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 #15: meditation edition

Ask Havi Today’s complicated Ask Havi should really be about twenty Ask Havis. It’s a big question — a very broad question — about my thoughts on meditation.

Thoughts? Since I have far too many thoughts on this subject to possibly contain them in a post or even a series of posts, I’m just going to try and respond with the things I think are most important or most helpful.

And will be leaving lots of stuff out.

So please don’t take this as any sort of complete answer.

Because that would be ridiculously impossible.

But enough with the hedging. Here’s the non-question question:

I saw an article on CNN about using Compassion Meditation to learn to be more empathetic toward people you don’t like. The article specifically mentioned how such meditative practices can give you a more positive view of the world. Of course, it got me thinking.

Do you meditate much? If so, is there any special technique you use? I’ve really only done the breathe in, breathe out thing. When I try to visualize things, my thoughts get really…loud.

I suspect that’s very normal. Isn’t it human nature to think about things we’re told to ignore? Don’t think about the pink elephant…you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? I am.

I do not currently meditate. If I sit, I get uncomfortable very quickly. If I lay down, I fall asleep the moment I relax. I also develop a sudden desire to scratch my nose or crack my knuckles. I understand that during meditation, you don’t need to ban these feelings…just acknowledge them and move on. But I can’t get to the moving on part.

I have often thought something like yoga or tai chi, which involve movement, would be a little easier for me to get into. Holding still isn’t really my forte. Being a yoga expert, I’d love to hear your thoughts on using yoga or tai chi as a meditative practice.

Thanks!

Wow. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.

There are more questions in this question than I can answer here. Each aspect of this is a chapter in a book, at least.

But I’m just going to pretend that we’re on a quiz show or a radio interview and that I have to give super quick answers to each one.

Q. “Do you meditate much?”

That depends on your definition of “much”. Compared to my teacher who spends half of each year in a monastery in the Himalayas doing 14 to 20 hours a day of prostrations and silent sitting? Not very much.

But the right amount for me.

My duck and I meditate each morning. Anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour. There was a period of a few months where I’d come out of meditation and it always turned out to be exactly 45 minutes on the dot. But that wasn’t a conscious decision or anything.

After my daily evening yoga practice with my gentleman friend or an afternoon Shiva Nata session with Selma, we also sit for about five minutes or so.

“If so, is there any special technique you use?”

I assume what you’re asking is whether I would recommend a specific technique for you. You don’t want the ones that I use, believe me. Way too complicated.

There are many, many techniques out there and they vary. A lot.

I need to add something here: just sitting or just-sitting-and-breathing is a super-advanced practice. It’s a myth — and an absurd one at that — that we should be able to start there.

Don’t start there.

So many people put so much pressure on themselves because they think they ought to be able to just sit down and focus on the breath. Give yourself a few years before you even try using that as your method. It’s not the place to start.

You’re going to have to experiment a bit.

If visualizing things is stressful, don’t do it. Or: don’t do it for now.

Chanting, mantras, counting prayer beads, pranayama (breathing exercises), repeating a word, keeping your focus on a candle or a picture …

These are all things you can experiment with just to figure out what the sensations that come up are like — for you specifically. And then your practice is just to notice how you react.

And start small for goodness sakes. Five minutes is more than enough to start with.

“Isn’t it human nature to think about things we’re told to ignore?”

Don’t tell yourself to ignore them.

“If I sit, I get uncomfortable very quickly.”

Uh, I’m going to say … that might be your problem right there!

Getting comfortable is important. That’s another myth — that you have to just let yourself be in pain and observe the pain, blah blah blah.

Trust me. Life will give you enough painful situations in which to practice this without you having to recreate it for yourself from scratch each time you meditate.

The first thing I would suggest is to try sitting with your back to a wall, for extra support. Slip a pillow or a folded blanket behind the small of your back so that it isn’t cold or painful.

And then you can put your legs any way that’s comfortable for you. If you fold them, you can prop up your knees with blankets as well.

Just make it a rule that you get to be comfortable. Screw the shoulds and all the “this is the right way to do things and I can’t do it” rules.

Pillows, blankets, blocks, bolsters. Try stuff. See what works.

Also, here’s a revolutionary thought: give yourself permission to move. If you do it consciously and mindfully when you need to, it’s not fidgeting.

In fact, it’s just a natural part of your practice.

Over time, your body will get used to the idea of sitting still and you won’t need to move as much. A good way to help it get better at this is to take some yoga classes. I’d recommend an Iyengar restorative-style class for this just because of the way they teach you to use props.

