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 #6: In search of a title

very personal adsPersonal 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.

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 (cough, addictive) weekly ritual. Yay, ritual!

Let’s do this thing.

Thing 1: Retreeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaat!

Here’s what I want:

To lead more retreats.

Teaching for a week in Taos was so full of fabulous that I can’t wait to do it again. I mean, I know I’m about to leave to teach in North Carolina and then off to Germany to … do more teaching.

But retreats! I want retreats! And while I’ve taught all sorts of weekend workshops or ongoing series of workshops, I’m really ready to start doing longer, more intense events.

So what I’m asking for is:

A number of really great places to host them over the next couple years.

My ask:

These places are safe, comfortable and grounded.

They accommodate vegetarians and can handle people with various food sensitivities.

Yeah, they’re probably run by tree-hugging hippies, but they’re also responsible, responsive and willing to engage in clear communication.

They don’t require me to “apply” and be part of their official calendar or whatever. They get that I’ll be bringing my own people and doing my own m-word activities.

(Of course I won’t actually do any “marketing” at all, because my whole thing is playing hard to get, but you know what I mean).

Ways this could work:

People could post suggestions here (maybe even with links and other relevant information) in the comments about places they’ve been, taught or visited.

People could contact Marissa with detailed suggestions.

Someone could mention it in passing.

One of my Kitchen Table students might know the perfect, perfect place.

My commitment.

I will be open to the right places showing up.

I will be curious and ask questions. When I talk to friends who are likely to have Good Ideas about this, I will give myself permission to ask them.

And of course, I will love the spaces where I end up teaching. And do crazy amounts of wacky-healing-stuff beforehand to make sure that the space is ready for our work, because that’s how I do things.

Also during. And after. Seriously — we will leave the place full of love (us and the place), and it will be all kinds of beautiful.

Thing 2: a Very Personal Ad for my friend Chrisandra.

Here’s what she wants:

Chrisandra Fox is the loveliest person and she’s also a fantastic yoga teacher.

If you own my non-sucky yoga package you know her as the woman on the cover of the dvd. She’s been in Yoga Journal, she’s taught retreats, she’s great.

And she’ll be in Portland (yay!) from August 24 through September 12.

During this time she’ll be offering private lessons.

So if you’re in PDX (or the general area) and can fit one in, I am going to give this a super-high recommendation.

Let me know in the comments if that’s something that speaks to you, and Marissa will hook you up with Chrisandra’s contact info.

Thing 3: A title for my Shiva Nata Manual.

Here’s what I want:

I posted about this already on the Shivanaut blog (and got some terrific responses), but I really need a title for the manual.

And the more help the better!

The manual is a big freaking deal to me, as you will remember from the ghost of Very Personal Ads past.

And it’s a big part of the Advanced Kit that I’m working on.

And I am stuckified about what to call it.

Here’s how I want to get this:

As an epiphany. Bam! Either during or after my Dance of Shiva practice.

In meditation.

Here in the blog or over on the Shiva Nata website.

Or on Twitter.

Someone will come up with just the right thing, and I will have my perfect, simple solution.

My commitment.

I will be crazy-grateful.

I will love this title and love my book and not hide anymore.

Whoo! Shivanauts! Hot!*

*Also: peculiar and hilarious, but still …

Thing 4: all the Right People for my workshops in Berlin.

Here’s what I want:

Smart, fun, delightfully kooky people at my programs in Berlin in September and October. Berlin is my favorite city to teach in. By a lot.

Here’s how I want to get this:

Surprise me.

People will read the faq and go aaaaaaaaaaaaah, yes! And then if they have questions, they will ask Marissa.

My commitment.

The fun: it will be out of control. Also the epiphanies.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads and what’s going on with them.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I asked for an agent for my unborn-book … and got a really sweet email from someone I totally admire suggesting that she might be a good fit for this, or at least a good connection.

So that was … neat.

I also asked for quiet time to decompress.

Not so much of that. But on the other hand, things weren’t especially hectic if you think about the fact that I’d missed an entire week of work.

