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.

Imperceptible Movement

the majestic elephant-feet of a giant tree appear to be almost in motion

The majestic sun-dappled elephant-feet of a giant tree appear to be almost in motion…


Announcement & reminder about the ebook!

If you’ve already given to Barrington’s Discretionary last year or this year, you should have received my ebook (by email) on how I approach and plan my year, how I think about time and am in relationship with time. The feedback on this has been lovely and heartwarming, thank you!

And if you gave to Barrington but didn’t get it, I am so sorry if anyone fell through the cracks, please email me at my name at this website, Havi AT fluent self DOT com, with any emoji, and I will send it.

You can still obtain a copy for now, as a thank you when you give any sum to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund, and I hope you enjoy and find lots of clues in there!

AND! Blog subscription news!

Thanks to the sunsetting of Feedburner (RIP Feedburner), a lot of people have not been getting posts in their email anymore, and I apologize about that.

Here’s good news: If you were a confirmed subscriber, you’re probably seeing this post in your email account right now because we are using a new plug-in and supposedly everyone has been migrated over, so if that’s the case, hi, I missed you, and you don’t have to do a thing.

Though if you want to catch up on / binge-read essays from me from the past couple years, they are at fluentself.com/archive, the password is starlight, enjoy.

If you aren’t subscribed to posts but you want to be, you can click right here, or scroll all the way down to the footer and click on the orange RSS icon.

Doing that will pop up a new page on the Follow.It site that allows you to subscribe via email, via newsletter, or via RSS reader. (It says you can “expect 50 stories a week”, and yikes to that, but that’s a number they made up – it would be shocking if I post here more than once a week.)

Okay, that was a lot of housekeeping! Let’s do this. A breath for beginning. Here we go.

Imperceptible Movement

The tree

Cate asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, and the thing I wanted to do, other than see a person (Cate) for the first time in what felt like forever, was to set off on a pilgrimage to hug a particular tree.

Okay, fine, any tree. I was up for a tree-hugging mission of whatever form, but yes, there was a certain tree I have been day-dreaming about. I wanted to meet (and hug) this tree, and I wanted company.

The tree-hugging mission involved a hike, and thanks to Long Covid, I can almost never make a good guess about how much energy I will have, if any, but also:

I have been training for this.

Training for visiting a tree. Training for all of it.

Training for this moment

Now that I have been sick for twenty seven months, and it’s less a matter of “being sick” as a situation that I find myself in, and more “this is just my life”, I have been getting to know this version of me, learning about the ebbs and flows of existing like this: chronically ill and still here.

Trying to stay attentive, fluid, adaptable, curious.

Trying to channel whatever might help with figuring out what I need, while not judging myself for needing it – to the extent that this is possible, when is possible, and no, it is not always possible.

I will be honest

I will be honest: Sometimes I hate needing so much, both in general, and also regarding needing so much recovery time specifically.

What is possible for me and when? These are the questions, both in relation to what I might have energy to do, and how easily I am able to receive the answer that is.

That’s one part of the training. Asking the questions.

The next part

Staying receptive to the known information, and receiving the answer that is, not fighting the answer that is. That’s another part of the training.

Letting things change. One day like this, one day like that. What if this can be neutral input? And if it can’t, can I conjure some more compassion for myself until it can…

Staying hopeful, maintaining fierce hope in the face of [the many seemingly not-hopeful things], this is also part of the training.

The hope is not about recovery, because what’s that. The hope is about hope.

The hope is about hope

Hope as a way of being, hope as a resilience practice, hope for its own sake.

Maybe I won’t get better but maybe things around me will get better, and maybe I will get better at adapting, who knows, so many things are possible.

So many things are possible, miracles abound, I don’t know what I don’t know, and so I breathe and tend to the hope-sparks. When I can.

Hoping my way towards a version of me who can cope gracefully with the harder days. The me who loves the sea.

All this is a form of training.

What is possible

I have been learning more about what is possible for me (or might be possible) when, and what facilitates a state of [possible], and what preparation and recovery are required to support [possible].

A lot of it is stuff I’ve written about here already: recommitting to ritual and routine, doing so much less, doing less to get more.

Doing less while inviting in more presence, more intention, more compassion, more (or any) grace. Staying devoted to Loving Clarity, aka recognizing what is, but recognizing it with kindness towards myself.

A lot of it is building in more entry (rest) and exit (rest), and making peace with the idea that anything I do will send me back to bed for a while.

Small gains

Every day I walk and jog in my kitchen. I spend time on the balance board, do slow stretches, and backwards-walking. Practicing the art of small gains; assassin training on the micro level.

I know that I am so very lucky that my body agrees to do these things and mostly enjoys them.

Similarly, I know that I am lucky I already had a daily movement practice of decades in place to support me, a practice which miraculously preserved itself beneath the surface, even when I had to spend several months mostly in bed. A thanksful heart for all this.

I also train through not-doing

I also train through early to bed, resting as much as possible, practicing 10% More Relaxed, doing the peaceful, grounding, quieting things that help.

Each day, I say to myself: WE TRAINED FOR THIS.

Because we did.

Slow to the point of imperceptible

The tree was even more majestic and magical than I had imagined it might be when curiosity pulled me into its trajectory, and it was truly a delight to meet this tree and share many hugs.

The tree was enormous and serene, deeply rooted, arcing powerfully skyward, but its magnificent elephant-feet (pictured at the top of this post) conveyed a sense of motion, almost as if we’d caught it mid-step.

I liked the feeling of this, a sort of deeply grounded momentum.

As if the tree was drawing energy from the earth and moving itself. Moving itself! And moving so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, and yet, at the same time, moving with great power and conviction.

Great power and great ease. Imperceptible grounded movement.

Tree-style / assassin-style

Now there are some superpowers.

What would a tree do? Move imperceptibly, almost invisibly. Stay grounded and steady. Draw power from the earth.

What would an asssassin do? Move imperceptibly, almost invisibly. Stay grounded and steady. Draw power from the earth.

Movement is happening, even when I can’t see it

Isn’t it fascinating when things are changing/healing/moving/evolving, and we don’t realize it yet?

I find this reassuring. Movement is happening.

There is forward momentum, change is happening, good things are coming, the wishes are set into motion, moving with power and grace. It’s just a matter of fine-tuning my perception.

Entry / middle / exit / recovery / more recovery

Just as I had to come up with a plan of entry (rest first) and exit (rest to recover) to support my visit to the tree, everything requires a plan for resting before, during and after.

I am currently dealing with a fairly major family emergency. Flying is not an option because of a combination of issues most of which are health-related. So I need to drive across the country very slowly.

(Clarification! I will not drive slowly, I will drive at a reasonable and legal-ish speed; what I mean is that I can only do a few hours at a time, and might need additional rest days in between.)

Which means: I need a plan. A plan that involves a tremendous amount of rest and recovery, for the before, the during and the after.

The planning of a plan

But even the planning of the plan is something that wears me out, and it too requires resting up to be able to plan, and then resting to recover from doing planning time.

This feels almost ridiculous when I put it into words, except it’s also just my reality. My ridiculous reality.

Or as another friend calls it, the ongoing shitshow of magical unfolding.

What can I learn about Invisible Movement / Invisible Momentum

How do you plan a plan when you have no energy to plan, and when you physically can’t do that much? When there’s no way to know if one good day will be followed by another one?

I am invoking fractal magic: may each step be activating thousands of other steps, may the imperceptible motion on the surface be enacting deep waves on other planes of existence…

Patience (I Play The Long Game)

Similarly I am practicing patience, like a big cat: I Play The Long Game.

Patience, and trust in right timing. I am practicing Choose Calm, Choose Ease. Continually reminding myself about This Can Solve Itself.

Cherishing my wishes for a better solution, more ease, more grace, a third way, a new path, and placing them gently into the wish-cauldron.

Whispering about them to my tree-friends and the sky when I take evening porch-breaths.

Holding onto the hope sparks.

Working backwards, working forwards, moving imperceptibly

Working backwards and working forwards simultaneously.

What is one step I can take today?

Practicing within movement practice

Something I like to do when I am on the rug is imagining a pose, for example, a boat pose.

Then maybe I do it and maybe I don’t, but the work has already happened while I was in the imagining.

It’s endlessly fascinating to me that my body works just as hard while imagining doing it as doing it. You can imagine something so hard that sweat pours off of you before you have even lifted your legs.

Sometimes I can even learn more about the pose or the movement through the imagining than through doing it. It is in imagining that I realize how much I need to engage inner thighs, or remember to relax my jaw.

