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.
Ask Havi #19: sobbing like mad
For some reason we’ve been covering meditation-related stuff kind of a lot lately, what with the whole discussion on how to dump some of the meditation-related shoulds as well as my wacky tales of conversations with blocks.
So I bet lots of people have this question. Or a question that’s kinda related to this question.
And even if you don’t, maybe there’s something in this one for you anyway.
Man, I hope so.
The question:
“I’m hopefully not the first one to ask this:
How does one achieve a meditative state while sobbing like mad? I can’t seem to make it work…
Of course I haven’t tried any meditation without one of your helpful MP3s ’cause I’m not yet ready. Help when you have a second?
Thanks so much. Hugs to you, Selma, and your gentleman friend.”
Wow. Hard.
Well … the short answer is: you don’t.
Believe me, I’ve tried and it doesn’t work. And it’s not fun.
It’s hard being in the stuck. And sometimes when you have a lot of sadness and pain to process, they demand a lot of your attention and time. Because they really, really want you to notice them.
And it can feel as though you’ll never be able to get a little peace.
Ironically (ow ow ow, it hurts), it’s the giving them attention part that helps them get quieter.
But the best way to give them attention is usually through some sort of meditative state and aaaaaaarrrgh, usually they’re so loud that you can’t get there.
So what ends up happening is that you can’t give them that attention even if you want to, which — if you’re even slightly like me — you probably don’t.
Oh, sweetie. I wish I had a perfect, magic solution for you. But all I can do is tell you what I do in this situation. So …
What I do when I’m sobbing like mad and can’t achieve any sort of meditative anything.
Let’s see. I generally do one (or more) of the following seven things.
You might like to try them in a different order, of course. No need to stick to the way they happened to come out of my brain this particular time.
And there’s definitely no need to limit yourself to my (or anyone else’s) limitations. 🙂
You’ll see how it goes. Should you find that one of these things tends to work especially well for you, go ahead and bump that one up to the top of your list.
Okay. Here’s what I’ve got.
1. Allowing yourself to be miserable.
I pretty much give myself permission to be sad/furious/miserable or whatever it is I’m feeling. Maybe I even give myself fifteen minutes to run around the house kicking walls and throwing things and wailing, or to just collapse in a puddle on the floor.
And I keep telling myself “I’m allowed to feel __________”.
Or — if I totally don’t believe that — I’ll say, “Even though I’m still feeling _______ and I don’t want to be, this happens to be where I am right now so what the hell, I’m just going to let myself be there and remind myself that it’s not going to be like this forever.”
Rinse. Repeat.
2. A quick dose of calm.
If #1 doesn’t work, I will absolutely take ten minutes to listen to one of the Emergency Calming Technique audios. Or the Non-Sucky Yoga recording, which I know you also have.
Yes, I listen to my own audio recordings. That seems kind of insane, even to me. But they pretty much always do the trick.
Absolute worst case scenario? They’ll make you feel better equipped to deal with this, and you’ll be able to brainstorm possible solutions of your own and to feel less miserable about your options.
And no, it’s not cheating to listen to a recording. If that’s what helps get you there, go with that. The goal isn’t some idealized Tibetan cave meditation situation. It’s about opening a tiny door into a space that’s yours.
3. Systematic flailing and whirring of neural connections.
If #2 doesn’t work I do some Dance of Shiva.
Usually the frenetic whirling around of limbs and resulting state of chaos and confusion shuts down my brain long enough for me to be able to sit quietly.
Dance of Shiva is by far the best preparing-oneself-for-meditation technique that I know.
I’ve used it with people in intense grief situations who were absolutely incapable of even closing their eyes without bursting into tears, and they were able to achieve several minutes of sitting quietly, which is a huge relief when you’re under that kind of strain.
Plus it will give you big, crazy insights into whatever patterns are behind this thing to begin with.
4. Permission not to meditate: granted.
If #3 doesn’t work I give myself permission to skip meditation entirely.
I remind myself that this situation is temporary, and that apparently what my body and mind need most right now is comfort and attention that is best received in a way that’s not meditating.
And then I crawl under a huge pile of blankets and put one hand on my heart and one hand on my belly and pay attention to the rhythm of my breathing.
