?”
Agency: “Okay, how about Amsterdam.”
Visit Denmark: “Amsterdam isn’t even in Den…look we’ll call you.”
Twitter: From @mekanism and found via Casey who is @Casey_Cole.

Item! Are you obsessed with light sabers?
Because you should be.
I try not to be. But it’s pretty much a lost cause.
“First of all, I have heard of this new device being considered reminiscent of a lightsaber (hence the picture), but I don’t think anything that can’t cut an arm off should be in any way compared to a lightsaber. “
Warning: time suck! Time suck! Glorious time suck! You might be here for days. Maybe save it for the weekend?
But there are squirrels with light sabers! And one of the post tags is pew pew pew.
I might be in love. And you might find everything about this site highly inappropriate. Blame Jenny!
Via Jenny the Bloggess who is @TheBloggess on Twitter.

Item! San Francisco Motorcycle Club Elects First Female President!
Whooooo!
Meet Madam President Tegan Hetzel-Dobbins
As Amanda said: Yey go girl zoom!
I read about it here.
Also, you really have to listen to the Sparkletack episode about the history of this Club. I have been somewhat obsessed with the San Francisco Motorcycle Club ever since it got sparkled.
Actually, go for the pictures and stay for the episode.
Via my friend Amanda who is @ClusterLuck12 and (finally!) on Twitter

Item! Like rubbing your tummy and patting your head. In an anti-gravity chamber.
Nice post from Briana called “I’m a contradiction“.
About all this stuff she’s learned about her patterns through doing my Dance of Shiva wackiness. Super interesting.
You know what’s funny? I’m constantly trying to describe Shiva Nata and I can’t.
And then she shows up and just nails it:
“You basically combine specific arm and leg movements in certain sequences and it feels a little like trying to rub your tummy and pat your head. In an anti-gravity chamber.
While also trying to memorize an international telephone number. And some annoying person is shouting random digits in the background. In Chinese. Or something nothing at all like that, but even more confusing. “
Awesome.
And if you read her blog, you’ll notice that the whole thing is full of shivanautically-inspired insights.
She’s @tweetbri on Twitter.

Item! From the duck scarf chick!
Remember when my duck got her second scarf? That was Romilly. I adore her.
So Romilly wrote about some of the realizations she came up with during the workshop I taught in North Carolina workshop
“I need more space and comfort in my life. The state of my studio has become priority number one for a while.
I also need to trust myself more and realize that when my intuition takes the time to tell me I need to do something, it’s not because it likes the sound of its own voice. LOL”
Nice!
She’s @deRomilly on Twitter.

Item! I’m supposed to tell you something and I don’t remember what it is.
Way before people started sending my duck new additions to her wardrobe, Naomi and I did a thing.
A very excellent thing. And it was about how to make the monies even — especially? — when things are recession-ey and horrible. Or when they’re not.
It was full of brilliance because Naomi is a genius and I am a deranged pirate. And we both have strong opinions, which is probably not as charming as we think it is, but still very useful.
That was back in March or something.
In the meantime, she’s always off moving to England or moving back from England, and I’m in Copenhagen even though I’m supposed to be in Berlin, and between her emotional breakdowns and mine, it’s kind of hard to keep track of these things.
So we’re doing something with this and I’m so tired that I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to tell you about it.
But I’m sure she’ll post about it soon and I’ll feel like an idiot.

Item! Comments!
So it was really cool the other week when I got to work on my practice of how I ask for stuff and you guys gave me the best reading recommendations ever!
So I’m going to try it again.
Here’s what I want:
- Things you’re thinking about.
- More lyrics.
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.
Ask Havi #26: What to say to people.
Note: it is almost impossible to get on the Ask Havi list. This person got in by a. being one of my clients or students, b. flattering the hell out of my duck, and c. making life easy on me by being clear about what the question was and what details I could use.
So. This is a weird, complicated double Ask Havi because I have two people in seemingly opposite situations with the same problem. Namely:
“What do you say to those people in your life when … “
Right.
When they bug you. When they won’t leave you alone. When they think you should be following their advice.
When they can’t understand why you would do things your way and not their way.
Or when they aren’t saying anything yet but you’re worried that they’re going to. Hard!
Right. Different situations. Same issue. Different advice. Same principles.
Person #1:
“I’m taking a break from doing my thing because I decided I need to go back to having a ‘real job’ for a while. I’ll still be working on my thing and thinking about my thing, but won’t be engaging me in a full-time way.
And I’m worried about people giving me crap about it.”
Person #2:
“Everyone in my life will not stop asking me when I’m going to quit doing my thing and go back to a ‘real job’. It’s driving me crazy. They keep hinting that maybe now is the time and why would I take the risk of keeping it up.
They don’t understand that — for me, at least — there isn’t any real security in a job, and that doing my thing is something I truly believe in and am invested in.
I know I can make it work, but all my energy goes to these people and their worries.”
And … exhale.
Starting at the beginning.
First off, hugs all around for the hard. Because ack. Hard.
Both of these situations are absolutely challenging and frustrating, each in its own way. It completely makes sense to me that either one of these things would be all kinds of stressful.
So … I’m going to take them one at a time. I’ll tell you what I think and what I would say. And then maybe do a little summing up.
And, as always, take the stuff that’s useful for you and ignore the bits that aren’t. And go ahead and rephrase whatever I say into language that works for you.