We trained for this, with imagination, and with imperceptible movement.

Imperceptible, again

Another thing I like to play with, in my movement practice which often resembles a stillness practice, is moving as little or as slowly as possible.

Sometimes I can make the movements so small that I feel them but they might not be visible from the outside.

An imperceptible movement practice. Like the tree.

Like a big cat stalking its new toy, I can be patient and wait in the grasses, I can be poised, I can play the long game.

What if there is great power in moving the tiniest amount, an imperceptible amount, but with clarity, intention, patience? Drawing power from the earth, moving deliberately.

Keeping on keeping on

This helps me with the work of keeping on keeping on, in the face of the many heart-breaking things. I am the big cat, I am the tree.

You can’t see the motion, because it is currently in the before, the stored up potential before the kinetic burst.

Or because it is happening at an imperceptible scale, but with fractal and cumulative results. One small invisible step for a majestic tree, one giant leap for a cougar. One small invisible step in imagination, exponential movement that will propel me across the country when I am ready.

Or something like that. This is what I am playing with in my mind and in my movement practice, as I am resting, slowly planning, resting, slowly planning, resting and recovering from slowly planning.

Moving slow, for a good reason

Here is a clue via this excellent piece of dialogue from Will Trent:

“How’s it going down there?”
“Moving slow, making good decisions.”
“See, that’s what you want from a bomb technician…”

Moving slowly and making good decisions feels so important, and I think it’s because it’s about being deliberate.

Deliberate

Deliberate is the quality I am trying to channel most as I work on remembering to Choose Calm Choose Ease, and make my way towards simple elegant solutions.

How can I be extremely deliberate as I figure out how to slowly and steadily move myself across the country for an amount of time and then return, without wearing myself out.

There is something beautiful and compelling to me in this commitment to slowness, to unhurried precision.

To be clear, it also scares me, but maybe that’s because it goes against the external culture of pushing and striving, things I can’t do anymore even if I wanted to.

The perfect answer

I also honestly think this delightful quote might be the perfect answer to nearly any question.

Of course it’s very rare that I speak to a person because I live alone in the wilds and am often resting, but I sincerely hope that the next time someone asks me how I’m doing or what I’m up to, I can remember to answer with: “Moving slowly, making good decisions”.

Like a tree, like an assassin who has trained for this, like a big cat, like a wise and cautious bomb technician.

Deliberate and steady. Deliberate and sure of myself, because I trained for this.

Moving Deliberately & Making Good Decisions Monday

Each day I try to practice moving even more slowly, even more deliberately. Making good decisions, receiving useful intel, adapting as needed.

What day is it? It’s Moving Deliberately & Making Good Decisions Day.

Being slow and steady.

Being deliberate means letting the routine hold me.

What is useful / good / treasure about Slow Deliberations

Deliberate = intentional.

Slow = giving yourself adequate time to perceive more / gather more clues / notice what you notice / feel what you feel / notice that you are feeling the things that you are feeling, and so on.

In a way, moving deliberately and slowly is like having dedicated time for therapy or for journaling or for a conscious movement practice.

In other words, it’s about conjuring a container of time for breathing, noticing, self-reflecting — a container of time when you won’t rush or be rushed, because it is not the nature of the practice to rush.

Slow is smooth and smooth is fast

I know I have referenced the book Momo before here, which I have enjoyed greatly both in the original German and in the excellent English translation.

There is a character who is a street-sweeper, and he explains that if you rush the sweeping, you feel stressed and it takes longer, but if you go breath by breath, breathe-and-sweep, the road almost sweeps itself.

Slow is smooth and smooth is fast. Slow is present and engaged, and progress happens while you aren’t looking for it. There is a dance of Swift & Slow. But it starts with slow.

Just as my own movement practice yields gains even though often it looks as though I’m barely moving at all. I’m training. For this.

What else is good about Slow Deliberations?

For one thing, you can’t accidentally talk yourself into a decision that is not true to you if you are slow in your deliberations, if you keep asking questions and looking for the path of Choose Ease.

I know I can’t be rushed, not just because I don’t want to be, but because I will physically collapse if I try to do too much.

Adapting to this, and watching other people in my life struggle to adapt or even to remember that it’s happening to me, is its own form of training.

Either way, here we go

Either way, I’m moving slowly and deliberately, channeling tree-powers and fractal motion, moving with great intention.

Training and moving, training and imagining, training and breathing, training and wishing.

Let’s play with invisible and imperceptible motion!

Some ways we can practice and play:

Wishing wishes, into the wishing cauldron, into the pot. It is brave and beautiful to wish, to be present with the wanting, it can be a vulnerable admission to let ourselves want.

Using proxies: if it’s too hard or sticky or potentially painful to wish a wish, can we name a playful, silly, semi-imaginary goal and find out what steps we would take if that were our wish?

In actual movement practice: a clue walk, or any slow, small and symbolic movements. Gathering power, moving from the earth, it doesn’t need to be visible to be powerful.

Journaling and stone skipping, asking questions of a Slightly Wiser version of you, or the you who has already found the answer or taken the next step…

Doing anything that supports the training: hydrating, for example. Nap on it, dance on it, cry on it, rest on it.

What are the superpowers

I am calling in / on / up the powers of:

This is all in the hands of the sky, nothing for me to do here except light candles, choose calm, choose ease, and put it into the wishing cauldron with love…

The cowboy abides, we stay tough and do chores on the ranch, keep it moving, find beauty and any joy sparks.

It solves itself

If moving is where the ease is, what gets me moving? What supports movement?

Can I remember to let myself need what I need and want what I want.

How am I doing? Moving deliberately, making good decisions, asking over and over for Loving Clarity.

Remembering that this can solve itself, simple and elegant solutions are on their way. It might feel like they are moving imperceptibly, but they are on their way. Can I trust in the powers of deliberate imperceptible motion?

The solutions move towards me, I move towards them.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, or anything that helped or anything on your mind. I am lighting a candle for all of it.

Or anything you’d like to toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind (come to heart?), let’s support each other’s hope-sparks and wishes…

Thank you to everyone who reads, porch breaths, the winding path, the many clues that land when they land, receptivity, keeping on keeping on.

New ebook alert!!!

Aka fun bonus material on how I relate to time and map out my quarters for the year.

Anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary this week (see below) will get this by email as a pdf!

A request

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Between Long Covid and traumatic brain injury recovery, things are slow going.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

A scintillation of light / Backwards and forwards in time

blue sky with dramatic zigzag cloud patterns

When I remember to look up, I get to enjoy this high magic sky with all its shifting cloud art


Announcement & reminder about the ebook!

If you’ve already given to Barrington’s Discretionary last year or this year, you should have received my ebook (by email) on how I approach and plan my year, how I think about time and am in relationship with time. The feedback on this has been lovely and heartwarming, thank you!

And if you gave to Barrington but didn’t get it, I am so sorry if anyone fell through the cracks, please email me at my name at this website, Havi AT fluent self DOT com, with any emoji, and I will send it.

You can still obtain a copy for now, as a thank you when you give any sum to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund, and I hope you enjoy and find lots of clues in there!

Scintillations of light / Backwards and forwards in time

Backwards in time

I have gone backwards in time, in the very specific sense of scrolling, all the way back, to the very first episode of a podcast that began in 2018, back then, before.

Before the everything and the all of it. Simpler times but we did not know that, because it felt like extremely complicated times, at the time.

The podcast is called Obscure, it’s by Michael Ian Black, and the first season begins with him reading the book Jude The Obscure, by Thomas Hardy, which I have never read and neither had he, and apparently neither have most people, which seems appropriate.

Every time I tell someone that this is what I’m listening to, they say huh I never read that, and yes, that’s the point, you’re in good company, the time is now. Or later!

Though really more

That’s the concept! And it’s…what it sounds like, more or less, though really more.

Michael Ian Black reads the book out loud, which is a delight. I forgot how much I enjoy being read to. And he comments on the book as he goes.

He talks about obscurity, in general, as a theme, and does some voices.

There are detours. I love detours.

*There are also ads, and I do not love ads, but I fast-forward through them (do people still say that? I come from the analog times, speaking of the past), and obviously I understand that everyone needs to find a way to make money and stay alive in this bizarre trap we are all in, so: just letting you know.

Back to the detours, as a concept, and as a way of path-finding.