This is not “Oh fine, I’ll go back to bed.” Because that can end up triggering all sorts of (completely legitimate) fears about getting lost in the depression and the stuck.
It’s a conscious, active “I am intentionally giving myself this time and space to be with myself and my body so I can practice receiving comfort.”
Fifteen minutes or so works well to get you into a softly meditative state. After which you might even find that hey, you actually feel like meditating now.
OR that you’re not judging yourself for the fact that you can’t. Which is also great.
5. Sing! Sing! Sing!
If #4 doesn’t work I sing. Sometimes really softly and sometimes at the top of my lungs.
Generally speaking, it’s helpful to have a mantra or something meaningful to you, but really any song that doesn’t make you sad will work. A short song that you can put on repeat is also good.
Sometimes I’ll sit with prayer beads and link one word of my song to each bead, which will really focus my attention.
Other times I just make up my own little sad song about everything I’m thinking about and just let it go through me until it’s done.
6. Acupressure magic.
If #5 doesn’t work, I make my gentleman friend do acupressure tapping on various points on my face.
I gave some especially useful and unconventional points in the Emergency Calming Techniques package, so you probably already have some favorites.
Here’s a PDF version of some more standard points. It’s not my favorite acupressure method in the world, but it will totally work for these purposes.
7. Ask yourself what you need.
Thankfully I’ve never experienced a situation where one of the above six things didn’t shift something for me, but if this should ever happen, here’s what I’d recommend for you:
Don’t force the meditation. Or the concept of it. Because it’s sooooo depressing when the thing that’s supposed to help you becomes a should.
Instead, see if you can maybe shift your focus to “what are some of the things I could do to meet myself where I am right now … so that I can achieve a little distance from this pain while still being close to myself?”*
*Or whatever less-cheesy version of that works for you.
Hope that helps!
As an ex of mind used to say, “patience is a virtue but being virtuous kind of sucks…”
Right? It’s hard when you really want something to be happening now and it’s not. I know it.
Selma and I are wishing you (and everyone else who reads this) support and comfort and lots of everything you need … all the time, but especially when you need it. Keep us posted.
Friday Check-in #28: sock monkey edition
Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.
And you get to join in if you feel like it.
Oh boy. This was a very loooooooong week.
I’ve been thinking it was Friday since about Tuesday.
If that makes any sense at all.
The hard stuff
Carpal freaking tunnel.
I make my living from writing. Now I can’t really write.
A lot of stuff has had to change. Fast.
It’s been interesting. And hurt-ey.
The most annoying week ever.
Obviously being in pain tends to make everything worse, but still I think all will agree that this was an exceptionally sucky week.
I spent huge amounts of it feeling frustrated, irritable and generally upset with the world.
There was much stomping around. Also, I forgot that I’m only allowed to stomp on the trampoline and I broke the bed.
Managed not to put a fist through the wall, but really only because I love Hoppy House so much and also we’re renting.
I don’t really feel like getting into the complicated background story, but lets just say there was a lot of hard.
Dealing with the past. And the future.
So I bought plane tickets for the annual teaching trip to Germany. And also for a two-week visit to Israel while we’re there.
Tel Aviv. I miss it like crazy and I also don’t want to go back. Did I mention that I haven’t been home in four years?
And now everything that was already complicated is made extra-complicated because of my friend who is dead.
I have to decide who I will see and who I cannot bear to see. Which family obligations are do-able and which ones I need to sneak out of.
Whether we go to the grave or whether I won’t be able to handle it.
If there is even a single street in Tel Aviv which I didn’t walk down at some point with my friend and whether or not any of it will be bearable.
Trying to make any plans at all with the weight of this sadness is like trying to run a race underwater. I’m not getting anywhere and that’s just where I’m at with it.
Let’s try for some good stuff now because I really need it.
The good stuff
I got a sock monkey! A sock monkey!.
I love Melle. This is not news.
But now my adoration is just that much more intense because she made a Sock Monkey and mailed him to me to be a permanent resident here at Hoppy House.
I love him. He still does not have a name that I know of, but one day he’ll tell me what it is, I’m sure.
But I don’t care. He is marvelous.