“I also develop a sudden desire to scratch my nose or crack my knuckles.”

Anyone who says you can’t scratch your nose can go to hell. Go for it. Scratch your nose. I give you permission!

“I understand that during meditation, you don’t need to ban these feelings…just acknowledge them and move on. But I can’t get to the moving on part.”

Right. If you can’t get to the moving on part, that’s the sign that they still haven’t really been acknowledged yet.

Acknowledging is hard work. This can be totally annoying sometimes (sorry!) but yeah, that’s just the way it is. It’s not enough to say “fine, I want to scratch my nose, moving right along!”.

It’s about recognizing that where you are right now in this moment feels uncomfortable. That you are allowed to feel uncomfortable. That you are allowed to hate it. That you are allowed to scratch your nose. That you are allowed to notice that you are upset with yourself for not being able to not scratch your nose.

And then deeper:

That you are allowed to be upset with yourself for being upset with yourself. That you are allowed to think this whole process is annoying and frustrating. That even though you are in a state of deep resistance, this is just where you are at the moment.

That this is temporary and natural and you’re allowed to be there.

Sweetie, right now you’re hurrying the “wanting to move the heck on already” part. It can’t be hurried.

“I have often thought something like yoga or tai chi, which involve movement, would be a little easier for me to get into.”

Yes.

Keep in mind that meditating and meditative are not the same thing, but yoga and other movement practices are useful (and healthy) ways to help prepare your body and your mind for a meditation practice.

Obviously the best way to do that is Shiva Nata (Dance of Shiva), because of the way it makes you use more of your brain than you have ever, ever even thought about using, which ends up with you being able to shut down entirely, but in a good way.

I’ve worked with people (grieving mothers, etc) who were completely unable to meditate due to their extremely stressful situations.

And what we found is that the huge amount of brain power and concentration in Dance of Shiva actually allowed them to finally experience periods of “turning off” and pausing their thoughts.

Which, as you might imagine, is a huge relief to someone in that much pain. If you’re not Shiva-ing it up yet, that’s definitely where I would start. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a big old Shivanaut.

“Holding still isn’t really my forte.”

Yet. ๐Ÿ™‚

In the meantime, don’t make it be about stillness.

And if you’re going to start doing yoga, don’t do forms of yoga that focus on sitting still. Again, Dance of Shiva. Or go do a vinyasa class and sweat it out. Then try relaxing.

Sitting still is not a practice for beginners. It is not accessible to most beginners. It’s something you train yourself to do — slowly, gently, lovingly and over time.

That’s like saying that “fixing plumbing isn’t really my forte” or “painting watercolor landscapes isn’t really my forte”. Why would it be?

Most of us do not come naturally to stillness.

That’s enough for now, I think.

Hope that was helpful and not too overwhelming.

And for those of you who aren’t at all interested in starting a meditation practice, I’m going to go ahead and pretend that maybe you picked up some useful concepts that — who knows — might prove to be fun to think about and apply to other stuff you’re working on. ๐Ÿ™‚

Blogging therapy: de-shouldifying and some questions

And it’s number eleven in our weekly series about making blogging (or the thought of maybe eventually getting around to it) seem more fun and less scary.

But as we all know, this series is not really about blogging. It’s about working on your patterns and figuring out how to do stuff differently.

Should you happen to feel (no pressure!) like catching up, the rest of the series:
Part 1. What if people are mean to me?
Part 2. What if I throw a party and no one shows up?
Part 3. Why even bother when there are already other people doing it better?
Part 4. What do I saaaaaaaaaaaaaaay?
Part 5. Help! Perfectionism! Gaaaaak!
Part 6. But I’m not an EXPERT!
Part 7. Don’t make me be vulnerable!
Part 8. I just don’t have the time!
Part 9. What if someone READS what I wrote?
Part 10. But I’ll never be popular!

Guilt and Shoulds make everything harder.

And that’s where the stuck happens.

We’ve talked about the “should” patterns a gazillion times before. Like when we talked about how you don’t always have to take a deep breath even though everyone says you should. Or my infamous zero guilt email policy.

But if you’re anything like me, you also tend to forget just how much these old, stuckified patterns of I have to do this and no one will like me if I don’t do that can really mess things up for us.

And I’ve been noticing this pattern coming up a lot in the questions people send me. So I think we need to talk about it.