I love detours

So far I have recommended this podcast to at least seven people, though now more since I am telling you about it here, and what I tell them is that this show is more thrilling than it sounds when you describe it

At this point, I have listened to six episodes and am enthralled. Can’t stop thinking about it, which is extra surprising, because this is the exact category of you could never have imagined you needed this but you do.

Also it is ADHD heaven, a delight of rabbit holes.

He follows threads where they take him, and it is fun to go on small adventures with someone, and then, whether I agree with his conclusions or not, I invariably find my own threads to follow either way…

Who disliked the sight of changes

My first clue showed up, entirely unexpectedly, right at the beginning, in the second paragraph of Jude the Obscure.

“The rector had gone away for the day, being a man who disliked the sight of changes. He did not mean to return till the evening, when the new school-teacher would have arrived and settled in, and everything would be smooth again.”

Who knew that a book written in 1894 could sum up the current situations so immediately, so concisely, with such elegant precision.

The sight of

My hope in putting on the podcast was that it could potentially take my mind off of a stressful situation I find myself in, and of course it brought me right back there.

A family member spent the month of January in urgent care, which was terrifying and anxiety-inducing; I couldn’t be there because my own health issues make travel impossible.

Now back home, rattled by the experience, they have embarked on the process of downsizing, and somehow this has turned into me being in charge of downsizing from afar.

And what I keep trying to explain to everyone involved is that this is a person who is positively allergic to change.

Ask Thomas Hardy

Except people do not take me seriously when I say this; everyone says something like, yes, yes, who isn’t, as if this is simply a universal way of being.

And, to be fair, it is. To some extent.

But there are people and there are people, and some people have a harder time with change than the normal amount of having a hard time with change, even though everyone around me is pretending this isn’t true.

It is true. Ask Thomas Hardy.

They can’t bear to be there to observe it

As Thomas Hardy himself understood and emphasized in the second paragraph of this serialized story, from all the way back in 1894, speaking of going back into time, there are people in this world who dislike the sight of changes more than your average person dislikes the sight of changes.

In fact, there are people for whom the sight of change is so unbearable that they simply cannot be present for it, they don’t even want to be around it, which is different than just not liking when things change.

There are people who don’t like change in the way that no one likes change (though personally, sometimes I crave it and at other times resist it), and there are people like the rector who simply have to remove themselves from the situation, because it is too distressing.

They will return when everything is smooth again, per Thomas Hardy.

Everything changes

And we react how we react.

Some people need more time to adjust. Some people need to physically remove themselves from what’s happening, and come back later when everything is smooth again, though now of course we find ourselves in such especially un-smooth times, so who knows when that will be.

But I found it comforting that the rector is this sort of person, and even more comforting that Thomas Hardy acknowledged this, because, as I said, I seem to be spending a lot of my time trying to convince people that their friend (my relative) has more difficulty with changes than the rest of us.

And they seem to think that I don’t understand how change is hard for all of us. Which it is.

It really is

Changes, whether the kind we might be able to anticipate, or the kind that take us entirely by surprise, are challenging and often extremely uncomfortable, I’m definitely not arguing that.

I’m right here still reeling from the changes in my own life brought on from the pandemic, and from my concussion, which was followed by Long Covid.

In fact, I’m still reeling from changes that barreled into my life over twelve years ago, when my beloved mentor announced a lawsuit against me, still reeling from a relationship-shattering revelation in 2017..

Time

I find myself still doubled over in pain from wounds that feel agonizingly of the moment even as the calendar tells me that much time has passed, and continues to do so.

So I would never argue that change is not hard or scary; if anything I absolutely understand how thoroughly it can confound, how devastating and debilitating it can be.

Also, if you are not neurotypical, and you, like me, exist mostly outside of time, the then and the now can get extra mixed up emotionally, I’m sure there’s a better way of explaining that but I can’t.

Back to the rector

It’s just that some people are the rector, and this person in my life is one of them; he would prefer to not be around for change while it is happening, or acknowledge it in any way.

And in this case he cannot remove himself from the situation that is changing, because it is his life/body/mind/home, and they are all changing at once.

Trying to be with that, and be patient with all aspects of that, even though I too, like the rector, would prefer to remove myself from this whole project entirely, only to return once things have somehow, mysteriously, smoothed themselves.

Self-smoothing

What would it be like for things to smooth themselves, to smooth themselves along, smooth themselves out, do the work of soothing-and-smoothing without me.

I am dropping this into the wishing cauldron, as another form of It Solves Itself.

Though also there is something of a contradiction here, for is it not the job of the rector to be the one in charge of smoothing situations that require smoothing?

Let’s call a wise friend (the internet)

I will be honest with you, I am not entirely sure what a rector is, a word I mainly know from Agatha Christie mystery novels, so I am looking it up.

According to google, the rector is the priest in charge of a parish, the ecclesiastical authority of the parish…

So, yes, a spiritual leader, the one who should realistically be modeling presence in this situation and instead chooses absence? Is that a dig at the rector for being bad at rectoring? I do not know.

I am sitting with this too

Obviously I am not going to judge the rector for doing exactly what I would want to do in this situation.

And of course, to every thing there is a season, which is from Kohelet, and I never remember how to say that in English but I looked that up too, and it’s Ecclesiastes.

A time for being present with the changing changes, and a time for recusing yourself until the situation smooths itself while you are away.

That’s not in the text, not in Jude the Obscure and not in Kohelet, but you know what I mean.

Beneath the skies

To all things a season, and a time to every purpose (purpose? object?) beneath the skies. There you go. That’s my overly-wordy translation of the Hebrew, though not as overly-wordy as it could be.

I don’t love how under heaven sounds, which is how it’s usually translated — now that seems overly wordy, not to the point. So much drama.

It’s trying too hard to be poetic, while the actual words are beautiful in part because they are so simple.

The point is

The point is, back to the rector in Jude the Obscure, and to the person who needs to empty out a house after fifty two years of accumulating belongings…

There is a time for being present with the hard thing that is hard, and there is a time for elegantly disappearing until the situation smooths itself out, and who am I to say which one is called for right now.

Sometimes both are the practice, though maybe not at the same time, that could be tricky. Though yes, sometimes we can bring some presence to our escapism, or some relief to the practice of presence.

All I know is that what always helps (for me) is to be patient and pay attention. It helps if I remember to ask for or otherwise channel some Loving Clarity.

Add Compassion & Stir.

People vary!

People vary.

If you know you are someone who dislikes the sight of changes, in Hardy’s words, then it might help to just make room for that.

Or if you welcome changes but feel trepidation about how to go about that, okay, that’s the season we are in. Change is happening, and we get to feel about it however we feel about it.

Rainy season

There’s another really great podcast that you might already listen to if you speak Hebrew.

It’s called Shir Echad (One Song), and it’s a highly-produced and impressively well-researched show, and I cry at least three times per episode, though I have kind of been going through a lot lately so your crying mileage may vary.

Anyway, each week they deep-dive into one song, and it’s always fascinating.

This week they covered Geshem Beito (Rain In Its Time) by Ruthi Navon, from 1974, a song I have heard dozens and dozens of times in my life, and never really had any thoughts about it that I can recall.

Other than the thought that Ruthi Navon can SING. What a voice, what a talent.

Not about rain

They shared a marvelous clip of Talma Alyagon-Rose, who wrote the text to the song, laughing somewhat bitterly about how radio stations always play her song when it rains.

She was like, listen, it’s not a song about rain.

And it’s not.

About time

And it’s not; it’s a song about how war steals everything good in life, how it takes away the time that should be given to experiencing love.

It’s also a heartfelt prayer for the rain to be exactly what it needs to be as it comes; a blessing for the crops, a light touch on your lover’s face given to them in your name while you await their return…

It relates again to this seasonality, the rain comes it its season, and sometimes it’s miserable and sometimes it is what is needed, but either way, here it is, so let’s ask it to be a messenger of sweetness.

Sad and not sad

It was a sad episode and very moving episode, and also funny in parts.

I was astonished to learn that Ruthi Navon nailed it on the first take, so much so that one of the producers described it as if she was almost rewriting the song while singing it, through her musical improvisations, inventing a new song that was even better through revealing what no one knew could be there.

The song is on youtube if you want to listen.

Process

Mainly I was fascinated by listening to someone describe their writing process and having the meaning dawn on them later.

This is the writing process of someone who writes entirely in metaphor but only much later realizes what she was writing about.