The person who has a job and feels weird about it.
My thoughts.
There’s nothing wrong with a job. Lots of people have jobs. Lots of people take jobs while they’re working on developing their thing.
Let me quote (with permission) the wonderful Susan Marie on this:
“I am very boring on the subject of jobs. Just this: jobs that help people pay bills and be independent and move forward are a good thing.
We learn things from them. We combine jobs with other things. They surprise us.
And we who work in the arts often put together very quirky combinations of things to help ourselves be financially independent. I will try to avoid spraining my ankle as I jump down off of this soap box.”
Yes! Also, did you ever read Andrea J. Lee‘s book Multiple Streams of Coaching Income?
She has a whole chapter — a really good one — called Coaching Day Jobs. About why it’s actually a great idea for coaches to get jobs doing a non-coachey thing. Because that’s where you find out what it’s like to use coaching skills in a non-coaching situation.
So yeah. Absolutely a legitimate thing to do.
What I’d say to people who asked.
“I get that you’re feeling anxious when you think about me not doing my thing, because you need to know that I’m going to be okay. And I appreciate that.
“Right now this feels like the best way for me to create a safe, supportive environment to grow my thing and take care of myself in a conscious and steady way, without burning out.
“So this decision is really about allowing me to take the time to figure out what my next steps are, and to make sure that I don’t get depleted. Because the only way I can grow my thing right now is through me getting the support I need.”
The person who doesn’t want that job and is sick of being asked when she’s going to take it.
My thoughts.
Totally legitimate.
And man, when you’re working on growing your thing, there’s nothing harder than constantly being challenged on it by the people you need cheering you on.
I’ve been there. It sucks.
What I’d say to people who asked.
“I get that you’re feeling anxious when you think about me doing my thing, because you need to know that I’m going to be okay. And I appreciate that.
“Right now the thing I need most to guarantee my success is a safe, supportive environment. The only way I can make this thing work is if my energy goes to taking care of myself and my business, and not to external things.
“Which means I need you to be a strong, steady source of support that I can count on. I totally get if you can’t do that right now because you feel anxious — I’m just asking that if you can’t, that you not bring up your worries with me right now.
Because right now I need to grow my thing and take care of myself in a conscious and steady way, without burning out. And in order to do that, I need my focus to be on surrounding myself with things that support me in what I’m doing.”

Principles! We like them.
So yeah.
Both of my answers were kind of the same.
That’s because of the principles involved. As follows.
1. Acknowledge feelings.
Their feelings (the anxiety and worry they have about you being okay).
And also your feelings (frustration).
Sometimes you just acknowledge your own feelings to yourself because they won’t be able to hear it right now. And sometimes you can try to explain it to them.
2. Express needs.
Their needs (to know you’re going to be okay).
But mostly yours (to be supported).
3. Set boundaries
You need support.
If they can give it to you in any form, great. If they can’t, great.
But they are going to have to stop doing things that are actively unsupportive, like telling you that you’re going to end up sleeping in a cardboard box if you don’t listen to them.
Because right now you’re surrounding yourself with support. They can be part of it or they can go away until they’re ready to be part of it.
4. Use feelings words instead of thinking words.
When you say, “I think X”, someone can argue with you and tell you that you should be thinking Y.
When you say, “I feel anxious when I’m not sure if I’m getting the support I need”, no one can argue with you about what you feel.
They can’t tell you that you don’t feel anxious. It’s what you feel and that’s that.
5. Emergency use: the internal-knowing thing.
Okay, this one is tricky. Because some people use the internal-information thing in a slimy way, yes. But it’s still a useful technique.
If you say you meditated on it or you prayed on it, and this is the answer you got from your heart … people can’t argue with that either.
Personally, I would never use this if it weren’t actually true. But yeah, go meditate on it. Go sleep on it. Go ask yourself what the answer is.
And then give it to someone else in a form where they don’t get to argue with it.

