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.

Naming the moon.

I’m reading the book Slow Time by Waverly Fitzgerald for … I don’t know, probably the fourth time.

If you don’t count all the times that I just pick it up and start reading a page or two.

It’s one of those “it lives by my bed” books. Just seeing the cover makes me happy.

And I got to do a teleclass with Waverly last week for my Kitchen Table program (we’re spending three months working on clearing up some stuff in our relationship to time).

It was pretty spectacular. She’s just as sweet and thoughtful as I’d imagined she would be.

Anyway. I wanted to do one of the exercises from her book with you.

Naming moons.

What I love about this exercise is the playfulness.

It gives you lots of space to appreciate markers of natural time … without having to necessarily challenge your functioning world that’s made up of artificial time.

It’s also about awareness. And about choice. And about noticing things. And about bringing some of you into the things around you.

And it’s about wordishness, which is pretty much my favorite thing ever.

So if Native American tribes would name full moons (Moon of Popping Trees, Thunder Moon, Moon of Storms) …

And there are Chinese names for new moons (Peony Moon, Harvest Moon, Kindly Moon) …

Waverly thinks we should get to create moon names too! Ha.

Her students have beautiful ones.

Like The Moon of Putting on Socks (October).

Or Firefly Moon for July.

I am going to try naming my moons.

The Moon-Names of Havi’s Year.

September: The Moon of Beginnings

October: Crunching The Leaves Moon

November: Red Boots Moon

December: The Moon of Doing Yoga Under Blankets By The Fire

January: The Moon of Being Pulled To Travel Somewhere Warmer

February: Contemplation Moon (but also Roller Derby Moon!)

March: Wishing Moon

April: Walking Moon

May: Barefoot Moon

June: Lilac Moon

July: The Moon of Berries Every Day For Breakfast

August: Porch Swing Moon

Do you want to play with me? Yay.

So if you want to share some (or all) of your results here, or just to describe some of what you’re noticing while doing the exercise, that would be so cool. And fun! And really interesting.

And then I won’t have to feel like I’m being all weird by myself.

Wheee! Play with me!

Item! Justify this!

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.

Brevity. Right.

This post was about a hundred items (Items!) long and I had to toss a bunch.

Shall we?

Item! Post No. 30 in a series that has yet to do anything to actually justify its existence.

Item! An itinerary for doing nothing!

It’s no secret that I’m madly in love with Kelly Parkinson (aka Copylicious Kelly) for all sorts of reasons.

But this post about just how profitable doing nothing can be is totally brilliant.

Even though she blames me for all sorts of ridiculous things.

“There are dealmakers who eat soup at their desks and work 15-hour days.

And then there are creators who take walks in the middle of the day, who dare to sleep a full 8 hours, who do absolutely nothing–strategically …

Because sometimes the best thinking happens after I haven’t thought about anything at all.”

Genius.

She’s @copylicious on Twitter.

Item! Painting is food for words!

Beautiful post (and a beautiful painting) from Christine Martell.

She talks about the connection between visual art and writing and how hard it is (even when we know that connection exists) to justify doing the thing that feeds us.

It’s a great post.

“Painting is food for my writing

Writing is hard. Paint flows.

Yet I find myself spending most of my days writing (or trying to), and not giving myself the space to paint or do other visually creative things.

I still fight the inner demons that judge the visual work as not really working, or just playing … I still battle the inner demons, the messages from other times, people, and places.”

She’s @cmartell on Twitter.

Item! Lagniappe!

Interesting post about why it’s silly to convince people (through your advertising and marketing) that they’ll be treated “fairly”.

“If the most your customer can say when he walks out your door is, “I was treated fairly,” your business is pitifully stale and you have virtually nothing to advertise…”

It’s really just worth reading though for the description of Fat Charlie and the delight he takes in making sure people get a little extra.

“Order ten pounds of potatoes and Charlie will happily toss potatoes onto the scale until it reads 10″ then he’ll find a particularly nice potato and place it on the top of the pile with a beaming smile and an exclamation of, ‘Lagniappe!'”

Lagniappe!

(I can’t even say that without being transported back to my favorite cafe in Vancouver where every day is a glorrrrrrrious day!)

Thanks to Ankesh who is @ankeshk on Twitter for pointing me this way.

Item! More stuff about retreating …

The lovely Amara Ann Bertorelli (whom I met at Jennifer Louden’s fabulous Writer’s Retreat) has been writing some sweet, thoughtful pieces about the retreat-ing.

And about some of the cool stuff she’s been processing.

Since this is something I’ve been meaning to do, it was super interesting to read.