This is extra funny when you consider that she has a philosophy degree, and extra funny to me when I consider that I also do this, pretty much constantly, often unintentionally and sometimes even very intentionally, when I play with proxies…

Sometimes I write about something and even at the time I realize I’m writing about something else, but then later I go back to it and realize that what I thought I was hiding from myself three layers deep, is actually just a clue about what was hiding seven layers deep.

Welcoming frivolity

This is why it’s so useful to write about (or do art about, or go for a walk about, etc) something you think you don’t care about at all, because it can reveal so much about what is truly important to your heart.

I am a huge fan of journaling about frivolous topics, the more frivolous the better.

Today for example, I am writing about a podcast I listened to, and the other day I journaled for an hour about muffins, because I had to process something about betrayal and despair.

Bonus: I found a great muffin recipe.

The power in playing at the edges

There is so much freedom in not directly addressing the issue, so much freedom, so much ability to play and reveal new information, and maybe also there will be muffins.

No need to force yourself to jump into the deep end of the scary thing. We can just wander around the garden path and do some reconnaissance, appreciate the view, possibly have a muffin.

This is why sometimes it is useful to be the rector, especially if you do this intentionally.

Go somewhere else, see what you notice. Last week we talked about clue walks, and removing yourself from a situation can be a form of Go Forth And Bring Back Observations…

Changes

On Sunday, I surprised myself by having a good day for the first time in ?????; I remember thinking to myself, today was such a lovely day for me, and then reveling in the newness of that.

I tried and was unable to remember the last time I’d had a thought like that, or if I did then it was a lovely day despite all the challenges, but this day was just lovely, seemingly for no real reason.

Then the next day I went careening into the Pits Of Despair, also for no real or apparent reason.

I received a decision that I thought would lighten my stress, and it did not. The things that had brought joy the day before were no longer bringing joy. It happens.

Remembering what helps, even when it doesn’t

Even when I couldn’t make my way out of the Pits of Despair, I was able to hold onto my rope ladder, is it woven of the wisdom of having been here before?

For example…

  • a surprise lovely day can come again even if right now I don’t believe it can, the science shows it can
  • everything passes, including the big despair
  • even if the things that help aren’t helping yet, that doesn’t mean their cumulative effect won’t kick in later
  • I can skip stones or go for a walk with the me who is past the pits and knows what I need
  • lighting a candle for all the Bravery & Tenacity powers
  • remembering that hope in the face of hopelessness is revolutionary
  • it’s all neutral, even when it’s not
  • I can find beauty in the unexpected places, I’ve done it before

And somehow, by evening, I felt mostly better again even though I didn’t think I would.

Beauty in unexpected places

Okay, check out this line from Chapter Four of Jude the Obscure:

…a watch-chain that danced madly and threw around scintillations of sky-light as its owner swung along upon a pair of thin legs and noiseless boots.

Scintillations of sky-light.

Striking

Isn’t that a striking image?

Isn’t that a gorgeous combination of sounds and words?

Scintillations of sky-light, I love this so much.

I am reminded of hope-sparks and hope-glimmers, which we all need in these scary and heart-wrenching times.

Now also thinking of a prism which refracts light and casts it on the walls where we perceive it as a rainbow…

Glimmer-related research

You will not be surprised to learn that I went down a rabbit hole about scintillation of light, a scientific concept, the light emitted when ionizing radiation is the source of the energy.

I also learned that the first device which used a scintillator was built in 1903, almost ten years after Thomas Hardy wrote about these scintillations of sky-light.

What a cool word!

Scintillations of

Scintillation is about brilliance and sparks, glinting and glittering, reacting to the light, a brightness that sparkles.

If I imagine that I am following a path and there are milestones, what if these are gem stones that emit scintillations of light, glimmer-cairns, star-markers…

The light was already there, I just needed to perceive it bouncing off of these faceted surfaces and find the beauty again, the High Magic in the ordinary, and the reminder that the pits are not separate from the path.

I didn’t get lost at all. I went in to come back out, and to remember.

Magic

The sky outside my door was especially glorious the other day and I sent a picture of it to my friend who said, “We are in magic!!! Oh, that I could only remember that every moment!!”

And that’s such a summing up of the human experience, just constant remembering (if we’re lucky), and forgetting, and then re-remembering (if we’re lucky).

If we’re lucky

Sometimes I think most of what I do is just to help me slow down enough to remember more, but for sure the forgetting is part of the remembering, and therefore part of the treasure even though it feels like not-treasure.

And of course the very next day, there I was, back in the pits of despair, having forgotten again.

All that to say that many things can be true and taking place at once, the magic and the forgetting and the excavating and the waiting.

Maps of

If you ever watched the show Prison Break, then you know about the thrilling feeling of:
“You’ve seen the plans?”
“Even better, I designed the plans…”

I like to regularly call on all related superpowers of Even Better, I Designed The Plans.

Of course my plan is pretty much generally the same: find beauty in the unexpected places (or the very expected places, like outside my door), do the things that help, remember that every crisis offers up its own solutions.

I don’t have to like any of it, but eventually there will be something useful here too, from the crisis…

There will be

There will be something useful here, there will be some unanticipated treasure.

There will be a scintillation of light, there will be hope-sparks and hope-glimmers, the rain is here in its time, I will remember my way back, I will remember something that helps…

Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forwards, sometimes you have to take what feels like the long way. What an adventure!

A time for

There is a time or times that ask us to be brave and to be present when we can be present, as much as we can, and to reach out and extend a hand if we can.

And there are times when we might have to remove ourselves from a situation for a bit and let things smooth themselves out while we adjust, or while we wander and look for clues.

Anyway

I gave my fifty minute hour to thinking about a podcast I like, and got some clues about why I might be feeling what I’m feeling.

Another thing I noticed was that sometimes I use a podcast as a way of puttering towards something, and that something often ends up being the creative process, or a therapeutic process or both.

Like the rector, I removed myself from the situation, and then that invited me to do some clearing of the decks, slowly but surely. Maybe the situation hasn’t smoothed itself out yet, but some adjusting happened.

Also thinking about how It Takes As Long As It Takes, but what if that’s a good thing or what if I can be neutral about it…

The meeting of the sky appreciation club

Looking up: things are looking up, and so am I.

Doing some more of whatever helps most, sometimes going backwards on purpose, a breath and another breath, staying oriented towards pleasure…

There’s a time for that too, out here, beneath the skies.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, or anything that helped or anything on your mind. I am lighting a candle for all of it.

Or anything you’d like to toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind (come to heart?), let’s support each other’s hope-sparks and wishes…

Thank you to everyone who reads, porch breaths, the winding path, the many clues that land when they land, receptivity, keeping on keeping on.

New ebook alert!!!

Aka fun bonus material on how I relate to time and map out my quarters for the year.

Anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary this week (see below) will get this by email as a pdf!

A request

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Between Long Covid and traumatic brain injury recovery, things are slow going.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

Go forth and

steaming hot soup in a white ceramic bowl with a brass spoon

Delicious & nourishing: steaming hot soup as a form of devotional practice and clue-finding…


Announcement & reminder about the ebook!

If you’ve already given to Barrington’s Discretionary last year or this year, you should have received my ebook (by email) on how I approach and plan my year, how I think about time and am in relationship with time. The feedback on this has been lovely and heartwarming, thank you!

And if you gave to Barrington but didn’t get it, I am so sorry if anyone fell through the cracks, please email me at my name at this website, Havi AT fluent self DOT com, with any emoji, and I will send it.

You can still obtain a copy for now, as a thank you when you give any sum to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund, and I hope you enjoy and find lots of clues in there!

Go forth and

It takes as long as it takes

I was listening to this Selected Shorts interview, Meg Wolitzer with Denis O’Hare, I put it on to distract me while the soup was heating up, so I could think about something other than how much I was looking forward to the soup (a lot).

What a delight, what an excellent choice, I love when I do something for seemingly frivolous reasons, and it yields something I never could have anticipated.

Familiar

Denis O’Hare was talking about something that is so familiar to me: when you have done something for so many years that it becomes difficult to break it down in such a way that you could describe to someone else how you do it, because it’s mostly if not completely automatic.

That is a phenomenon that encompasses many things…

Paradoxically, part of [not-teaching, but something adjacent to it] involves some elements of describing, or at least demonstrating that indescribable thing you wish to convey. Or the thing others wish to learn from you but you can’t explain it…

For me personally this can be extra tricky, because often the not-a-teaching that I am trying to convey is something that is by its nature mostly invisible — for example: the ongoing practice of Add Compassion & Stir…

Not-teaching but something adjacent to it

As you probably already know, I am team modeling > teaching; I would rather live something in way that is visible than explain it, but hey, sometimes we do both.