Basically what I’d like to do is to give you permission to take the various rules and shoulds and “this is how things work” stuff that you’ve learned from all the biggified experts (me and my duck included) and toss it all out the window!!.

In fact, I’d love it if — every time one of those shoulds comes up for you — you’d say to it the following:

Hey, I appreciate that you’re trying to help me out by giving me some guidelines, but I happen to know that there are no shoulds in blogging. Selma the duck said so. It’s my experiment and it’s my experience. So I’m going to do this my way, thanks.

Look how much how easier it gets to deal with blogging questions (fresh from my inbox!) if we start pruning out some of the shoulds:

“I want to start a blog, but I just can’t write as much — or as often –as you do! Impossible.”

Yes. Weirdly, this might be the most common thing I hear.

That because I churn out a ridiculously long essay every day, and you can’t, this is somehow a reason not to blog.

The truth is, I’m defying all the blogging rules and shoulds myself. Conventional wisdom says that posts “should” be about a third as long as mine. Oh well.

You know why I write long posts every day? Two reasons.

1. Because I don’t know how to write short posts. It would be annoying and time-consuming for me to have to write short posts. And 2. because my morning writing ritual is therapeutic and healing for me. It feels good.

But that’s no reason that you should write long posts. Your post could be a sentence. Or a link. Or a thought. Or a collection of thoughts.

It’s your thing. The popularity of this very blog that you’re reading right now is proof that conventional wisdom is a load of crap. Or at the very least, that it doesn’t hold for all situations.

Everyone told me, “No one will read posts this long.” Turns out my people will.

Your right people will want the stuff you do in exactly the way that’s right for you to do it.

Not only do you not need to write posts of a certain length, there’s also no reason that you should post every day. Why don’t you start with once or twice a week and see how that feels? Get a rhythm going. Your own rhythm.

If you find that you, like me, get addicted to a morning practice of writing, go with that. But that doesn’t mean you have to publish everything you write. There are no obligations. It’s all practice.

“I want my blog to support my business, but the business doesn’t exist yet. Does it make sense for me to start blogging now?

Yes.*

*When you remove a hundred layers of shoulds, there’s really only ever either a YES or a “I really truly don’t want to and I don’t have to, so no.” In this case, it’s a yes.

“I want my blog to support my business, but the business seems to be constantly changing. I’m not sure yet what I do.

Oh, my dear sweet you. I know how this feels.

Identity crises are a natural part of owning a business. Your business will change shape and keep on changing.

That’s because your business is alive.

And just like your life and your business, blogging is a living, dynamic process. It will change. Steadily and regularly.

The good news though is that you won’t need to do a total overhaul of your blog or your business each time this happens if you remember that the heart of your business is you, wherever you are right now.

YOU are the the center. Your voice, your personality, you.

What I mean is that if your voice and your way of being become the reason we want to hang out with you, it won’t matter much how your blog or your business shift.

I could announce tomorrow (don’t worry, I won’t!) that from now on I’m not going to talk about patterns, habits, fear, guilt, stucknesses, biggification and business-growing.

I could tell you that my plan is to talk about relationships. Or what my yoga practice has taught me about working with addiction. Or even about why I never eat dessert, don’t believe in Mt. Hood and am afraid of dipthongs.

Sure, I’d lose some of you. But most of you would keep on hanging out here. Because it would still be entertaining and we’d still have fun. Plus you know you can’t break up with Selma. Just look at that schweet little face!

Point is: it doesn’t matter.

Toss out that annoying little should. Let things change and evolve as they will. Be yourself and have some fun with it. It will find its form. And your right people will know it when they see it.

A couple more?

Guess what. We can do the same reassuring should-tossing thing for questions about the Blogging Therapy course happening — ohmygod — this weekend:

“I want to take your Blogging Therapy course but I already have a blog.”
Good. We can still zap your fears (but nicely!) and answer your what-ifs and what-about-thats if you’re already blogging it up. You’re welcome to come.

Unless the only thing you’re interested in is getting traffic. If that’s your only thing, wait for a different class.

There’s no rule that says you have to have a blog — or that you can’t have one yet — in order to start using techniques that help you consciously, actively move through the things that are scaring you and holding you back.

If you’ve got stuck stuff around blogging and/or how-to questions of the sort that will never get answered here because I don’t like writing about tech-ey stuff, this is for you.

“I so want to do this course but I still haven’t read all your Blogging Therapy posts! Gak! Sorry. Will I be out of the loop?”