So that’s something.

And I think I will just keep asking to get better at giving myself time to rest and recuperate.

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:

  • 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’m committing 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.

Thanks for doing this with me! You guys rock. I say that every time, but it’s true.

This poem really doesn’t need a title. Also it’s not a poem.

It’s called Playing with Time. Or maybe it’s just about playing with time.

And it would be astonishingly pretentious except for the fact that, you know, I wrote it.

Kind of.

Oh, and that it’s not actually a poem.

Well, it’s really just a fairly bizarre collection of somewhat incoherent scribbled notes that came into their confused existence while I was teaching a teleclass last week on the topic of “playing with time”.

Because when I look at my notes, I have no idea what I was thinking (or talking about), but it does sort of look like poetry. If you squint. Anyway …

A poem that is really just a fairly bizarre collection of somewhat
incoherent scribbled notes that came into their confused
existence while —

well?

replenish and re-fill

filling up with:

the power of falling apart

without dissonance

time lost

time lost to the yuckiness, the overwhelming, the hurt

but then —

scheduling in time for all of it

for the freakouts and for the coming-down

for rollerskating and ritual and finger painting with pudding

scheduling a temper tantrum

scheduling time to make inappropriate noises

scheduling time to ask: what needs to happen now?

scheduling time to ask: what does this need?

because boundaries give spaciousness

because quality restorative time is a valid component of work

and I can block out time to go and daydream by the river

even if there is no river

because freedom, creativity, simplicity

dissolve guilt

taking time and talking to time and talking about time is investing in my work

it’s dancing between the drops

I want a beautiful timer

to remind me about the river

Friday Check-in #53: frizzy hair edition

Friday chickenBecause 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.

Oh, what a week.

I have no idea what happened because I was pretty much in recovery mode from last week in Taos.

So I’ll pretty much say “Oy, what a week!” … and leave it at that.

No, I’m pretty sure that if I sit here with Selma and Stu, and stare at the screen long enough, we’ll come up with something.

The hard stuff

Whiny!

I’m tired! It’s too hot! My hair is all frizzy and it wasn’t in New Mexico and I want to go back to New Mexico!

Et cetera.

Tired.

And missing being on Retreat. And missing teaching. And missing getting to do Shiva Nata wackiness with a room full of people.

And did I mention the tired?

Seriously, I must have slept twelve hours a night this week. Plus naps.

Many, many naps.

And still tired.

Some horrible person said that Paddy Fermor is gone.

He’s not.

It turned out to be a mean, fake rumor.

But it totally shook me up. Like, I cried.

If you do not know Patrick Leigh Fermor and you haven’t yet read A Time of Gifts …

I don’t even know what to say. He means so much to me.

And he’s ninety-four, and typing the final installment of his travel memoirs (after finally agreeing to use a ’51 Olivetti to expedite the process) after decades of writing it all out by hand.

Anyway, I was much relieved to find out that he’s okay. But it was just so much sad. So so so so so much sad.

Thursday.

Thursday was hellish.

I spent most of it under the covers feeling sorry for myself.

Leaving New Mexico.

Did I mention that New Mexico is my new favorite-favoritest state ever?

Because it is. Enchantment is exactly the right word.

So leaving that enormous sky and the smells and the green-chiles-on-everything (yum!) was full of sad and wistful.

The good stuff

Coming back to Portland.

In the airport this kid with long hair was skateboarding down the automated walkway people-mover-ey thing.

And my gentleman friend and I looked at each other and went, oh, Portland! We have missed you!

It’s a good town. Plus it’s full of berries. Berries! Really good ones. And Portlanders. So I really can’t complain.

And being safe at home in Hoppy House is pretty great too.

Also, my gentleman friend roasted chiles he brought back from Chimayo and made me the most fantastic chile rellenos de queso and I might be even slightly more impressed with him than I already was.

Traditions and rituals.

It’s just so good being back in routine.

We saw Mr. Pants!

Speaking of traditions, we (me and my gentleman friend and my brother, but not Selma) went out for our weekly non-Hoppy-House dinner.