And as much as I am disinclined to be the person at the front of the room or at a podium, because I would always rather just be playing with everyone as equals in a delightful game that is not about winning and is only about playing…

I will allow that it is sometimes useful to be able to explain what you are doing. Even if you’re only explaining it to yourself as an experiment.

Go out and

Denis O’Hare mentioned that back in the day, an early acting teacher of his had once given him the instruction to “go out and bring back observations”.

Go out and bring back what you noticed while you were out on this mission of noticing things.

And then, presumably, you practice it, learn from it, embody it, play with it, tinker, refine, and so on…

I love this as a practice, it reminds me of clue walks.

What is a clue walk

A clue walk doesn’t have to involve walking at all, although it can.

It is any form you might use to look-or-wander through your space or through a place (including taking yourself for a walkabout, if you are able to and you feel like it) with this mindset of noticing.

Curiosity, attentiveness, receptivity, observation, these are the superpowers of a clue walk as a practice.

Wonder is a delicious and enticing quality too, if you are able to channel some of that, though no worries if not, it might surprise you and show up on its own.

What is a clue

Anything that sparks or draws my attention is or can be a clue.

The clue walk is an invitation to turn up attentiveness and see what I am drawn to…

Observing puts you in relationship with the clues

Observing puts you in relationship with the clues.

By noticing something, you are changing how you are in relationship with it.

You can also interact with the clues you find in a more conscious or intentional way, for example by asking them directly what they know or have to show you, whether related to a current situation or just in general.

This is a great journaling question or stone skipping question. Clue of X, what would you like me to know?

I have written about clue walks here before…

For example, in:

These are all good places to get more ideas or information, or you can just take a two minute clue walk in your space right now, even just by looking around you…

What are the elements of Go Out And

There is the Embarking, the Setting Forth, whether this is a physical action or a moment of deciding.

There is the meandering, the long middle. This is where you notice what you notice, and maybe here there can be some anxiety (what if I don’t find a clue, what if I don’t find what I’m looking for, what if I already missed it), and noticing the anxiety can also hold clues.

Usually our worries about one thing can shine light about our worry patterns about everything else, aka how I worry about anything is generally how I worry about everything…

Or maybe it isn’t, and that could be a clue too!

Then there is the noticing of observations, and of course there is the Bringing Them Back.

Letting the clues surprise you

Listening to Denis O’Hare took me to his website where I discovered several things I did not know, first that he is a terrific writer in addition to being a talented singer and actor.

I also did not know that we share a Michigan childhood, which could also be why I like his voice so much, so often when I have the conscious thought that I love someone’s voice, it later turns out that this person with the voice was a Detroit kid.

And then that he, like me, loves a geodesic dome. Who knew.

An obsession with round spaces is a lovely thing to share with someone, and it is always good to be reminded how I feel about the way things can echo and reverberate.

And then I kept looking, for one more clue

It was a craving, just one more clue! And then I found it, when he said, on the topic of writing:

”Stage directions have to be sexy.”

And he said this, too, which feels related:

”I love the feeling of a character appearing and telling me who she is. I love when scenes meander away from my control. I love when I re-read something and it makes my spine tingle because it is alive.”

Yes, there it is, the next clue

Yes, me too, I also love when my writing meanders away from my control, when a theme or an idea-spark takes on a life of its own.

This might be why I clue-walk, this might be why I do everything, to be deliciously surprised.

What if “go forth and bring back observations” is itself a sexy stage direction? A suggestion, an imperative, a description, a quest…

What if being deliciously surprised is a worthy pursuit on its own?

Anything else about clues?

I wanted to mention specifically that clues are either neutral or kind. They are not mean.

So if you think you got a clue about how your messy desk means you’re a disorganized loser, for example, that sounds like monsters, aka the voices of internalized criticism that can show up in our unconscious, ways we have learned from the world to motivate ourselves through stress or abuse.

But even as we notice a monster-story (good job for noticing!), we can still use our powers of observation to find a kernel of beautiful neutral truth inside of it.

A kernel of beautiful neutral truth

In the example I gave about the cluttered surface, maybe the clue is noticing that you crave a clean slate and more spaciousness for your work…

Or maybe it’s the opposite, and you are able to notice that you actually thrive when there’s some good creative chaos, and you can give yourself some permission and spaciousness to just thrive how you thrive!

Good noticing, either way. Noticing is a win.

Where else can we bring back observations

Obviously from out in the world, and from out in nature…

But also I can go on a clue walk in my inbox, or among my open tabs.

Clues exist in a pile of papers or a pile of dishes. Clues live in a project I started and put aside because it wasn’t the time, or because of [reasons].

Sometimes the clue is about a desire, sometimes a clue is about approach, sometimes the clue is in remembering the wisdom of You Win Some, You Win Some Later.

What clues am I finding in my open tabs right now?

So many linguistic-related rabbit holes! I love words so much! I am always looking something up to find where it comes from, or to help me translate something from Hebrew if I have forgotten a word in English, or vice versa.

And then I end up with twenty tabs that are just about words.

Many of my tabs are music-related, a song I fell in love with, an artist I want to know more about.

What can I learn about myself (again, with a compassionate and generous outlook, channeling Loving Clarity, not in terms of monster-narratives) when I take in the many open tabs?

And can I close some and still honor the true clues, which tell me that I am a curious person who is fascinated by the world and by sounds, and by how things connect and overlap. Can I say thank you for this clue, and then trust that I will find it again, or something better? Maybe!

Go forth and

Go forth and wander, meander, soften, maybe let yourself (or your eyes) relax, maybe even get to ten percent more relaxed

Go forth and observe, notice, laugh, practice, play, gather, disperse, release…

Go forth and find some pleasure, take some pleasure, enjoy something if you can.

Can I go forth and rededicate myself to these micro-joys, to these small practices of finding treasure in the clues?

The soup

Over the weekend I made a big pot of soup stock from various vegetable scraps in my freezer (onion, shallot, parsley, can’t remember what else) along with bay leaves, some chiltepin peppers, peppercorns and whatever spices I felt drawn to.

Froze some, used some to cook rice, which I also recommend, and decided to turn the rest into a soup, because I am really devoting myself to delicious nourishing soup life for this end-of-winter season here.

Using the tried and true Use What You Have method, I added some frozen broccoli, some cubed potatoes that I’d steamed and then coated in arrowroot flour and fried up in oil, some extremely garlicky mashed-cauliflower, some tahini for body (highly recommend this trick), and topped with lots of dill and some dried lemon peel.

Then I remembered that past-me had been obsessively saving tater tot crumbs for some future unknown special occasion, and of course soup is its own occasion, so I griddled those up as a topping, and am pleased to report that this soup was a revelation.

What are the clues here

So I get that soup is not necessarily a clue walk, and yet, since I am playing with the idea that a) everything can be a clue walk, and b) as Denis O’Hare said, go out and bring back observations…

Here are the clues for me in this comforting lunchtime feast..

Let’s observe…

A clue about Appreciation: all the scraps used to make stock come from past delicious meals, appreciating past me for finding the energy to cook, for saving the peels, for making sure I consumed vegetables…

A clue about Layers / Process: this soup came together because various pieces were in place that came together over time.

A clue about trust and practice and time: I have made some not-good soups in my life, but also I have been making soup without a recipe for so many years that I have a sensory map of what might be good or what feels right.

A clue about aesthetics: I sent this picture to my friend Emerson who commented that he liked the round handle of the spoon and the way the spoon rests in the spout of the bowl.

What great treasure in this reminder

His words reminded me that I used to be the kind of person who would not use their favorite bowl and spoon, because it’s not an occasion, but guess what, now I always use my favorite bowl and spoon, because this soup is its own occasion, and I am the occasion, and this day is an occasion, and being alive is an occasion.

This is proof that things can change and shift for the better, even if my monsters say they can’t and don’t, they are wrong, because look, the change has already taken place. Miracles abound, things move and shift, and the clues are a reminder of that.

That’s another good reason to set forth and bring back observations, to go out (or be right here) and notice.

Let’s play!

We can find clues in our setting, or change our setting (change our settings!).

We can go for a little stroll, or do a stroll with our eyes or ears right where we are. It all works, no need to let going out and observing turn into another thing we get annoyed at ourselves for not doing.

(This is not a should, we are not falling down on the job when we don’t go out and observe things, it’s all good.)