Commiseration.
It’s all harder than it sounds.
It all takes time.
Eventually (she types hopefully) we’ll get to the point where we care less what they think. That’s the sovereignty part.
In the meantime, we get to work on our stuff in the soft (all the emotional bits) and in the hard (systems!) … and we take lots of notes.
And did I say this part already? Hugs for the hard!
Comment zen:
We’ve all got our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We try to respond to each other with as much kind-hearted understanding as we can stand. Lou Reed lyrics (still) welcome.
Very Personal Ads #12: lighthouses and foghorns.
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: Rest and restfulness
Here’s what I want:
You know how people say they need a vacation from their vacation? So that’s what I’m doing.
Going on vacation from my vacation.
What I want is for it to be as restful as possible.
Here’s how I want this to work:
Comfortable pillows.
Sleep. Wonderful sleep.
Routine. Ritual. Comfort.
Long walks with no destination or purpose in mind.
My commitment.
I will try not to guilt myself into anything. I will give myself permission to do nothing all day if I feel like it, or to get some work done if I feel like it.
I will do one yoga pose every morning, to start the day.
If I feel like doing more, more will happen. If I don’t, I will thank myself for keeping with my ritual and that will be enough.
Thing 2: to emerge from the fog.
Here’s what I want:
Clear-headedness.
Ways this could happen:
Wacky epiphanies from doing Shiva Nata. Yes!
Or no epiphanies. But just a clearing of the fog.
Maybe just getting out of Berlin and away — literally and symbolically — from the demonstrations, the marathons, the fireworks, the helicopters and the jackhammers … maybe that will be enough.
And of course, a session with Hiro, which always, always helps.
My commitment.
I will notice where I am in relation to the fog. I will not try to force or fight my way out of the fog. I will interact with the fog.
I will keep writing.
And I will be steady in reminding myself that fog is a natural result of sleepless nights and stressful situations. It is not a permanent state and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with me.
Thing 3: a solution to my other living situation issue.
Here’s what I want:
For the current complication with Hoppy House to sort itself out. I don’t so much care how, but I need something to happen with this.
Here’s how I want this to work:
Not a clue. Magic? Faith? Trust?
Or something just happening, in the way it sometimes does.
My commitment.
I will do what I can now to stop freaking out about this (or, alternately, to give myself full permission to freak out about this) until it works itself out.
I will practice patience when I can, and be understanding with myself when I can’t.
Of course I will also do Dance of Shiva on it, and take it to Hiro and see what stuff of my own I can shift while working on this.
I will find safe, comfortable ways of expressing my pain and my fear.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s been going on. Last time I asked about three things.
For a perfect place to stay in Berlin, for my December workshop to fill up, and for some time to work on my projects.
I didn’t find a place to stay in Berlin. But I did make the decision to cancel my last three workshops and get out of there. Which felt really good.
The workshop sold out (yay!) and I’m looking forward to spending a day with the loveliest group of people ever. Very happy with that.
And there may have been time for projects, but no inclination. I have been very much in the fog.
So I’ll be looking for ways to reshape that ask into some sort of form that makes more sense for me right now. I think what I need most right now is to focus on recovering from this past month of hard.
I also want to mention a lovely personal ad posted this week by the one and only Sparky Firepants. There are knee socks in it and he promises to sing in public.
It’s pretty great, as personal ads go.

