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.
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.
Very Personal Ads #8: it’s extra meta on Planet Havi this week
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.
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 it!
Thing 1: Perspective.
Here’s what I want:
Things are pretty hectic on Planet Havi right now.
Teaching in North Carolina. Flying back to Portland. Taking off to Berlin.
Oh, and running a business at the same time. And writing a book. Wow.
So: I would like some tiny, sweet moments of quiet. Moments of grace, spaciousness, expansiveness.
Other than the ones that come during meditation or yoga or in the midst of the delightful whoosh of equal parts calm and chaos that is Shiva Nata.
Spaces. Breaks. Gaps. Little safe holes to crawl into.
Here’s how I want to get them:
Quiet little deguiltified reminders.
Or they could just show up.
Or I could remember to take them.
Or my gentleman friend could help me create intentional spaces for brief bits of not-doing.
Or? I’m open to possibility.
My commitment.
I will treasure these moments. I won’t wait until sickness or exhaustion make me take them. I will enjoy them even if they are brief. I will drink them in.
Thing 2: A blog post about Very Personal Ads.
Here’s the situation:
So I have been trying to write a post about these Very Personal Ads.
Well, about Very Personal Ads in general.
As a practice. As a concept.
About why this is not (for me, at least) an especially wacky practice. How (for me, at least) it has nothing at all to do with “law of attraction”-ey kinds of stuff.
Because people have questions.
And because they say stuff like “I didn’t know you believed in x, y and z” (I don’t) or “I don’t know how to make this work” (I do).
And the post is just not writing itself. And I can’t seem to get in the mood to write it.
I have lots to say about the topic. I just can’t write the post.
More about that:
It’s really important to me that people know they are completely allowed to have their own experience, whatever it is.
Because I have zero desire to dictate someone else’s experience or to impose my own Theories of How The World Works on them.
So if someone already has a life philosophy that’s working for them, awesome.
And at the same time, I want to give you guys the freedom to not have to subscribe to any particular reality theory to get big, crazy benefits from this practice.
And I want you to have tools that work, so that you can use Very Personal Ads (if that’s something that even kind of appeals to you) in a way that’s healthy and effective. And sustainable. And fun!
Ways this situation could resolve itself:
Maybe the post could write itself!
Maybe I could teach a clinic about how to create Very Personal Ads …
That could make it a lot easier to cover things like how to do it so it works. Or why it’s not necessarily a hippie spiritual practice, though it can be …
Maybe I can just give this time to gestate and stop trying to push a post that isn’t ready to be written.
My commitment.
I’m open to what comes up.
Willing to be surprised.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.
The server issue is resolving itself nicely. Tech Pirate Charlotte is doing her magical genius thing.
The money showed up. We’re good for now.
And I’m still working on the “receiving support in a variety of ways” thing. But the working on it is really helping me.
And on Tuesday, I received amazing resources of support from an unexpected source and it was really freaking cool.
Big crazy biggification stuff happening over here. And a lot of people are coming together to make it happen.
So I’m feeling good about it.