But just like how there are clues even in a soup and also in a side of griddled sweet potato patties (which are not pictured because they were so outrageously delicious that I devoured them before there could be photographic evidence), clues are available right here, right now, in the moment that is.

Beauty and wonder

I told a friend about how I am obsessing over clue walks again, after hearing Denis O’Hare talk about going forth with the purpose of bringing back observations, even though he meant it specifically as an acting practice, that you observe people, and bring back voices, and gaits, affects and ways people self-express…

She told me about a clue walk that she took when she came to do a retreat at The Playground, my former center in Portland, Oregon, this would have been over ten years ago:

I always remember the clue walk I took at the Playground. I still remember the best thing from it: Look up! Seeing the tops of trees being so ragged looking where the new growth is, not neat and tidy, just all over the place. I still think about it all these years later…

Sometimes observing with intention means that a clue or an image (and its wisdom) will stick with you, in a good way. It can accompany you onward to the next mission…

Naming what we notice

Let’s name some clues, if we can.

Or just find a few minutes for a little walk-about, whether inside or outside, just to explore and see what’s there.

Or if you, like me, are closing some tabs this weekend, what clues and qualities are there that you want to remember!

I’m getting a lovely mental image of a bag or pouch, as if we are venturing forth to pick fruit, to gather or forage our precious clues, and return triumphantly so that we can make them into jam, or, in this case, see what they wish to become.

Let’s notice what we notice, and maybe we can find something useful, or something reassuring, or something beautiful, who knows, let’s find out.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, or anything that helped or anything on your mind. I am lighting a candle for all of it.

Or anything you’d like to toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind (come to heart?), let’s support each other’s hope-sparks and wishes…

Thank you to everyone who reads, porch breaths, the winding path, the many clues that land when they land, receptivity, keeping on keeping on.

New ebook alert!!!

Aka fun bonus material on how I relate to time and map out my quarters for the year.

Anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary this week (see below) will get this by email as a pdf!

A request

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Between Long Covid and traumatic brain injury recovery, things are slow going.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

10% More Relaxed, for example

a misty wintry day, snow on the hills and everything is blurry

On a misty wintry day that is beautiful and spooky, I wanted to tell you about my favorite spell…


Announcement & reminder about the ebook!

If you’ve already given to Barrington’s Discretionary last year or this year, you should have gotten my ebook by email about how I approach and plan my year, how I think about time and am in relationship with time. The feedback on this has been lovely and heartwarming, thank you!

And if you gave to Barrington but didn’t get it, I am so sorry if anyone fell through the cracks, please email me at my name at this website, Havi AT fluent self DOT com, with any emoji, and I will send it.

You can also still obtain a copy for now, as a thank you when you give any sum to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund, and I hope you enjoy and find lots of clues in there!

10% more relaxed, for example

When a word is a mystery to me

I should start by saying that I absolutely do not know how to relax, and most of the time am not sure I really know what it even means.

You can think of this as the manicure conundrum, not that I have had a manicure in the past several years, but I mean the situation when someone takes your hand and they tell you to relax it, except, as far as you know, you aren’t tensing it, because why would you be doing that, so what are they talking about.

What does it mean! I don’t like being told to relax. It stresses me out.

Which is ironic, at least in the Alanis Morissette worldview of irony, pretty sure that whole song was about (basically) this situation.

What does it mean

What do they want from you! Why are they repeating it!

Sometimes they will say, don’t try to hold your hand, let me hold it for you. And I understand that more, but I still don’t really have the ability to follow an instruction to relax.

If anything, I get more frustrated because I don’t know what to do, so then if anything I am less relaxed.

In fact, the best way to get me to relax at all is probably to never suggest it, and yet here we are, talking about it.

*For reasons I can’t describe but it felt important to talk about this now.

Talking about relaxing vs about how frustrating it is to be told to relax…

So, yes, just a few words about the frustration, in case this is something you also experience.

It can really be so frustrating when someone tells you to relax, and you don’t know what they want from you.

It took a long time working with my beloved dance teacher back in Portland (in the before times) until we figured out a way for her to give me concrete instructions and communicate with me in a way I could understand.

Uncrossing the crossed wires

For example, she’d give the instruction “relax”, but what she meant was that I was tensing in such a way that she could feel it in her body when we were dancing together.

And, more specifically, this tension was localized, it was showing up or making itself known in a certain place in my body: maybe my hand was rising, or my shoulders were lifting.

Eventually we figured out that if she could just say “hand” or “shoulder”, I could bring my attention there too and let them drop a little. Or at least soften things in a way that more or less matched up with her version of relaxed, a word I don’t always have an internal definition for.

(Exhale!)

And yet

And yet, even though I tell myself I don’t have a definition for this foreign concept — “What is this relaxed of which you speak?”, it turns out that I have in fact experienced it many times…

At the end of a yoga or feldenkrais class, in a nap, on a peaceful beach, during my evening porch breaths when I tell my friends (the sky, the trees, the wildlife, the fields) about my day.

So it turns out that maybe I do know what this feels like in my body, and just don’t follow instructions well, or resist being instructed.

This is how I came around to playing with the concept of just ten percent.

Sure, maybe I don’t know how to relax (or what it means to be relaxed), but can I conjure some kind of sensory experience when I think about the possibility of ten percent more relaxed?

Spaciousness

Is there some spaciousness for me in that question…? Can it create an opening?

Does it, at the very least, remind me to have a good yawn (or several), listen to my breath, check in with my heartbeat…

And then something in that act of making room — or clearing the decks of my mind, something in that small amount of [attention, not effort] is what allows me to access even more spaciousness.

(Exhale)

Yes, okay, ten percent more relaxed is kind of nice actually. Just ten percent, how does it feel…

Ten percent

Sometimes in the middle of the night if I can’t sleep, I repeat this to myself like a spell.

Ten percent more relaxed.

Because even if totally relaxed feels baffling and unfamiliar to me (or so goes the story in my mind in these late night witching hours), I have absolutely had the experience of softening a bit, releasing some more…

Sometimes the softening is a symbolic amount, sometimes the softening is delicious.

Exhaling into the possibility of the softening

Sinking into the softening, or into the possibility of slightly more at ease.

I count backwards from a number I like, counting the exhalations, and with each exhale, I think to myself, I wonder what ten percent more relaxed would feel like…

It could be any percent of course.

Two percent more relaxed, if ten percent feels like a stretch. No pun intended but now I wish I had intended it.

Ten Percent More Relaxed

Whether I fall back asleep this way (and often I do) or not, I feel better in the morning.

Ten percent more relaxed also works well with other useful questions for those late night anxiety hours like “how much of this is mine” and “is this from now” and “can I put this into the wishing cauldron and let it solve itself, or I can try to solve it in the morning but either way, 3am is not the problem-solving hour, it is the hour of ten percent more relaxed…”

And it helps.

Sometimes it really is more of a theoretical imagining – maybe I can’t feel in my body yet what ten percent more relaxed feels like, but I can still imagine it in my mind. Imagining is great practice. That’s why athletes do it.

So yes, ten percent more relaxed is also a form of athletic training, in a funny sense. We trained for this.

Ten percent more anything, for example…

For example…

Where else can I apply this practice or experiment of imagining what it would feel like to be ten percent more or less anything at all…?

Can I be ten percent braver today, and what would that look like? What about ten percent more patient, ten percent more kind to myself? Can I channel ten percent more Loving Clarity?

What shifts in my day or my approach to my day when I call on this ten percent? And, to be clear, this is not at all about pushing myself to work ten percent harder or be more productive or any of the bullshit that hustle culture insists is important.

This is about experiencing what it’s like to be the person with the finger on the dial, and invite small shifts in the category of qualities or attributes that would be supportive in my day.

Ten Percent Braver

Ten percent braver me might tell me to wash dishes before checking email, because they know about the wisdom of clearing the decks.

Ten percent braver me gets out of bed a little faster.

When I am ten percent more kind to myself (kind with myself?), I remember to name the extenuating circumstances, I remember that I am in a process of rehabilitation. Yes, it took me two and a half days to recover from a trip to the laundromat, that’s just our current reality, let’s adjust expectations.

When I am ten percent more patient, I remember that I am playing the long game, and also to allow three to four times as much time as I think I need for doing literally anything. It helps.

Fractal

These qualities of course support each other, as you may have already guessed.

There’s a sort of a fractal relationship there of interconnectedness and exponential returns.