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.
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 #59: Goodbye 5769
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.
Man. I am wiped out.
This was one hell of a week.
One of those weeks where the hard and the good are essentially the same thing. Or they echo each other in interesting ways.
And I’m glad it’s over.
It’s also Rosh HaShana again. Again?! Didn’t we just do this last year?
The hard stuff
Still with the noise.
Still the noise and the jackhammers and the construction and the exhaustion.
The not sleeping. It’s not good.
My brother moved out.
I knew we wouldn’t get to have him around forever, and I’m glad for him that he’s doing what he needs to do.
But I’m also sad. And the timing. The timing is the crappy.
I made some hard decisions too.
I hate making hard decisions.
Especially when I can’t sleep or think because of all the noise, and so I don’t so much make decisions as grasp at straws.
Also, even though the decision I made was absolutely the right one, there’s fall-out.
And I also have to pass up on the opportunity to be featured (alongside my duck) in a four page spread in one of my favorite magazines. We had to cancel the photo shoot and Selma is not happy with me right now.
Ow! Learning how to take care of myself.
No one ever tells you how much it hurts.
My whole big ridiculous lesson for this past year has been learning to take care of myself.
And of course, as it turns out, that actually means doing everything I find completely terrifying. Terrifying and impossible.
Things like:
- saying no
- not shepherding (even when I really, really want to)
- speaking clearly and openly
- setting boundaries
- asking for things
- standing up for myself
- making tough decisions
- not meeting other people’s expectations.
Being confronted with my least attractive patterns.
Not just being in them in the most painfully obvious ways possible, but also having them pointed out to me.
The way I fold in the face of other people’s expectations.
The way I have trouble saying what’s really on my mind.
The way I unconsciously try to manipulate other people into making my hard decisions for me.
The way I shut down completely when the most helpful thing to do would be to explain what’s going on for me.
The good stuff
Friends. People who get it.
All the people reminding me what my stuckified patterns are up to managed do it in the most kind, loving, non-judgmental way possible.
Which is new territory for me.
I was able to make my hard decisions and do what I had to do in a safe, supportive environment. That was huge.
My gentleman friend.
Having someone around who is always unequivocally on my side … this is a really big deal right now.
Opportunities. Even when I don’t get to take them.
Just being asked to be featured in a four page article in a magazine is exciting. Neat!
I’m also feeling extremely relieved that my career is at a point where I can afford to turn down opportunities like that without being afraid that if I don’t do it, I’ll never “make it”.
Yeah, yeah. Now I’m trying too hard to turn this into good stuff.
Back to some more natural goodness.
My theme for the coming year. I know what it is now.
It’s sovereignty.
Sovereignty.
That’s what I’m working on. And I’m working on it through creating safe spaces for me.
The Sacramento workshop is completely booked.*
And the most amazing people are coming to it.
I love that people are flying out from New York and London to spend a day with me and Selma doing wackiness. It makes me seriously happy.
*If you’re sad that you didn’t make it, you can take a look and then send Marissa a note asking to be on the waiting list in case anyone cancels.
This hard, hard week is over.
Sigh of relief.
Tomorrow is Talk Like A Pirate Day!
Aye.
And the pirate queen and her pirate duck are probably not going to be doing all that much to celebrate it, seeing as how it’s Rash Kishansha Rosh HaShana and all.
I mean, it’s weird enough to be throwing breadcrumbs into the Spree while holding a scarf-wearing duck. Again. Plus I don’t know if I can talk like a pirate in German.
But what the hell. Talk like a pirate day. It makes me smile.
Also, thanks to Sally for sending me this.
Because ohmygod. It’s brilliant.
And … playing live at the meme beach house!
Yes, that’s a Stuism too.
There are no Stuisms this week because Stu’s microphone is being Mr. Crankypants. And because I am doing my writing on the go and Stu is not really very on-the-go-able.
Anyway, back to who’s playing what at the meme beach house.
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:
Feed The Pony
Me: “Well, you know. You gotta feed the pony.”
My gentleman friend: “Huh?! That makes no sense.”
Me: “Context!”
My gentleman friend: “I’m right here. It still doesn’t make sense.”
Me: “You know what I mean though, right?”
My gentleman friend: “Only if you’re referring to that band Gotta Feed The Pony.”
Me: “Don’t tell me. 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.
And a sweet, happy new year if that’s your thing. 5770. It sounds better already.
Sovereignty casserole. And more about shoes.
We were talking about the relationship between shoe throwing (people saying hurtful things out of nowhere) and sovereignty (the state of not giving a damn what people think because you are the king or queen of your life).
And there were lots of things I didn’t cover — little bits and pieces for the gravy pan, as Andrea says.
So we’re having leftovers tonight. A bit of this and a bit of that. A sovereignty casserole. Or something.