Permission to not have read my stuff? Granted. Show that should the door!

We’ll be covering stuff there that hasn’t come up in the posts, and also going way deeper with some that did. Having to read this stuff could give you some background, but it’s certainly not a requirement.

Should should should should should.

I know it’s not easy interacting with shoulds. And it’s even harder to be nice to them.

The main thing to remember is that you don’t want to ignore them because that makes them louder. And you don’t want to stomp on them because that makes them mad.

A little acknowledgment goes a long way: I see you, I hear you, I know you’re there.

And then tell them that you’ll be able to get a lot more done and get it done faster if they give you a break. Send them out to buy snacks or something. And then gradually replace them.

Last minute stuff.

Right. So the Screw Therapy and Start Blogging course that still doesn’t really have a name is this weekend.

I announced it yesterday and it’s already over half full. Actually, there are four spots left. If one of them is yours, yay! I would love to hang out with you there.

To answer some more questions: no, I’m not going to record.

Apologies to the Aussies and Kiwis and South Africans and the woman in India and everyone who has plans over the weekend. This is an intimate group and we’re talking about intimate stuff, and I want it to be a safe, cozy place for us to open up in.

As for “will I do it again?” … yes. However — and this is kind of a big however — I need to tell you something.

As some of you know I’m about to launch my Next Big Thing. I wasn’t going to say this yet because I really don’t want to be hyping it up. I’m really hoping that only my right people will end up applying for it.

But, just so you know, everyone who signs up for both Blogging Therapy classes will get to take that tuition off of the Thing I Can’t Tell You About Yet.

So if you’re thinking about this course and you’re planning on doing the New Thing That I’m Not Supposed To Talk About But Embarrassingly Can’t Stop Talking About with me anyway, just do it now so that you’re not mad at me when the New Thing happens.

We’re done.

Tomorrow we get to goof off again, and then we’re back to Blogging Therapy next week. See you there. *blows kiss*

[Ed. Just to say that registration for the Blogging Therapy course I mentioned here closed a few hours after I posted this. So if you’re not in this one I’ll see you in the next one. Thanks guys!]

Screw the therapy. Start blogging.

Last Tuesday we were doing our usual Blogging Therapy thing, and I ended up wondering out loud about who among my lovely readers was putting this stuff into practice.

In other words, which people had either started a blog, revived a blog or restructured a blog after getting all hot and bothered (in a good way, yes?) by this series.

Partly because I was wondering whether these posts were having any effect in the real world, other than making people feel better.*

*Which is also important — I’m not trying to downplay the sparkly wonder that is feeling better … yay for feeling better.

And partly because I could really use some more good stuff to read.

And not just to read, but to be able to tell people about. Stuff that’s so real — so alive — that reading it will help the people I care about feel joyful and reassured and full of love.

Ahem, I’m talking to you, Ms Wormy! Tell me when I can link to you!

But I digress.

Here’s what I’ve learned, so far:

Eight people reported that this series lit the spark and gave them that friendly push to go ahead and launch a blog already.

Five people said they’d drastically changed the focus/style of their blog due to this series.

Also we’ve got two resuscitations of blogs that had been fairly neglected.

And I’ve lost count of the number of people who wrote and said that they’re feeling good about moving forward with this, and will be working on writing some exploratory posts over their holiday vacation in the upcoming weeks.

No really, I have lost count. Don’t make me go back and count them.

Additionally, three clients that I had sessions with with this week also mentioned their plans to “get this thing rolling already”. And there was much rejoicing.

Which gave me an idea …

Actually, that wasn’t at all what gave me the idea. What gave me the idea was a very intense round of wacky yoga brain training, but I’ll tell you about that on Friday.

Getting to the point …

If you guys (or several of you, at least) are going to be spending a good part of the holidays making progress on blogging it up — or on thinking about blogging it up — I am committed to making space where I can be there with you to hold your hand.

If you want me there, of course.

So I’ve put together a mini-course. A Let’s Get This Show On The Road course. A Screw Therapy and Get Blogging course.

A You Know, Even if You’re Not Ready Yet, I Love You Just The Same So Please Let Me Whisper Sweet Words of Guilt-free Encouragement In Your Ear Course.

Fine, so I don’t really have a name for it. That’s not the point.

There are two (well, three) parts to this course.

Class #1: Moving through the fear
A small, cozy group of us spends two hours together working on the various fears and scariness that comes up for us around this theme. Taking what we’ve started in the Blogging Therapy series and going way, way deeper.