I get presents.
And snail mail.
Lots of it.
Basically, going on email sabbatical has been good to me in all sorts of unexpected ways, as I explained yesterday.
So … some of the random and excellent stuff that has been showing up, aside from the Sock Monkey. I’m including links and Twitter handles in case you want to internet-stalk befriend any of these fabulous people.
— A book about chickens! But a really funny one. From Christopher L. Jorgensen aka @jackassletters.
— A card from Crispy Mark aka @MarkWSchumann.
— A wonderful letter from my dear Douglas aka @LenKneller.
— Soap from Grace aka @GraceJudson.
— Flowers from Char aka @CharTFirstStep.
— And a wonderful thank-you note from the lovely Julianna aka @julianna01.
Birthday of the trees, baby.
There are so many bizarrely great Jewish holidays that it’s hard to narrow it down to your top three or top five, but come on! Tu B’shvat!
For one thing, it’s the birthday of the trees and who doesn’t love trees? Well, lots of people. But I am obsessive about them. Trees are big, happy love machines. Plus they tell me secrets.
But even if you’re not the kind of person who regularly hangs out with trees, the whole point of this holiday, as far as I can tell, is to fill up on dates and figs and almonds.
Best. Holiday. Ever.
Anyway, it was Monday if you missed it.
Spa Day (the kind that happens by phone.
If you read this blog you already know about my sexy crush on Jennifer Hofmann.
When she does her Inspired Home Office Spa Day (two and a half delicious hours of clearing out stuckness in your office), I’m always the first in line.
This month she actually decided to do two in one week. Well, last week. Wednesday and Saturday.
Guess who signed up for both of them?
Uh huh. So this week my office has been loving me up and appreciating not being covered in insane pile-age.
Spa Day (the kind that happens by in a spa.
I’ve been getting lots of massage for my poor hurt-ey arms.
And my massage guy works in a place where there’s a spa. So I’ve been sauna-ing it up and hot-tubbing and generally using the hell out of the spa.
Another thing that will suck about getting well. Just kidding. I’ll find some other equally brilliant way to treat myself to fabulousness.
I have a new laptop. And I can see the keys.
My old scrappy iBook G4 has been hanging in there for four years now.
I wore off the letters on the keyboard ages ago from over-typing. And since I regularly type in three languages (English, Hebrew and German), it’s almost better if I don’t look to see where the letters are.
Now I have a brand new MacBook Air and I am madly in love with it. Madly, I tell you.
It turns out it’s really cool to be able to look down every once in a while and actually see what you’re doing. Who’d have thought?
Ez lives here! Still!
It’s been a month since my brother moved in with me and my gentleman friend and Selma. And we could not be happier about it.
Having him around is so, so, so perfect. If only for the spit-takes.
Also, this week we invented a new style of kung fu inspired by Bob Hope. That’s how much fun we have.
Not to mention the day we spent speaking only in Peter Lorre imitations.
Or the pleasure we’ve taken in coming up with ludicrous album titles for our fake punk rock band Euphonius Maximus: Charlatans at Large.
That’s it for me …
And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.
Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?
And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.
The Great Email Sabbatical Experiment.
Email Sabbatical: is it all it’s cracked up to be?
Man, I love pretending that this blog has anything at all to do with the world of hard-hitting journalism. I just read my own subtitle in Announcer Voice and totally cracked myself up.
Moving on.
So Mona and Jess and a bunch of people whose names aren’t coming to mind at the moment have asked me to “report back” on the whole email sabbatical thing.
And — if you’re not in the loop — my duck and I decided to take a break from email for all of 2009 as one of my many experiments in how to run a successful business while still maintaining some semblance of sanity.
Actually I was hoping we’d make it a week. Setting the goal for a year was just crazy-talk.
That was a month ago.
So yeah, I’m reporting back. Here goes — my thoughts on Life Without Email.
Let’s start with the surprises …
Actually there were pretty much only surprises. Seven of them, to be exact.
I’ll try to make most of them pretty short. Last one is the biggest deal, by far.
Surprise #1: I adore being on email sabbatical!