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 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 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! Doing the Very Personal Ads with you is one of the highlights of my week.
Friday Check-in #55: Blonde Chicken Chicken Chicken.
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
I’m in Tennessee! Whee!
Hanging out with Tara the Blonde Chicken and getting ready to teach three days of wacky brain training near Asheville, North Carolina.
Which is basically the best thing ever.
Doing the Friday Chicken while sitting with the Blonde Chicken.
It’s a Double Chicken! Chicken.
The hard stuff
Overworked. I mean, over-working.
I worked through the whole weekend.
By choice, yes.
There was a lot to do and I was excited about doing it and in the zone.
So I don’t regret it. But it meant a lot of tired and grumpy this week until I remembered that I had to suddenly kind of take a weekend in the middle of the week.
Which was annoying too. Because this week was crazy.
Monday.
Every once in a while, things converge in such a way that every single thing I don’t want to do needs to happen at exactly the same time.
I’m pretty sure Mt. Hood (which, by the way, I still don’t believe in) was in retrograde again.
Because Monday was the day. Phone calls I didn’t want to make. Bills I didn’t like. Conversations I didn’t want to have.
Blech.
Stupid little mistakes.
Things going wrong.
Little miscommunications.
Seriously, how did we manage to send two people the wrong DVD in as many weeks? How is it that I put in huge chunks of really good, focused work and still don’t get to the things that I actually want to do?
GRUMBLE!
Needing to rest.
Extra-schleepy. Not so much the functioning with the schleepy.
The good stuff
North Carolina! Shivanauts!
I have been looking forward to teaching this weekend of Shiva Nata Wackiness forever.
The plans! They are full of fabulous! The people! They are awesome.
The Shiva Nata! It is the bomb.
Very exciting.
Will fill you in more next week. But I am super happy about this.
My site is having a birthday!
The Fluent Self is four years old.
Though the colors and typefaces are the same and the basic layout is similar, it doesn’t look very much like it did then.
Wow. Four years.
That is the crazy.
Big changes. Many little steps. And but but but but.
So the huge thing this week was that I did something I’ve been wanting to do for over a year.
I turned the blog part of the Fluent Self site into the main thing — so that when you go to the site you get sent straight to the blog.
Because for the longest time it felt like I had this kind of serious, sober front door and a big, fabulous party hidden in the back.
And if you knew to come in through the back door, there was always mad fun to be had back here. But you had to find your way. So many people would just stand at the front door and then go away.
But I thought I had to have that serious front door to explain something about what I do. But though it wasn’t the right explanation any more, I hated to let good copy go to waste.
But but but.
And the truth is, all this not making the change was really (as my friend Janet says) about loss. And about recognizing that sense of loss.
There was just this part of me that didn’t want to change the beautiful site that my ex built for me.
And then … I was ready. And it happened. And I’m really happy about it.
I’m really appreciating my pirate crew!.
It’s not easy running a pirate ship. And I get so much help.
And I am feeling especially grateful for my wonderful First Mate Marissa Bracke who keeps so much stuff off my plate.
Also she helps me in my impossible practice of saying no, and even approves of me saying no.
Actually, she says things like:
Go-go gadget BOUNDARIES! (Wonder Twin Boundaries, Activate!) etc. etc. 🙂
Because she’s awesome.
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:
A Thousand Middle Columns
Me: “So then it’s like A Thousand Middle Columns.”
Ez: “Dude. I heard it’s just one guy.”
(Special thanks to Wendy Cholbi for this week’s band name!)
twitter link
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.
Why DO I charge so much? Part Two.
So last time we talked about how I can even think about charging for things (especially “when information should really be free”).
And I promised that I’d also get around to answering the people who want to know why my stuff costs what it does.
One more thing: I know you guys are super smart, so I probably don’t need to point this out, but …
These two posts aren’t (just) for the hurt-and-upset people who don’t understand why I charge “so much”.
They’re also a resource to help you feel safe standing behind your own prices, if/when these issues come up.