Making the distinction between internal and external.
Like with anything else, there are two area that need attention when shoes (real or perceived) are being thrown.
There’s the internal:
- Thoughts, feelings, reactions, energy. Working on your stuff. All the work that happens “in the soft”.
And there’s the external:
- Systems systems systems. The actual steps you take “in the hard” to make changes in real life.
Example: I’m on email sabbatical.
This works very well for me because my inbox is well-known for being a place where shoes get thrown like crazy. It’s apparently part of being internet famous.
So I do the internal work of clearing out stucknesses and meeting myself where I am. I find out what I need to do to feel comfortable and safe being me.
And I also have external systems — my pirate crew. The First Mate answers all my email and the bosun moderates blog comments, keeping me safe from internet shoes.
However …
When you’re not in sovereignty, external systems can fall apart.
Sovereignty, again, is the quality of owning your space.
It’s feeling so safe being you, that you can’t be shaken from yourself.
When the sovereignty thing isn’t happening, we get shaky. And shaken.
It’s obvious how this affects our internal stuff. But our external systems can also suffer.
Back to my inbox example: If I know that going in there means stepping directly into the path of flying shoes, why would I do it?
I wouldn’t. And normally I don’t.
But last week I was all kinds of tired, confused and jetlagged. I needed an important piece of information that had apparently arrived by email. I felt stressed out and impatient. And anxious. So I broke my own system.
I didn’t wait for my gentleman friend to come home so he could get it for me. I didn’t ask someone on the pirate crew to retrieve it for me.
And I walked right into a shoe-storm. What seemed like dozens of them.
I promptly logged out and reminded myself that my systems exist for a reason. To take care of me.
Your most important job? Take care of yourself.
Because when I’m looking out for my physical and emotional well-being, I can do my best work.
And when I’m depleted and exhausted, it sucks for everyone.
My external systems — just like my internal practices — keep me grounded so that I can keep working on the sovereignty thing.
It all comes back to taking care of yourself. And safety. And finding ways to access that canopy of peace.
One thing that helps: knowing your triggers.
It’s crappy and horrible when things set you off. And it’s also all information for the big Book of You.
So you take notice and learn what you can about the things that keep you paralyzed.
And you come up with your escape plans beforehand.
For me and my HSP self, it’s loudness that sets me off.
So — even when not staying in a place with jackhammers outside the window — I need earplugs (check!) and music (check!) and …?
And the knowledge that when a situation reaches a certain noise level, there is no negotiation. I have to get out.
It means I need to know enough about my reactions to be able to say “this is too much”.
It means my gentleman friend has had to learn what a no-I-must-leave moment looks like.
And that’s why I’m not allowed to drive a produce truck.
Running away from the jackhammers to our favorite cafe in Berlin brought a brief interlude of piece.
Until some sort of impromptu parade came marching down the center of the street, complete with accordions, saxaphone and trumpet.
It was kind of like being in a film by Emir Kusturica. Only louder and more piercing.
Even with my earplugs in, my fantasies about hurling tomatoes at them grew stronger and stronger, until the only thing stopping me from rushing them and pelting the band members with rotten vegetables was the total lack of available produce.
I wanted to run them over with a produce truck.
I wanted to grab the guy with the tin can by the collar and scream “THIS IS NOT MUSIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
We come unglued. Well, I do. Hi. And that’s exactly when I get tempted to become the shoe-thrower. When external situations — triggers — are setting off the hard.
Sometimes we perceive shoes and then throw them in return.
This is what turns us into accidental shoe-throwers.
Someone asks what is — for them — a perfectly legitimate question. About our rates. About how we work. About what we do.
They’re so into their own stuff and their own hard that it doesn’t even occur to them that their question really feels like a shoe on our end.
Like they’re questioning our worth or our very essence.
We see a shoe and we hurl it back.
But it wasn’t a shoe. At least, not in that person’s mind.
And now we have two inadvertent shoe-throwers.
Or three.
Carina asked in the comments last time:
What do you do if you -– through accident or a hard day or because you’re used to have that shoe thrown at yourself by others -– throw a shoe at yourself?
There’s this Buddhist concept of the two arrows. The first arrow is the hard thing that happens and the second is you beating yourself up about it.
In other words, you feel so crappy about Shoe #1 that your reaction to it is Shoe #2. Thrown in your own direction. It’s the extra shoe.
“How come I can’t just remember that this isn’t about me?” is an extra shoe.
“When am I going to stop reacting to all these damn shoes?” is another one.
So yeah. Not fun. It’s also not a big deal. I mean, hell, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t toss shoes at himself once in a while.
The flowers: they just kind of belong in the sovereignty casserole.
My friend Andreas has this marvelous story about flowers.
We were reminiscing, and found ourselves talking about various times in each of our lives when we’d come to an impasse. A tight spot. An ending. A stuck.
No options. Or the perception of no options.
The last time Andreas was in that spot, he was down to his last 12 euros.
So he spent all of it on flowers.
And he said, “By the time they wilt and lose their petals, things will be better. Or at least different. But I hope better.”
And they were.
Sometimes any reminder is useful. That this too shall pass. That things will get better. That shifting and changing is the nature of things.
Including your relationship with sovereignty. Including your relationship with shoes.
I am going to buy flowers. And by the time they wilt and lose their petals, things will be better. Or at least different.
But I hope better.

Comment zen?
We all have stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We try and keep that in mind when we respond to each other. It helps with the shoes.