And then we ran into Sparky Firepants (Mr. Pants!) and his adorable almost-two-year-old son who is just ridiculously charming.

I felt kind of bad that Selma wasn’t there, because kids love Selma. But I was also kind of glad that she’s such a loner sometimes because kids also drool on her and she hates that.

My pirate tech genius rocks.

Remember when I wrote a Very Personal Ad for someone to do mad moodling and various bits of magical tech wizardry for me?

So I just want to say that I am madly in love with Charlotte Bowen. Charlotte! I adore you!

Hiro is amazing.

I’m pretty much addicted to her particular brand of wackiness and healing (you know Hiro, right?)

And I try to do a session with her at least once a week.

But she just knocked me out this time. Just the most amazing everything-is-better-now thing that I can’t even describe.

Jaw-droppingly great.

I wrote a blog post in the afternoon.

Normally I can only write in the morning.

Any time between 5:30 am to sometime before noon works fine, and then I’m done.

For years I’d tried to force it, and then I just gave myself permission to be a morning writer. Which made life considerably better.

But on Wednesday? I wrote a blog post. At about 4:30 in the afternoon.

Even though it was waaaaaaay past my brain time, as Patsi would say.

Awesome.

And … new 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:

Hardcore Heinzelmännchen*

Me: “I just dropped peas all over the stairs.”

My gentleman friend: “Is that a Hardcore Heinzelmännchen reference? Because you know … it’s just one guy.”

Yes!

*Thanks to the brilliant @westernworld_ (one of my german twitter friends) who came up with 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.

I didn’t use Stu all that much this week because he kept getting stuck on capitalizing each word and I couldn’t find the command (not like he really listens to that many commands anyway) to make him stop.

And then at one point he actually said gay long instead of “internal”. I’m not even kidding. And that weirded me out so much that I actually went and pressed quit and started again.

My other favorite from this week?

but it’s not Qual instead of “but it’s not cool”

Uh, am I a valley girl? What is that accent?

Okay. The rest of the Stuisms:

  • Guinevere I see Harry instead of “whenever I see her”
  • I owe you say the fist thing instead of “I always say the first thing”
  • “Tom?” instead of “Huh?”
  • who are the Way more dignified than IM instead of “who are way more biggified than I am.”
  • un-entire weekend instead of “an entire weekend.”

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.

OFGSPDUA.

Oh, For Goodness Sake, Please Don’t Use Acronyms.

I have this one friend, and apparently she thinks I apparently have all these awesome sneakified tricks up my sleeve because whenever I see her she asks me for some sort of business tip.

Which sounds kind of annoying, except that when it’s her I really don’t mind.

Anyway, I always just say the first thing that comes into my head.

And the last time this happened, the first thing that came into my head was this:

Don’t. Use. Acronyms.

And then she said, “Huh?”

And I said, “I’m so turning this into a blog post.”

So here it is. No acronyms.

Internal acronyms are fine — it’s when you’re using them in public that you want to be careful.

So in my own business, if I’m leaving a message for one of the people on my pirate crew, I can still use acronyms as shorthand.

I can refer to Shiva Nata as ShNa. And I do.

Or the emergency calming techniques can go by ECT. That’s fine for internal communication.

But it’s not cool if I expect you guys to know what the hell I’m talking about.

Obviously, the poor … oh, five subscribers to my noozletter back in — oh dear — December 2005 had to deal with receiving their issue of “TFS News”.*

And yes, I’m sure they were all completely confused. Yes, TFS stands for The Fluent Self and that was incredibly obvious to … well, mostly me.

*But now that thousands and thousands of people read even the most ridiculous things that I write? I still don’t get to use acronyms. I know, it’s not fair.

But doesn’t it make you seem more biggified if you have an acronym?

No.

Best case scenario is that people have to do an extra few calculations in their heads to figure out what you’re talking about. Worst case is the whole “a confused mind says no” thing.

And it really is confusing. Just not to you. Because it’s your thing and you hang out with it all the time.