“Your stuff is probably good, but why do you charge so damn much?”
I really want to acknowledge how completely frustrating (and frightening) it is when you’re in a tough situation financially, you want something that can help, and you can’t make it happen.
If you hang out on the blog a lot and know a little of my history, you know I’ve been through some terrifyingly hard times of really having nothing. Times of not able to imagine being able to ever afford anything beyond (tfu tfu tfu) basic survival needs.
So I get how awful it it can feel to interact with someone’s prices, especially when your own situation feels completely desperate, and you really need to know that help and support is accessible for you.
It’s so hard.
And I don’t know if a post will help you or not. But here are some thoughts, in no particular order — you can use them or not use them as works for you.
Answer #1: sustainability
I’m not interested in running an “exchanging time for money” business.
If I did, I’d work a gazillion hours a week and then have to go have an emotional breakdown. It wouldn’t just be the occasional emergency vacation. I’d be a big freaking mess. All the time.
My duck would hate it. My gentleman friend would hate it. I would hate it.
That wouldn’t serve anyone. Not me. Not my Right People.
And my intention is to help as many of my Right People as possible — while still taking care of myself.
Answer #2: charging what I charge lets me help more of my Right People
Remember when I talked last time about how I give away nine hours of my time every single week here on the blog?
The stuff that is for sale here (which I totally don’t shove in anyone’s face — there’s a “here’s where you can get stuff” page and that’s about it) supports the entire business.
It allows me to write these posts. It allows me to give away tons of information and Useful Concepts.
It allows me to give stuff away — and give it gladly — in situations where my heart is really pulled to make an exception for someone who needs it.
Answer #3: I actually should be charging more
If I charged based on results, I would charge more. A lot more.
But again, it’s about serving my Right People, so I don’t actually charge what I could.
My superpower is zapping stucknesses. My clients regularly have breakthroughs that might otherwise have taken twenty years of therapy.
They say things like “ohmygod I feel fifty pounds lighter”, and that’s after the first twenty minutes of working on the stuckness.
So if I charged based on what people actually receive from my work, no one would be able to afford me until … after they’d done the work.
Which wouldn’t be very effective.
Answer #4: the hidden benefits of higher prices.
This kind of deserves its own piece. For now I’ll just point out that Mikelann Valterra of the Women’s Earning Institute argues that at least half the people who are interested in your services shouldn’t be able to afford you.
My friend Mark says that every time we have to stretch to commit to a transformative process, the act of stretching is useful.
And Naomi says you should double your prices every three to six months (or, alternately, every time someone writes to you complaining that you charge too much).
Because higher prices:
- function as a sexy red velvet rope to keep people out
- keep you from being overwhelmed in your business
- can help people make a stronger commitment to doing the work
And yeah, when the people who need your work have to make a big decision about whether or not they’re going to work with you — and maybe even save up for it over a period of time — they treat it seriously.
They’ll actually use the stuff you teach. Because they had to work to make it happen.
Answer #5: to encourage people not to hire you.
True, if you’re in the frustrating position of desperately hoping for clients, this seems like a pretty insanely weird thing to want.
But at a certain point in your business, you’ll want and need more time for your own healing/recharging process, and to figure out what needs to happen so that you can share your legacy with as many of your Right People as possible. You’ll need to biggify in a more mindful way.
And when that happens, you need to encourage your people to try other stuff first (like books and ebooks and programs and courses) instead of just hiring you just because … well, because they can.
And if your coaching and consulting rates aren’t prohibitive, people will keep hiring you. Which is not really what you want in the long term.
For me, it’s very useful that my rates are high enough that people think “you know, I’ll just take a class with her and Selma instead and maybe save up for a consultation later”.
It gives me time and space to grow my own practice in a healthy, sustainable way.
Answer #6: to find out who your Right People are
It’s not that all your Right People can necessarily afford you right now.
But if they’re your Right People, they feel the resonance.
They might not be able to hire you right now, but they want to be someone who can hire you eventually.
Your Right People believe in your work and what it can do for them.
Your Right People are more or less where you are on the sleaze-non-sleaze-kosher-marketing continuum.
So by definition, someone who is your Right Person will never challenge your prices.
Example: someone recently said that my blog would be good if it weren’t for the fact that I’m “constantly promoting my over-priced products”.
I’m going to go out on a limb and guess … not one of my Right People.
(Of course if I’m still worried, I can do the math. If I’ve written 338 posts and four of them were about upcoming classes or programs … hmm, we probably have different definitions of “constantly”.)
Your Right People are going to be kind and supportive.
Knowing that someone isn’t one of them gives you the freedom to not have to take their commentary seriously.
Answer #7: my Right People are willing to invest in themselves
You know what? Michael Port charges $1000 for forty-five minutes on the phone, and $5000 for a whole day with him. That’s a lot of money.
But it’s totally worth it. I know it is. Because I understand how the concept of investing-in-myself works.
And because when I paid close to a thousand dollars to take a seminar with him in Vancouver, I came home with a thirty thousand dollar idea and the confidence that I could implement it.
I also used his advice to hire Marissa to be my First Mate on the pirate ship, completely transforming my business. This also allowed me to go on email sabbatical, which is pretty much the best thing that has ever happened to me.
So I know that whatever I invest in studying with him will give back exponentially, both in terms of money and my emotional well-being. Yay emotional well-being!
I still haven’t put aside my five thousand dollars to spend a day with him, but it’s something I’m saving up for. It’s not because “he charges too much”. It’s because I’m still learning to invest in myself.
Answer #8: resonance.
I’ve written before about the art and science of resonant pricing.
If you read that article, you know two things:
- if you’re resonant with your prices, your Right People will be too.
- I get all of my prices from a meditation that I do, and I have other people do the pricing resonance exercise with me.
Which means? That I feel steady and comfortable in the price that shows up. And that if someone challenges my prices, that’s a clear sign that they’re not feeling the resonance. Which means definitely not one of my Right People.
So … why are my prices so high?
They’re not.
They do exactly what I want them to do.