When I am ten percent more brave, that helps me to be ten percent kinder to myself and vice versa, and both of those support me reminding myself (with kindness) that it’s possible to experience ten percent more relaxed.

The more I get to experience these qualities whether in rest or in action, the less intimidating ten percent sounds, and I can try for some more.

When I can’t access ten percent more anything

It happens.

This weekend I have found myself in a quadruple-molasses deep funk state of everything is moving slowly and I can’t motivate. Okay, sometimes we need to fill up on rest and beauty (or whatever helps) before we can recalibrate our settings.

No worry, it will solve itself. I like to think of ten percent as more of a curious question than an imperative, though sometimes it also can work as a spell.

Into the cauldron it goes, and we’ll see how we feel and go from there.

If I can’t get to ten percent more excited, can I find my way to ten percent more spaciousness?

Where do we go from here

Well, as always, we notice what we notice, and we adjust the experiment as needed.

If this is not an experiment for you, maybe it’s giving you some ideas about other experiments you could run.

Or if relaxing comes easy to you (and I love that for you), what are the areas where you could use ten percent more of a little something-something, that sounded dirty which is not how I meant it, but sure.

Or what about ten percent more of not this, not that, but a third secret thing? Maybe you don’t even need to know what it is yet, maybe the process of asking is what begins to shift things, I don’t know, let’s find out!

Do-overs forever

What an appropriate game to play during the month of Do-Overs Forever, and we are really living through a time that is an absolute treasure of do-over holidays. We had Tu B’shvat, the Jewish new year for trees also known as the birthday of the trees.

Then we had Groundhog Day, the second day of the second month, to remind us that we can try things, and then try again.

And now, speaking of newness, along with new doors, new opportunities, another chance at a new year…

Happy lunar new year, if you celebrate! I hope the year of the dragon brings all of its most useful powers into your life in the exact right ways. For me this year is already about Bravery & Tenacity, which are fierce dragon powers to be sure, and they go well with my theme of Choose Calm Choose Ease.

WWADD (What Would A Dragon Do), and also: what would a dragon want me to embody ten percent more of this year?

Newness abounds

Happy new moon as well, and it’s the new moon that takes us into the first month of Adar.

Yes, we get Adar I and Adar II this year, it’s a leap year on the Hebrew calendar as well as the Gregorian one!

This means two birthday months for me, which is the best form of Do-Overs Forever I’ve ever heard of, something I need anyway because [complicated feelings about this time of year].

Joy: multiplied

I may have mentioned this before but the phrase for Adar is that when it comes in, then joy multiplies, so I am wishing multiplied joy for you as well.

For this month, I am calling on the powers of Bravery & Tenacity (ten percent more?), Surprise Good News, Obsessed with Pleasure, Obsessed with Joy, and of course appreciating the micro-joys.

Micro-joys multiplying: examples

Like a ridiculously large orange, for example, or a moment of pretty sky that I am able to notice as I am reminding myself to look up.

(Superpower of things are looking up when I remember to look up, which Anna reminded me to do, also a form of ten percent more relaxed).

Or in a sudden moment of light-heartedness, or a sudden moment of grace – remembering to love the sea.

Or the reminder I got, via Amanda who sent me this delightful web comic, that joy in winter is a noble pursuit.

A breath for noble pursuits, for finding joy in an orange, a breath for pleasure and play.

Lighting a candle for all this and more

Lighting a candle for ten percent more of what is needed.

Or maybe it’s about feeling into ten percent less of something.

Or could be you want to play with a different percentage point entirely.

As Chef John would say, that’s just you cooking.

(You are after all the 50 Cent of your possibly ten percent…)

Happy new everything, happy percentage shifts

Let’s place all these good thoughts and wishes into the cooking pot or the witching cauldron, and see what emerges once we give them some time to simmer.

Happy new everything, here’s to the micro-joys when and where we can find them.

Here’s to the small but meaningful percentage shifts, and also to being patient with ourselves and letting things brew for a while.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, or anything that helped or anything on your mind. I am lighting a candle for all of it.

Or anything you’d like to toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind (come to heart?), let’s support each other’s hope-sparks and wishes…

Thank you to everyone who reads, porch breaths, the winding path, the many clues that land when they land, receptivity, keeping on keeping on.

New ebook alert!!!

Aka fun bonus material on how I relate to time and map out my quarters for the year.

Anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary this week (see below) will get this by email as a pdf!

A request

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Between Long Covid and traumatic brain injury recovery, things are slow going.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

A season of do-overs

a broad pink stripe decorates the sky above a peaceful field with trees in the background

The sky practicing do-overs, testing out magical light and a pink arch, what a great look…


Announcement & reminder about the ebook!

If you’ve already given to Barrington’s Discretionary last year or this year, you should have gotten my ebook by email about how I approach and plan my year, how I think about time and am in relationship with time. The feedback on this has been lovely and heartwarming, thank you!

And if you gave to Barrington but didn’t get it, I am so sorry if anyone fell through the cracks, please email me at my name at this website, Havi AT fluent self DOT com, with any emoji, and I will send it.

You can also still obtain a copy for now, as a thank you when you give any sum to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund, and I hope you enjoy and find lots of clues in there!

A season of do-overs

Do-overs forever, we keep experimenting

Anyone who has been hanging out here for any length of time knows that I love a do-over. And not just one, I love dozens of do-overs, infinite do-overs, the expansiveness of remembering we can give something another try, or do it entirely differently, or keep experimenting.

And I especially love February, the Month of Do-overs.

Starting, for me, with February 2nd (Groundhog Day), the Holiest Feast Day of Do-Overs.

Edit: Okay I just reread that piece from a year ago after writing today’s piece, because I was searching for links to previous writings about do-overs, and was astonished by everything in it, bless my mind that writes and erases…

The second day of the second month of second chances

I love that Groundhog Day falls on the second of the month, itself a sort of do-over for the first day in case that didn’t work out. The second day of the second month of second chances…

We’re always practicing, we’re always trying things. We can take it slow.

Recalibrating, reconfiguring, renewing, each second is a form of seconds.

There is so much fractal magic in a symbolic restart, in doing something slightly differently than usual, with intention.

And either way, we made it through January, a thousand points to us.

January of many things / January is rarely easy

To be clear: if January is easy for you, then I love this for you, and am delighted on your behalf, may it only continue!

For me and for so many people I know, January can be such a challenge of a month, loaded as it is with so many external expectations, and located as it is in the calendar, in the cold, grey times if you’re in the northern hemisphere…

It can be a gloomy and/or stressful time for many of us, and then add to that being constantly exposed, through media, social media and the bigger culture, to people going full speed ahead on new habits and loudly excitedly talking about all the changes they are making (forcing).

Or about how stuck they are which isn’t really about an experience of stuck at all, it’s more just about how change and force don’t get along.

Hello, February

February is a beautiful reminder that January was, if anything, a very slow warm-up, barely a dress rehearsal, for any new qualities and practices we might want to invite in this year.

And now we get to take what we learned, add some compassion and grace if we can, and practice trying again, differently this time.

Maybe more slowly, maybe with more kindness, maybe with more realistic expectations, ideally with some Loving Clarity.

Moving water

I have been enjoying the sky (blue bits peeking from behind clouds) of the last day of January here. If you are in other parts of the world it is already February for you, and I hope it’s feeling beautiful and hopeful there, but in case it isn’t, then I am lighting a candle for you.

And either way, I am lighting a candle for me, and for entry into the new month.

A candle for more beauty, more hope, more do-overs, more good movement, more miracles, more bravery and tenacity, and/or more of whatever is needed, since I am not there and I don’t know.

Bravery o’clock

An interesting (to me) thing about this past January is that, unlike last January when writing was hard for me, this year I wrote every single day.

Meanwhile another intriguing piece of this is that I have felt positively allergic to editing these words and sharing them, and I’m not sure why or which part, but maybe the why doesn’t matter.

Maybe it’s related to the rawness, maybe it’s related to not wishing to be seen, maybe it just isn’t the time for sharing those words, maybe it just so happened that I had a lot to say to myself.

But today I feel pulled to share words with you, new ones, and so I am going to attempt to “move the water” of the words inside me, kung fu style, for a forty five minute hour, to see if they wish to take a shape.

Moving water / moving with water

I was half-listening to radio, and someone was talking about kung fu, and how the idea is not to move your body, but to be fluid and liquid in such a way that you imagine moving the water inside of you.

They suggested imagining you have a bottle of water, and instead of trying to move the bottle, you are shifting your mind into a fluidity state, and imagining that the water moves the bottle.