Anyway, lots of people (probably even most people) already think you’re all biggified because you have a website and maybe even a blog or a noozletter and stuff.

But what about “brand recognition”?

And lest you think that I’m a total icky marketing-ey person for saying “brand recognition” (oh, and “marketing”), let me just make it clear that this was her question.

She was worried that if she stopped referring to her thing as a series of letters strung together, that people might not take it as seriously. Or that they wouldn’t even remember it.

And this is a legitimate worry. I mean, you’re allowed to feel worried if that’s what you’re feeling.

It does feel scary when we desperately want people to remember who we are.

Here’s the thing, though.

It doesn’t work that way.

You’re not IBM.

And neither am I.

The same goes for people who are way more biggified than I am.

The likelihood that any of us — no matter how biggified or how just-starting-out — are going to come up with an acronym that is so sticky and so memorable that people are going to instantly know what it is when they see it…

Not very high.

I’ve been subscribing to Alon Sagee‘s excellent Yoga Business Journal for years — and I never, ever remember what YBJ stands for.

Back when I still got email, I subscribed to hundreds of noozletters and they all began with a string of initials and I never knew what anything was.

Even when I went to Vancouver to spend an entire weekend studying about how to become Beyond Booked Solid with Michael Port… I still had to work (each time!) to figure out what the damn BBS stood for on the handouts.

People just aren’t going to remember your thing.

At least not the acronym version of your thing.

But they will remember you. And your duck, if you have one.

So that brings us back to the whole “brand recognition” thing (apologies for the fact that I still don’t really have a non-gross word for that).

What you do want to do is get your name out there. You want people to remember your name — to remember your essence. Not a random amalgamation of letters that have no reason to stick in their head.

But you want to keep being you out loud. To keep reminding people that yeah, you’re there and you have a thing.

You know, like this:

“Hi. I’m Havi!

Or @havi if you’re a Twitter person. Kazoo!

No, it’s pronounced HA-vee. Pretend my name is Harvey and you have a Boston accent. Nice.

And this is my business partner. Her name is Selma. Yes, she is a duck.”

Well, maybe not really like that.

But the point is that if you are there and being all you-ish, and you show up even fairly regularly, you don’t have to keep bonking people over the head with an acronym that they will never remember anyway.

You hang out. You talk to people.

You find the ones you like.

Acronyms are empty. Words and names and ideas and conversations are what is memorable.

Unless, of course, you have a really good one that also sounds like a word. A word that means something and is actually related to what you do.

So if your thing is that you train dancing poodles, and your noozletter is called Poodle Operators On Delicate Little Equipment then maybe (but really probably not) you could make it work.

Because FDLFUA (friends don’t let friends use acronyms).

And … today’s hippie-ass Comment Zen (which I’m not calling CZ, because that would be confusing)

When I write a post which is funny or funny-ish (or — heaven forbid, tfu tfu tfu — sarcastic and a bit rant-ey), we tend to get a few “how dare you speak to me like that”s and “who do you think you are”s.

So: you don’t have to agree with me. I have no interest in dictating your personal experience of acronyms.

And you have choices. You can find someone whose sense of humor and self-expression is more to your liking. Or you can say, “Hey, sweetie. I have a different opinion on this.”

I just ask that you speak carefully, that you speak about your feelings and experiences instead of putting it all onto me, and that you try not to throw shoes.

In return, I commit to interacting with your ideas and with my own stuff as compassionately and honestly as is possible for me. Thanks!

Item! Metaphorical rabbit holes! The best kind!

Fluent Self Item!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.

You’d think I’d be all out of Items (Item! Havi is out of Items!) from being away teaching at the Writer’s Retreat.

But no! They find me.

It’s kind of weird.

Item! Post No. 29 in a series that promotes the falling down of rabbit holes, but only metaphorical ones, which is really the only kind that matter anyway, unless … never mind.

Item! A decent pick-up line for nuns (oh, that headline is a disaster, sorry)!

This post is the sweetest thing in the entire world.