I won’t try to talk you out of being scared, because that would be obnoxious. You’re absolutely allowed to have as much fear as happens to be there at the moment.

We’ll use some great techniques to make things feel more comfortable and more do-able, but no one will tell you that you’re wrong to be afraid.

By the end you’ll feel that tingly excitement of possibility. The spark. We love the spark.

And in addition to being destuckified, you’ll also have some Useful Tricks for calming yourself down whenever you need it.

Class #2: Oh, the technical details
This is where you bring all your “what-ifs” and “I don’t know how to do thats”.

My duck will be there and my wonderful web-guy/designer genius will be there for extra support.

And if there is anything that comes up that one of us isn’t able to answer, we have access to a whole cadre of biggified experts, so you will absolutely get answers on whatever it is.

Two hours on working through stucknesses that are related to the technical side of things or the fear of the technical side of things. And you’ll come out of it knowing what all your Next Steps are.

But I thought you said there were three parts!

There are. Kind of.

You can do the classes individually, or sign up for both together, which saves you money and also gets you an invitation to the mysterious Part Three.

Should you decide to sign up for both, you get invited to a follow-up class (Class #3), which happens two weeks later. That’s where you get to show up with every single question or worry or setback that came up for you during the two weeks you were working on it or thinking about it.

And Selma and I will help you with them.

Small print, sign-up details, etc.

Each class by itself is $99. Selma and I would love it if you’re able to do both, which you can do for $129 all told, and that also gets you an invite to class #3 — my treat!

Classes happen by phone — you’ll get a call-in number. But we won’t spend the whole time on the phone. You’ll also get a short chunk of time to yourself to work on an assignment.

Class 1 is Saturday December 20th
Class 2 is Sunday, December 21
Class 3 (if you’ve signed up for both 1 & 2) is Sunday, January 4th.

All classes take place from from 12:00 pm – 2:00pm PST.

If you’re not sure what time that is for you, ask the time converter nicely and he’ll tell you.

But yeah, that’s this weekend!!

Limited to ten people in each class. First come first served and all that.

Sign up happens right here:
If you’re reading this in a feed and can’t see the buttons, just click through because they’re definitely here!

[Ed. This course sold out in a day and a half. Thanks guys!]










And now for an apology and an unrelated gripe …

Apologies to everyone reading today who couldn’t care less about this.

I’m sorry. That’s no fun for you. Luckily, we’ll be back to working-on-your-stuff stuff tomorrow!

Yes, I said stuff stuff. Because I can.

But I mainly said it to get back at Lauren Collins for saying “de-stuffification” in the last New Yorker. Ahem. Lauren, we all know you’re a fine writer. You don’t need to steal my made-up words and then rejigger them for a restaurant review. Really!

Also, is de-stuffification supposed to be a removal of stuff or a removal of stuffiness? One hardly knows.

*sniff*

That’s it!

See you guys tomorrow with real, live Blogging Therapy …

Someone else’s personal ad, for a change

Hey, so remember when I wrote a personal ad, in the hopes that my ideal home would somehow find me and fall in love with me?

And that seemed like a really weird thing to do, except that whoah, I’m living there right now?

Well, my wonderful friend Kelly Parkinson has written one too. Except not for a house.

She’s biggifying her business (for which I accept partial blame!) and is looking for a collaborator-writer-type who can join her team on a project basis. She sent it to me because supposedly I know all sorts of smart, interesting creative types, and I suggested that we put it up here.

For two reasons:
1. A lot of cool people read this. Way more than if I just forwarded it to whoever I thought of first.
2. I thought it would be useful for you to see how someone else did this whole “personal ad” thing.

Actually, also because I’m crazy about Kelly. She’s a terrific copywriter and has given me so many great tips and feedback for my own writing, not to mention all sorts of other useful business advice.

She’s also a kind, caring friend — even if she did completely bully me into starting this blog, for which (just for the record) I am eternally grateful.

And she’s the one who made me realize that I’m actually good at writing. Like, business writing. That was a huge vote of confidence just when I needed it most. We love Kelly. Also her business is called Copylicious. Which is adorable.

Anyway, she wrote a personal ad.

Read it. Consider it. Pass it around.

If you write and love writing, talk to Kelly.

Wanted: Copywriter-Collaborator

I’m looking for someone smart who knows how to write and isn’t a flake.

You’re crazy about books. You collect active verbs. You obsess over the order of words in a sentence.