A little background …
I freaking LOVED email. Madly and obsessively. Addiction was not even the word for it. So, for the record, I was not expecting to enjoy or appreciate my email sabbatical. But I was willing to take it on the chin in order to be able to keep running my business.
I have only one thing to say to that and that’s hahahahahahahahahahaha.
Life without email is pure unadulterated joy.
Surprise #2: People actually, you know, listen to me and stuff!
Before Email Sabbatical, I was getting hundreds of email messages a day. Hundreds.
When I first announced here that I wasn’t going to be answering them anymore, it was clear to me what was going to happen.
Here’s the way I pictured it: First a flood of sobbing, fist-shaking “How can you do this to us?!” email, then a slowing-down as people realized I was serious and then it would be back to business as usual.
By which I mean that I’d still be getting the same insane amounts of email, but the lovely Marissa would be answering them.*
*Marissa always signs her own name so no need to worry about whether any correspondence is “really” coming from me or not.
What actually happened? In reality? I stopped getting insane amounts of email. The flood slowed to a trickle.
Apparently, the people who write to me actually read this blog. I was stunned. It was the most brilliant thing ever.
Seriously. Thousands of people around the world stopped writing to me because I asked them to. I mean, good grief. I had no idea it worked like that!
Really. Had I known that all I had to do was ask, I would have gone on email sabbatical years ago.
Surprise #3: Short meetings! I mean, really short.
I expected to have to meet with Marissa every day for at least half an hour just to give her instructions on how to deal with all the enormous backed up piles of email.
Nope. Every few days she’ll have three or four that she’s not sure what to do with. That’s it. It’s not even a big deal.
Surprise #4: What’s with all the snail mail!?
Tomorrow in the Friday Chicken I’ll list some of the neat stuff that’s been showing up in the mail box lately, but let me just say that this is the most “real, live mail” I’ve gotten in my entire life.
Now that people know Selma and I aren’t doing email, they send cards. It’s the sweetest thing in the entire world.
Seriously? I’ve been leading teleclasses for a couple of years now. I’ve never gotten a thank you note before. I mean, a real one. On a pretty card. What?
Sure, people used to send books they wanted me to review and stuff like that, but now I just get presents. Very cool.
p.s. I LOVE YOU GUYS TOO!
Surprise #5: You really can say everything you need to in 140 characters.
When people need something from me or have a question, they send me a direct message on Twitter.
And — to my astonishment — I’ve found that just about everything can be answered in one (maybe two) direct messages.
DMs are easy. They’re quick. And no one feels short-changed because they already know that I’m not going to email them.
Also people now make their questions short and to the point, instead of the ten-page “here is my entire life story” sort of messages that I used to get back B.E.S. (Before Email Sabbatical).
God bless Twitter.
Surprise #6: It doesn’t matter anymore that I suck at saying “NO!”
I’ve talked about this in a gazillion posts, specifically the one that was actually titled
Saying no. Feeling awful about saying no.
But also here and here and some other places.
I’ve outed myself as someone who hates saying no so many times and asked for help with this so many times …. and it just doesn’t matter.
People will ask.
So what was happening was that I was getting way, way better at saying no, but at the same time way, way more people were asking.
So if all those people asked for something and I was brave enough to say no to almost all of them, it still sucked.
I’d say no to nine out of ten impossible requests but that one last request might take forty-five minutes or more. If that happened every day … you see my point.
Now I still can’t say no, but I don’t get the asks — Marissa filters them out. She has no problem saying no for me. I love her.
Surprise #7: Where’s all this time coming from?
This is the best part of the whole thing. By a lot.
But I have to tell you a tiny little story. I go to this wonderful woman Carolyn Winkler for PSYCH-K every couple of weeks.
It’s this wacky technique that uses muscle testing and wordishness to work on stuckified and limiting beliefs. I totally don’t get it but I love the hell out of it.
The first time I ever did PSYCH-K it was to work on my belief that I have to be invisible and no one is allowed to see me because it’s not safe for me to be seen. The next week I found out I was being quoted in Woman’s Day.
Love. It.
Anyway, a week before the Email Sabbatical, I did a session with Carolyn about time and — more specifically — me having it.
I told her I wanted two and a half hours in the afternoon to do whatever I want, but that I didn’t believe that would ever even be a remote possibility.