Also, there is a lovely picture of all of us (I’m the 3rd from the left in the top row, sans Selma, and Amara is at the far right of that row).

“And in the midst of that, it hit me. If I can surrender to getting it totally wrong and not really knowing or caring what’s next during the dance, then I can probably do that in my life as well. Down with perfectionism! Down with uber-planning! Up with whatever!”

The woman can write!

And she’s @EdgyAngel on Twitter.

Item! Eating. Lunch. Alone. Together.

I loved this piece called Eating lunch alone together from Japandra (Sandra in Japan).
She’s just neat. Her blog is sweet and always interesting. And I just really enjoyed the feel of this. And the pictures.

“This is one of my favorite lunch places. I just realized I had no idea what it’s called – I just think of it as “the place with the yellow flags out front near the office.”

She’s @sandrajapandra on Twitter.

Item! Finding your Right People: the clinic.

Yes, we love Right People.

Because having them (and them having you) means that you don’t have to have a “target market” (ew ew ew ew) or be all weirdly promotional or anything.

Anyway, people have been asking about this. A lot.

And I have ridiculously strong opinions and all sorts of advice to give on this.

So Selma and I are doing a clinic. A figuring-out-who-your-Right-People-are-and-how-to-talk-to-them clinic.

It’s tiny. It’s cozy.

Fun will be had.

So I should give you a link, right? You can read more stuff about the Right People clinic here.

I imagine it will fill up insanely fast. Which is why I’m not promoting it. So that you guys (hello, my Right People) can find it first. Sneakified me!*

(Also you should read it because I am funny. And because there are some good resources at the end).

* EDIT: sorry, the clinic sold out within twenty-four hours. Apparently I wasn’t sneakified enough! Next time.

Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!

The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.

So Sandy (brand-new Shivanaut) had two or three epiphanies just from reading the first part of the first ebook. She blogged about them too.

She wrote:

While I am all about the epiphanies (I think… frankly, I’m a little shaken up and stunned!), you should put a warning label on this stuff. If I get 2 epiphanies just after reading part of the first ebook, what will happen when I actually start to learn this stuff? Will my head explode with wisdom and understanding?

And that just made me laugh.

I also posted on the Shivanaut’s blog about whether or not Shiva Nata has anything to do with avodah zarah (worshipping false gods), and about how I need your help with a title for my Shiva Nata manual.

And about some of the cool things that happened in Taos.

Quite a week, in short.

Item! Comments!

It was very 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 recommendations ever!

Here’s what I want:

  • Things you’re thinking about.
  • A fun word that gets even better when you say it over and over and over again.

My commitment.

I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say, and to interacting 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. And maybe at the Right People clinic? Because that would be the bomb.

EDIT: sorry, sorry, sorry, the clinic filled up within the first twenty-four hours — no more seats.

Why DO I charge so much? Part One.

So my first mate on the mad pirate crew has asked me to write a post about why my prices are what they are.

And I know it sucks for her because I’m on email sabbatical and she answers all my email … and she has to figure out how to respond.

Obviously the ones who are all “get the **** off the internet!” are pretty easy to ignore.

It’s more the ones who are hurting, who genuinely want to know why they can’t be part of Fluent Self-ey stuff. There’s a lot of sadness, a lot of resentment, a lot of confusion.

So let me give you an answer for why I charge “so much”. Or at all.

Actually, let me give you a bunch of answers. In no particular order. But in two different posts.

Today I’ll talk about why I have stuff that you can buy that actually, like, costs money.

And then, because I totally ran out of room, next time (or in a couple days) I’ll talk about why so much.

“But all information should be free! It’s icky that you charge for things that you know.”

Oh, sweetie. It sounds like you’re feeling really frustrated because you need to know that you’ll be taken care of. You know what? I also wish more information were free.

Here are some thoughts …

Answer #1: Huh. Interesting.

So I don’t know if you’ve noticed … I actually give away nine hours of my time for free every single week on this blog.

Writing five to six posts a week and responding to comments? Nine hours.

Mmm, and I also teach four no-cost teleclasses each year (like the Habits Detective call), and I often do freebies for other biggifiers or just random people that I feel like helping.*

* Oh, and there’s a free stuff page.

I give all of this gladly. It’s also all free.

There are thousands of people who have never bought any of my products who use this blog as a combination of therapy, coaching, business advice and a steady always-available source of general self-help-ey stuff.

And that’s awesome. As far as I’m concerned, that’s how it should be.

Answer #2: My information IS free.

A lot of the stuff that I actually charge for has to do with implementation, not with information.

How to use the concepts and principles I teach here, and apply them to the stuff going on in your life.