Comment Zen for today.
What I’m not looking for:
- To be judged, psychoanalyzed or have shoes thrown at me.
- Criticism on the topic. It’s totally fine if you believe that it’s not worth engaging in discussion with people who ask why your prices are what they are. And at the same time, if I’m willing to have the conversation with people who sincerely want to know, I want to be allowed to have it.
What is welcome:
- Thoughts about my bigger theme of creating a safe space for your Right People, while keeping healthy boundaries so you don’t have to take on other people’s stuff.
My commitment.
I commit 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 possible.
Item! Holy shavasana, Batman!
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.
Wednesday!
I am in headless chicken mode again — getting ready to head off to North Carolina to teach a weekend workshop of fabulous wacky brain training.
So today’s Items! may be (Item!) a bit more chaotic than usual. If that’s possible. Which I don’t really think it is.
Item! Post No. 31 in a series that has pretty much become a tradition despite itself.
Item! Walking the path.
Remember Waverly Fitzgerald (Waverly!) who got me to name my moons and then you played with me? Wasn’t that beautiful?
I loved this post from her called The Path.
So sweet.
“My path is more like a maze. My work is five blocks south and three blocks west of my house. I haven’t really worked out the math but I figure there are probably at least 45 ways I could walk those blocks, depending on which block I turn at, and that’s not including the occasional alley (I love alleys).”
Her book Slow Time is such a favorite of mine, and she is an outstanding teacher. So smart and so kind and so curious and so full of play.
Love.

Item! I heart Christine Bougie.
You might know Christine Bougie if you hang out here a lot in the comments.
I’ve been listening to her music all week.
Oh. My. God.
The album is Hammy’s Secret Life and it’s fantastic.
She’s @christinebougie on Twitter.

Item! Don’t mess with Pisces!
Super interesting (and funny!) post from Shannon Bowman about her conversation with the Pisces moon.
She takes the wacky-talking-to-yourself stuff that I do and takes it somewhere completely new.
Of course, I know pretty much nothing about astrology other than that I like hanging out with Virgos (hi, Colleen and Mark and Hiro!). And that apparently I am the posterchild for pisces.
But the fabulous fish drawings knocked me out with their freakishly accurate description of my good and not-so-good traits.
And the post is still really great even if you’re not into any of this.
Pisces: “What do you always tell people about Cancer?”
Me: “Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside.”
Pisces: “Ok, good. Well, you already have the crunchy part covered, so you’re not ready to work on that yet. You have to get the middle part down first before you can put the shell on; otherwise you’re just empty inside.”
She’s @clover on Twitter.

Item! This is the best comment I have ever had the privilege of receiving.
It’s from the brilliant Wendy Cholbi (whom I adore) and she wrote it in response to this bit I wrote on the Shivanauts blog about the Retreat in Taos.
“Here’s a poem I wrote during the retreat (it’s a double dactyl, which is an eight-line poem with a specific syllabic stress pattern that makes it perfect for wacky observations — also the stress pattern helps me remember the correct way to pronounce “shavasana”):
Higgledy-piggledy,
Holy shavasana!
Dancing with Shiva is
breaking my brain.Molecules, neurons and
thoughts reassembling
into a radical
new kind of sane.I feel obligated to explain that there’s an implied “Batman” after the “Holy shavasana!” line. Because I always hear it in an excited cartoony voice in my head.
Time to submit this comment before I chicken out…”
I. Love. Wendy.
Holy shavasana, Batman!
She’s @wendycholbi on Twitter.

Item! Stuff changes.
So back in May (really? that long ago?) the fabulous Laura Fitton aka Pistachio and I taught a class about how not to be strategic.
And not in an ironic “ten ways to NOT succeed in business” sort of way.
Actually about the strategy of not being strategic. And how that is our sneakified way of being successful.
Specifically it was about using Twitter and social-media-ey stuff in a non-gross, non-overly-intentional way to have fun and get your thing in front of your Right People.
But without being (or feeling) icky or weird.
Anyway, we were going to raise the price back up to something semi-normal, and then we both got crazy-busy.
So. Last I heard, it was going up to the regular price of $64 on September 6.

Item! “What an extraordinary question!”
This post from Mahala Mazerov is so completely perfect.
Some questions are so outrageously inappropriate … that you don’t really have to answer them other than acknowledging that yes, they are … extraordinary.
What a great lesson.
“It makes a thundering statement while saying very little, and prevents getting hooked into any ugliness. Used skillfully, it cuts through so cleanly that nothing more needs to be said.”
She’s @LuminousHeart on Twitter.

Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!
The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.
I really haven’t been doing anything on the Shivanauts blog other than planning for Berlin and the two months of madness fabulous workshops to come.
Well, that and working on the manual.
But things are moving and shifting under the surface. Go-go-gadget-epiphanies! Or something.

Item! Comments!
I’m still having fun with the theme of words that are cool to say over and over again.
So let’s stick with that.
And anything you think I should be reading!

That is all.
Happy reading.
And happy Blustery Windsday. See you tomorrow.