She did her stuff. I promptly forgot about it. Then I went on email sabbatical and a week later I was telling a friend how it’s so cool having all this time all of a sudden.
That giving up email had opened up two and a half hours in my day and now I get to go for a walk in the afternoon or study or sit at a cafe.
Then last week I was flipping through my journal and discovered the PSYCH-K session that I’d completely forgotten about. Two and a half hours. Every day. It’s incredible.
Bottom line?
This sabbatical might just be the best thing that ever happened to me. Actually I think it is.
Biggest regret? That I didn’t do it sooner.
Also, it’s weird to think about all the time I spent feeling resentful about what seemed (to me) to be people not respecting my time. Turned out that I was the one who didn’t respect my time.
Because as soon as I set boundaries for it, the respect was right there. Whoops. Sorry about that.
Are there hard parts? Sort of. I mean, sometimes you miss people. And sometimes you need a distraction and email isn’t there to give it to you.
I jump on my trampoline, go meditate, go for a walk, read Jenny the Bloggess or make a cup of tea. Or Twitter. There’s always Twitter. And there’s no way in hell I’m going on sabbatical from that so let’s never talk about that again.
I’ll see you there! Or here. Or at SXSW. Just not in my inbox. Really, it’s better for both of us that way.
Item! A bunch of stuff!
A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.
Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.
Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.
I’m rather behind on my internet reading due to the annoying part about not enjoying clicking on things. Yes, arms/hands are still in crazy pain.
Still, I did manage to find lots of good stuff.
Item! Post No. 11 in the series that just keeps on beating the odds.
Item! This is absolutely beautiful!
This powerful post by Wendy Cholbi took my breath away:
Me: But doesn’t it kind of defeat the purpose of disguised learning to call it disguised learning? I mean, if you know you’re supposed to be learning, it’s not really disguised, is it?
Genius Daughter: Well, it’s still funner.
It starts off sweet and funny … and just when you’ve nodded at the lovely insight that you think is the point of the post, she takes it somewhere completely unexpected.
I think you really need to read this one.
Also, you can follow her on Twitter. She’s @wendycholbi.
Item! Who doesn’t like toasters?
Everyone loves Johnny Truant (or as I insist on calling him, Johnny B. Truant because he’s @JohnnyBTruant on Twitter).
This post in particular is worth reading for the following line:
I raised my hand. “We’re honoring toasters by selling one into slavery?”
Also the rest of it is great. But that was where I spit all over my computer.
Item! This is some serious soul-baring!
I was really moved by Sarah Marie Lacy’s intimate post about stucknesses.
Some serious soul-baring here. Be kind and give her love.
Wow, right? She’s @smlacy if you Twitter. Which you do, right? Right?
Item! This is my new favorite blog!
It’s called Downward Dragon and I love it.
The most simple description is that it’s about a woman who used yoga to kick a heroin habit and is documenting that process.
When I was using, I got so much nothing done, it was unbelievable.
But really it’s about a whole bunch of things.
This is one of the most clear and honest blogging voices I’ve come across. It’s astonishing. Read this post especially.
Also she’s @loladragon on Twitter.
Item! Apparently my duck is a whore!
Naomi (@IttyBiz) called my duck a whore. AGAIN.
It’s a good thing I am madly in love with her. Or otherwise feathers would fly.
Item! Speaking of ducks!
The rule of having a duck is that people will send you photos and trinkets and all sorts of bizarre things if there is anything ducky about them.
At least three people send me a link to this especially adorable duck picture, but the first one was Jeff Moriarty (@jmoriarty on Twitter).
That is all.
This is as much linking as my poor hands can take.
Actually more. I’ve been writing this in five minute increments all week.
Yes, I know.
Back soon.
Conversations with blocks, Part 2
Because it’s not enough that I talk to walls … I recently got sucked into an especially bizarre internal conversation. Between me and myself.
Which I reported back to you, verbatim. Because having a blog means you can do stuff like that.
Background, anyone?.
Yeah, so if you’d like to read part one of my conversation with blocks, that will give you some perspective on just how crazy I am how powerful this process can be what’s going on here.