That’s the stuff I’ve spent the past ten years learning and mastering. It’s the thing I’m best at.

Answer #3: If I didn’t charge for anything, there would be no Fluent Self.

Actually, none of this would be here. None of the free information. Not even a website.

When I had a straight job (and that was only a couple of months because that’s how long it took me to realize that I’d rather go back to tending bar than go slowly mad in an office), I didn’t get a lot of writing done.

In fact, I didn’t get a lot of anything done.

Because every single non-work moment of my day was dedicated to not-falling-apart. Not sinking into the abyss.

I had to be in survival mode. So I wasn’t exactly in the position to be of help to anyone else.

So … if I didn’t have stuff for sale here on the blog, there wouldn’t be a blog. I would have a job-job that made me miserable, and all the cool stuff I know would be relegated to my own process of staying sane.

Or I’d be working in a bar and my time off would go to catching up on sleep.

It would be worse for me, obviously. But it would also be worse for you.

Answer #4: the sleaze-non-sleaze kosher marketing continuum.

When I started my business four years ago, I also thought it was awful that any teacher would have a “store”. My definition of a teacher was someone who gave freely and generously.

Then I looked at my own teachers and saw how hard it was for them to actually help the people they needed to help. Because they were struggling with this idea that taking money for anything was wrong — and also struggling with things like “rent” and “groceries”.

And I realized that — while yes, the whole “add to cart” language really sets off my ick buttons — you can’t devote your life to helping your Right People if you don’t have a way to let that life support you.

It’s the sleaze-non-sleaze-kosher-marketing-continuum — some people are always going to find my stuff gross, I’m always going to find other people’s stuff gross, and that’s just how it is.

Answer #5: socialism, baby.

Well, not really.

But the way the whole Fluent Self pirate ship stays strong and healthy is that some people buy my stuff so that other people don’t have to.

The more people invest in their own working-on-their-stuff process by taking my classes or buying products here, the more I can afford to give other things away for nothing or almost nothing.

Answer #6: the more I earn, the easier it is for me to give.

And not just to give, but to give generously and open-heartedly. Whenever I feel like it.

In fact, I never have to make that awful, depressing calculation of “will I end up feeling resentful if I give someone my time”, because the business pays for me to be a giving person.

And if I want my Shivanaut blog to sponsor a Roller Derby team, I can do it.

Answer #7: There are always going to be things you can’t afford.

When I started my business (and my entire rent for the month was about oh, $85 because I was living in that insane drag king semi-squat in East Berlin), I couldn’t really afford anything.

I’d collect my change to buy an hour at the cheapest Turkish internet cafe, and look at people charging what seemed to me to be unfathomable amounts of money for coaching.

And I wished I could afford their books or their programs, but I couldn’t.

So I dealt with it. It never even occurred to me to send them off an email saying “who do you think you are?” or to make snide remarks about them on Twitter (okay, this was pre-Twitter, but still).

Because I knew … that’s where I was. And I knew that I could choose to stay there. Or I could choose to start working on my stuff and get to the point where maybe, eventually, I could learn to be okay with receiving money for my work too.

And right now, there are still plenty of things I can’t afford. And I deal with it. Because taking responsibility for your own stuff (or trying to) is part of being someone who’s working on this whole “having an intentional relationship with yourself” thing.

Answer #8: providing an example is a really big deal.

People see what I’m doing here — teaching what I know, modeling what it’s like to try and have a conscious and not-excessively-cheesy relationship with yourself — and the coolest thing happens.

It inspires them to go out and do it too.

People start blogs. They open practices. They start teaching what they know. It’s the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

And even when they go deep into the scary where the walls and the monsters are, they remember that it can work.

They remember that my baby blog here pays rent for three people. Real rent, not unheated-hole-in-East-Berlin rent. And that’s without even taking on any advertising or sponsorship.

So if I can work through my own deep, painful “you’re not allowed to receive and you’re not allowed to be visible” stucknesses, and that can inspire other people to start healing theirs?

That’s a big huge freaking blessing, as far as I’m concerned.

So that’s a lot.

I guess my bigger point here is that you really are allowed to feel what you’re feeling.

Whether you’re the person who feels anxious and upset when other people charge for what they do, or whether you’re the person who feels resentful when other people question your right to make money doing what you do.

Feelings are always legitimate. They just are.

And whichever side of that equation you’re on (or wherever you are on the sleaze-non-sleaze-kosher-marketing-continuum), I just hope this is giving you Useful Stuff to work with.

Comment Zen

What I’m not looking for:

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.
  • Anything you’d want to add to this that might be useful for someone hurting.

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 in as compassionate and honest a way as I can stand.

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

The Fluent Self