What a beautiful reminder for me that I live in a body, and my body is a body of water, literally mostly water, and just like a lake or a river is a body of water, so too am I.

Motion is happening, flow is already there, in play, at play. I don’t have to make anything happen; I can just be with the water and love the sea. I love the sea.

Twenty years later…

This August will be twenty years since I got the domain for this very website and it went up the next day, and what a time, it felt so exciting and so weird at the same time, and I could not have imagined that I would still be writing things here twenty years later.

But I am. Some days it flows, some days I have to remember how to move the water inside me. Some days I do not wish to share my words, some days I don’t even want to share them with myself.

We keep on keeping on, and it’s so brave to just be, never mind to listen to ourselves.

What am I listening to when I listen to myself

And by listen to ourselves, I mean the practice of separating out from all the monster-thoughts, the self-criticism, the inherited cultural and social expectations, the ideas that we receive from the world or from people whose opinions had power or perceived power over us at some point in life…

Listening to what is beneath that, listening to my heartbeat and my breath and the sounds in the room.

And also skipping a stone into this body of water, asking a question and letting it reverberate into the waters of my consciousness…

Then listening to the parts of me who are kind and funny and warm, they are not worried about me, they are unburdened by doom-stories, they love the sea

Marathon self

I have been noticing when my brain has been working overtime, and trying to remind it that February is the month of do-overs. Part of do-overs includes not trying so hard, not forcing, not pushing, more being present with the want and the water, with the remembering and the noticing.

Similarly, I am trying to remember that training for a marathon (whether real, metaphorical or, in my case, a proxy) doesn’t happen in huge chunks but with slow steady pacing and focusing on small incremental progress, like gradually improving timing.

Let’s talk to my marathon self. Marathon self, what counsel do you have for me?

Marathon Self advises…

A marathon is never as far out as you think, so start training earlier and more often, in small pieces.

Focus on what’s already working. You have endurance, stamina, posture training, core training, and most importantly, you have the ability to be alone with your thoughts.

You think running alone is a negative, and that you wish for companionship, but actually I am there and your various other incoming selves, so really you are running in a pack.

You love backwards walking, you can absolutely get excited about backwards jogging…

What does this mean

Me: I still don’t even really get what this is about at all, like what are we actually talking about?

Marathon self: You just want to train for things, and that’s great, it’s a sign of life.

Can we (we can) also train in other areas, from daily writing to moving forward, from journaling to finishing the many half-finished essays?

Or consider the daily cooking club projects that lead us towards a well-prepped kitchen…

And of course a marathon is about being victorious. Not in the sense of coming first. The victory is in the training. And then there’s another victory in showing up. And a third victory in finishing the course.

These are the victories we care about.

Victorious Marathon self says…

Even on a day when you were absolutely wrecked from a [situaton], you still managed to do your clubs, a symbolic non-zero version or amount of the things that are important to you in a day, this is not nothing.

Can you apply this to love, in general? Whether to your relationship with yourself or to healing past relationships through living differently now?

What would it take to be entirely unattracted to workaholics and deeply attracted to living intentionally and with ritual, run towards (ritual, for example), and if no one else is running that course, then who cares, you are still doing the marathon, you are still victorious…

Can you also release all vestiges of workaholism / fear that you will return to that mode of being and therefore dreading work, and find a renewed source of joy for creating?

Alright, let’s notice what worked in January

I love the January holidays.

For example, Carl Wethers Day. January 14 is his birthday but we can celebrate any day, and I celebrate with baby you got a stew going, and make a stew.

Do I usually make risotto? Yes, but that’s fine, it’s basically a stew. This year I also made Leave Your Family beans, and they were delicious, and I will tell you about that another time.

There’s Dolly day on the 19th when I channel Dolly Parton superpowers of celebrating being a baddie. I entirely made up this holiday (unlike all the other holidays which are obviously very real like making stew for Carl Wethers – who doesn’t celebrate that?), but it was her birthday, and it feels important to channel some extra unapologetic sex appeal in January.

*Even if I have been — allegedly — wearing the same sweatshirt and leggings for a [REDACTED] number of days.

Love a Feast of Liberations

Endings are beginnings are Feasts of Liberations, and making a feast day out of a formerly painful day is also a form of do-overs.

In January I celebrated freedom and more freedom, and also my tree friends, and today, January 31 is a holiday I call Reconfigurations Day because once, in the past, I got a piece of unexpected bad news on this day and had to recognize how to speedily recalibrate and reconfigure everything at once.

Here’s to the swift and less-swift recalibrations and reconfigurations happening with great ease, yes to unexpected great ease.

Here’s to remaining gloriously unbothered by perceived upheaval. And, also, here’s to falling apart if we need to fall apart, which is so reasonable, and then we can run do-overs later.

It’s all good, it all works out, good job to us.

Looking for another clue

Each time I look up, the sky is doing two wildly different things at once, depending on which way I move my head.

Just like how a lot can happen (or the water can move and be moved) inside of a fifty minute hour or a forty five minute hour, so the sky is a body of water.

Can I focus on the water within me, and moving as if I’m in a pool? Can I love the sea within? Maybe that is a theme for the season of do-overs too…

Oh, and something about season like seasoning, how do I wish to season these do-overs and change the flavor with each new experiment!

Tempestuous powers

I forgot to tell you that I refer to the month that was as Tempestuous January, which comes from a tweet a couple years ago from someone who said: “It’s the birthday of Pola Negri. Do something tempestuous.”

And I remember thinking, oh hell yeah, I’m gonna be tempestuous all month long, for good luck.

For good luck, and to practice. BE TEMPESTUOUS JANUARY.

A lot of the time this just involved doing something completely normal with a bit of a tempestuous spirit and flair, but also I talked to my most Tempestuous Self in addition to Bravery & Tenacity and tried to get some clarity on what these versions of me know that I do not (yet).

Anything else I want to keep in mind?

Whether for welcoming the season of do-overs, or in general?

The Cowboy: Do-overs is not about perfectionism, it’s not about trying to make something “better” each time, it’s about devotion. Your devotion to practicing and being present with the experience in a new way.

Like your yoga teacher used to say, how you do anything is how you do everything. That’s what I’m thinking about when I do chores on the ranch. Do-overs as a form of refinement, but without judgment. Gaining experience through repetition, changing some small element each time.

The Assassin: Training is about repetition, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun.

Victorious Marathon Self: I was going to say the same thing. Add some lightness. Laugh a little. Go backwards. Let moving the water be playful.

The Outlaw: You love hiding out, you love hunkering down, you love hibernation as a doorway to recalibrating and reconfiguring, so go with that.

Tempestuous January self: You did good, kid. Just keep finding more joy. Don’t give so much time and energy to not-joy, or even to trying to solve the not-joy.

Focus on accruing joy dividends! Let the pursuit of joy be joyful in its own right.

Delicious Obsessions self: Dive even deeper into what is appealing and what makes it appealing, take things that are working and switch them up, use what you have, add something extra!

Happy Season of Do-Overs!

Come in, come in, all helpful attributes for this season.

Clarity, Devotion, Playfulness, Integrity.

Sustenance, Intuition, Trust, Light-heartedness.

Letting go of expectations. Just trying things, here and there.

Here and there

Those both feel equally important to me: letting go of expectations, on the one hand, and just trying things, on the other. Here and there. Where we can.

Dancing it out, making small adjustments and checking in to see how it’s going.

Checking back in with these qualities and attributes, how is the body of water that is me changing and moving when I add these to the mix?

Casting

All this is what I’m casting into the waters, with love, of course you are welcome to invite whatever is appealing to you into your own pool of water.

I’m imagining the waters illuminated by moonlight, just like Tempestuous Me would like, but also I’m thinking about all the things I might be ready to release.

What a good time for a season of do-overs, what a good time to be unhurried and move deliberately. Lighting a candle for all this and more.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

You are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, or anything that helped or anything on your mind. I am lighting a candle for all of it.

Or anything you’d like to toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind (come to heart?), let’s support each other’s hope-sparks and wishes…

Thank you to everyone who reads, porch breaths, the winding path, the many clues that land when they land, receptivity, keeping on keeping on.

New ebook alert!!!

Aka fun bonus material on how I relate to time and map out my quarters for the year.

Anyone who gives to Barrington’s Discretionary this week (see below) will get this by email as a pdf!

A request

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously. Between Long Covid and traumatic brain injury recovery, things are slow going.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to Barrington’s Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️

The Fluent Self