Otherwise the CliffsNotes version is that I started talking to the part of myself which blocks me from moving forward.
We agreed that it would be best to remove some of these blocks — but only if I could give the part doing the blocking some serious reassurance that this would still be safe.
And I was told that I had to go talk to my fear. Which I so wasn’t looking forward to. But I did it anyway. Here goes.
Talking to my fear. Take 1.
Me (reluctant): Uh … apparently I’m like, supposed to talk to you or something. But I’m kind of terrified.
Fear: How very ironic. Isn’t that my job?
Me: You know, it would be nice if there were some internal part of me that wasn’t sarcastic and obnoxious.
Fear: Passive-aggressive much?
Me: You know what? Let’s start over.
Fear: You’re the one who wanted to talk.
Oof.
I did some breathing. I did some tapping on acupressure points. I pulled out my non-denominational prayer beads that are so insanely non-denominational that they have a duck on them.
And then I tried again.
Talking to my fear. Take 2.
Me: Listen, fear. I really, truly want to know whatever it is that you have to tell me.
Fear: No you don’t.
Me: I won’t criticise you. Even though it’s true that I don’t like being afraid, I’m sure you have a good reason for being here. I’d like it if you’d talk to me about it.
Fear: Do you remember … ?
What followed then was a sharp pain in my hip joint, followed by an extremely unpleasant montage of memories from junior high school.
Me: I love it. That’s where you’re taking me? I make it through poverty and divorce and a terrorist blowing up the cafe across the street … and you want me to go back to seventh grade? Do I really need to relive being terrorized by Rhonda Moore to do whatever I’m trying to do here?
Fear: Hey, you asked.
Me: What is this really about?
Fear: It’s my job to protect you. It’s my job to keep you safe. Stop trying to make me go away because I’m not going anywhere!
Talking to my fear. Take 3.
Me: So you’re here to protect me.
Fear: Uh huh.
Me: Why can’t I have other forms of protection that aren’t so … scary? I mean, uncomfortable.
Fear: That’s just how it is and it’s never going to change! Stop trying to make me change! Please?
Me: Oh, fear. I’m sorry. You must be feeling really worried that I’m going to get rid of you. It’s horrible when people want you to change. I know that.
Fear: Okay. Promise that you won’t hurt me.
Me: I won’t hurt you. Just tell me what I need to know. I’m listening.
My fear was very, very quiet. And then one word came up.
Inside of me it was dark and silent. There was only this one word.
VIGILANCE.
Vigilance.
Talking to my fear. Take 4.
Me: Tell me about vigilance.
Fear: Vigilance is the only way. You need to be kept safe. So I keep you alert and vigilant so you can protect yourself.
Me: By scaring the hell out of me.
Fear: Uh huh.
Me: I guess I can appreciate that. Kind of. I mean, what actually happens is that I get so paralyzed by the fear itself that I’m not able to be vigilant. The fear just knocks me down. So maybe not so effective. But I get how it’s supposed to work.
Fear: Vigilance!
Me: So if the purpose of me feeling this thing is vigilance and alertness … couldn’t there be another mechanism?
Fear: ??
Me: What if there are other ways to help me achieve this state of alertness that is so important because it keeps me safe? What about things like mindfulness and awareness and caution?
Fear: You would trust them to do my job?
Me: Well … what if they could do your busy work? And then you wouldn’t need to show up unless it was an absolute emergency?
Fear: Interesting ….
In which we reach a (temporary) agreement.
It took a while and some bartering but we got there.
Basically my fear told me that I have more healing to do. And I tried not to be all, Hello, if I weren’t afraid all the time I wouldn’t be so screwed up … what’s wrong with you?!
Which mostly worked.
I did get my fear to agree that I am now allowed to invoke protection in other forms.
In fact, my fear is going on a kind of a partial sabbatical. We agreed that it can still keep watch to make sure that I am being alert and aware and mindful. And … we’ll see how it goes.
I asked about what was going to happen next and my fear said I had to go do some deep work with my second chakra and then I rolled my eyes and then my fear called me a pussy.
It was delightful.
And really, that’s when everything went crazy and the seriously weird stuff started happening, but we’ll have to talk about that next time.
To Be Continued …