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.
My annual Berlin Freak Out post: this time with extra … something.
Ah yes. This is me, freaking out about Berlin.
Actually, I love Berlin madly and obsessively so it’s not that. This is me freaking out about the fact that I’m on my way there and not ready for it. Again.
No, actually, this is me writing my “I’m freaking out about being on the way to Berlin” post.
Which is, apparently, an annual tradition.
If an annual tradition can be something you also did last year.
A bit about the annual tradition.
So it was more than a year ago. But only by a few months.
June 18, 2008 is when I wrote that post.
And then I wrote an open letter to my Twitter stalker burglar which was an unintentional useful exercise in Right People experimentation.
Because (going by email responses, comments and people’s worried quesitons), about half of my (admittedly small) readership thought it was hysterically funny and the other half didn’t really get that it was, in fact, mostly tongue-in-cheek-ish.
Though I’m pretty sure the comments from Snidely Whiplash and lolcat burglar are actually my brother. Who is, weirdly enough, just one guy.
Why this is kind of ridiculous.
This is my sixth teaching trip to Berlin. Seventh time in Germany. Fourth trip there with my gentleman friend.
We both speak German.
I know east Berlin like the back of my hand and he knows west Berlin like the back of his hand, and between the two of us and our impressive backs-of-hands … we could not be more at home.
Oh, and we have an amazing place to stay (remember Andreas who fetishizes my duck and sneakily got her into a poster that lives in the bathroom?).
Plus I have a fabulous fanbase of Shivanauts to do crazy-great workshops with, and Selma and I keep getting invited back to teach at the big Yoga Festival again (I’m thinking 2011?).
Short version: I love being in Berlin. That’s why I go there every single year for a month or so.
And yet … every single time. The freak-out of right before.
Why this is necessary. Or — if not necessary — why it makes sense.
I think because it sneaks up on me.
Never prepared.
And because Berlin also comes with its own share of baggage.
My ex is there. One of the hardest years of my life happened there. The evil ear infection (also hinted at here) the poverty, the hard.
And in addition to my history in a personal sense, there is still the history. Which is heavy and hard.
It’s a loaded place. And I’m highly sensitive and have weird intuitive abilities, so I pick up on a lot of old stuff. The buildings talk to me.
I have to do a lot of self-protecting stuff.
So it makes sense that this “ohmygod I’m about to be there” thing would happen every year.
And I’m sure next year I’ll have already shifted the pattern in miniscule ways and be freaking out at least three days earlier. Which, of course, is a good thing. But I’m not sure why. Lovely.
And, speaking of good things, the good things that make it all worth doing.
Berlin! My love! Being there is home in a really intimate, comfortable way.
If things go right my best friend Keren (whom I haven’t seen in four years) will be there.
Along with a bunch of other friends from Tel Aviv. I’ll probably end up speaking more Hebrew than German.
Also, cheese! Don’t even get me started on anything bread-and-cheese related. Roggenbrot! Butterkaese!
Not to mention cottage cheese with, oh, about 19% fat. Germany is hardcore. And I approve! Highly!
Oh, right, and all my favorite people. Like Andreas and Lars.
My wonderful students. The studios where I teach.
The point a few days or weeks into it all when my German is all of a sudden 100% back and I can just babble on happily for hours.
Drinking Carokaffee (embarrassing fake-coffee* made with barley and chicory) in my favorite cafe.
*When you haven’t had coffee in nine and a half years, faking it is pretty good, actually.
It’s part of the ritual.
Okay, so maybe at some point I’ll be able to have a ritual for this annual transition that doesn’t involve falling apart a little bit.
But where I’m at right now is working for me for now.
The noticing, the remembering, the permission, the reminding, the tuning-back-in to the thing that I need.
It’s all helpful.
Plus this post has been fun to write because I’ve gotten to re-read posts of mine from “way back” and think “Really? Was that me? My posts were kind of … stilted.”
And also, “Really? Did people really hardly comment on this blog? Where was everyone?”
I hope I’m not supposed to have a point.
Because it’s just me. Doing my ritual.
It makes me feel better.
Comment zen for today:
Please don’t try to cheer me up or calm me down. Or really anything up or down.
I also don’t want advice right now. Just be with me in the weird and the hard and the excited. That would be great. And I will update. Maybe even from my favorite cafe.
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.