Plus there is a picture of gorgeous, smile-happy Erika Harris hugging two nuns.

“Okay, fine. I had a little nun-worship going on. So what?”

She’s @LifeBlazing on Twitter.

Item! I actually got blocked by someone on Twitter.

That was pretty much the weirdest thing that’s happened to me.

I saw someone I follow say something to someone else. I looked at her page. She looked kinda cool.

So I followed. Or tried to.

Except that she had blocked me from following her. Which is hardcore, because I had never even heard of this person before a second before that, and because when I block people?

They’ve got to be spammers. Or serious slimeball stalker-ey people.

This is just me. Interested in reading about some regular, local, craft-ey person who does stuff with wool. I like wool. I buy it for people who spin or knit and might want to make me socks.

So … really? I can’t follow her? She doesn’t have to follow back. I mean, what if I never say anything to her? What if I’m just wool-curious? Is it because I made fun of a sheep once?

Anyway, what I learned this week (Item!) is that I can get weirdly paranoid. But also that people have strong opinions about me.

Item! Found on a scribbled piece of paper!

Remember when I went to San Francisco and taught a class and sang sea chanteys on the ship and stuff?

Well, while I was there I had one day where I was just exhausted and had to crawl into bed and disappear for a while.

And even though I’m a big fan of all-things nap-related, on this particular day I really just wanted to get my act together and take my energy back. I wanted to feel sparkly!

But I felt bleargh. Until I woke up. Then things were better again.

So I wrote myself a note and hid it in my bag.

I just found it and it made me smile.

“The pirate queen* is not only allowed to put herself first, she’s required to.

Taking a nap when she can’t meditate? Choosing not to go out to brunch again after a full day of socializing? This is not just “okay” — it’s vital. Good for her!

That’s your new pattern. Saying ‘good for her!”‘ and then going fearlessly back to bed.”

*No, I did not put a link in the note. That was just for anyone who does not know that the pirate queen is actually me.

Item! I really, really don’t like making lists about “things you didn’t know about me”.

And I wish people would stop asking me to.

For one thing, you guys already know a ridiculous amount of things about me.

Also, most people’s lists of “X Things You Didn’t Know About Me” are not interesting.

They’re always full of astonishingly non-revealing things like “I like strawberries” and “my middle name is Elaine”.

Really? Because I didn’t know that about you, but I also don’t feel like I know you any better for it.

I tried. I really did. But there are only two things I would put on that list:

1. My filing system is organized by chakras.
2. If you had told me six years ago that I’d organize anything by chakras, I would have killed myself to prevent this from happening. Good thing you weren’t there.

Item! Writing some serious stuff.

I (finally!) got to meet Patsi Krakoff the other week at the Writer’s Retreat.

Man, what a neat lady!

And I have so stolen her genius phrase “sorry, that’s just past my brain time.”

Also, she’s hot.

This post about why laughter and community are important for the creative process was right freaking on:

“If you want to write good stuff for your business, you should consider laughing with other like-minded creative people.

Life doesn’t happen in a vacuum and your writing can’t get better alone or without laughing your butt off …

Even if you’re writing about the effects of gamma rays on mitachondria in the brain, your authenticity will shine through. Your writing will be better.”

She’s @Patsiblogsquad on Twitter.

Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar Shivanauts!

Hmm. Let’s see. I’m working on two posts but haven’t put them up.

In the meantime we’re not that peculiar but we are Shiva-ing it up like crazy. Twenty-two new Shivanauts as of last week. Whoo!

And that doesn’t count the twenty-six wonderful women I made practice with me at Jennifer Louden’s crazy Writer’s Retreat.

Also, I am ridiculously close to having the manual done, which means that soon the Advanced Kit will be available, which means that if you don’t own the Starter Kit yet, now is a good time.

Because the Advanced Kit will be less expensive for people who already own the Starter Kit. Just saying.

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 most amazing words to play with. Yes!

So I’m going to try it again.

Here’s what I want:

  • Things you’re thinking about.
  • A favorite word. Or words.

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.

The Fluent Self