And you have this knack for getting people to believe in your crazy ideas. Maybe you convinced a hundred people to sponsor your charity ride. Or you persuaded investors to fund a puppet show production. Or you sell tamales.

Whatever it is, you’re interested in things. Lots of things. Maybe too many things. And it would be nice to have another income stream–and a learning opportunity–that rewards curiosity and enthusiasm.

That’s where I’m hoping we can help each other.

For the past year, I’ve been suffering from what people keep telling me is a “good problem.” My copywriting business is now taking up my evenings and weekends. I want to keep growing, but I can’t do it on my own. Enter you.

I’d like to collaborate with you, smart, non-flaky writer. You’ll get a flat-fee for each project (based on an hourly rate of $50), and also a quarterly performance bonus.

I’ll handle all the client stuff and the strategy stuff and the marketing stuff. Your job, and your only job, will be to write (and self-edit!). You’ll write websites, lead-gen emails, landing pages, white papers, and more.

This could take up to 12 hours a week of your time. Or less. Or more. Let’s work something out. I’m looking for a long-term relationship that helps both of us grow.

If you’re new to copywriting but have been writing as long as you’ve been walking, I will help you.

We will collaborate. And at the end of the day, you will get paid well for doing what you love.

Future writer-collaborator, I hope you’ll introduce yourself.

Please send an email — kp AT copylicious DOT com with:

  • Your name and phone number.
  • Brief description of your situation. Are you a full-time employee, a stay-at-home mom, a journalist, just someone wanting to make a change?
  • Your availability during the week for copywriting projects. When are you available, and how many hours could you handle?
  • The last time you were really excited about something.
  • ONE writing sample (links are fine). It can be anything, as long as you wrote it and you’re proud of it. At this point, I just want to get a sense of your voice.

Thanks รขโ‚ฌโ€œ and I’ll respond to your email within 24 hours!
Kelly

I can’t wait to find out what comes from this!

Honestly, I’m all tingly just thinking about it.

Between the bright, capable people who read this blog and the weird magical power of writing a loving personal ad and putting it out into the world, I have a good feeling about this.

And I hope it inspires you to write one too. An ideal job? The perfect partner? The blog readers you wish you had? The worst thing that can come out of this exercise is that you get a little more clarity around what you’d like to have in your life, and maybe some insights about where you get stuck.

I’ll report back about the Kelly situation on Friday. And if I don’t, remind me!

Friday Check-in #19: inlaws edition

Friday chickenBecause 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.

Okay, this week was kind of intense. I’m still processing. I don’t even know if I’m ready to check in on it, to be honest. But what I can totally check in on is the long weekend at the kinda-inlaws.

They’re not officially my inlaws. It’s just too much of a mouthful to say “the parents and sisters and nephews of my gentleman friend”.

Though I like saying that because it sounds like I’m German. Anyway, it was an interesting weekend.

The good stuff made the hard stuff a lot easier to take, but it still took a lot out of me.

The hard stuff

Noise level: the thing that most directly impacts my stress level.

Dogs! Cats! Five rambunctious nephews! A piano! Kids playing it! Christmas music! Geese! The volume was steady, constant and intense.

So yes, my gentleman friend and I both emerged from the weekend relatively unscathed but with splitting headaches.

And I, highly sensitive person* that I am, spent the rest of the week in hiding/recovery mode, refusing to engage in contact with pretty much anyone other than my gentleman friend and Selma.

*Sorry for the kind of sucky link. I couldn’t find a page that had a great explanation of the characteristics of Highly Sensitive People.

Hell.

The family of my gentleman friend are of the opinion that he and I are headed there, and as such they harbor all sorts of fears for our everlasting souls.

This results in all sorts of uncomfortableness.

For one thing, it is hard for me to reconcile these sweet lovely people, each one of whom I genuinely care for, with the notion that they really, truly want my gentleman friend to turn into someone else.

In fact, they want him to become someone I wouldn’t get along with at all.

Add to that the pain and sadness I feel each time I think about what it’s like for a child to grow up with that level of fear and dread. The trauma.

And then there is my sincere wish they would just let it go already. But they love him, and are genuinely worried — so this is not a likely scenario.

And the truth is, that even if they did let it go, being a huge Jew in a room full of evangelical Christians? It’s just awkward in so many ways.

Stuff I absolutely can’t say.

The sister of my gentleman friend homeschools her kids. Which is not a big deal. I am very pro-homeschooling and always have been.

It’s just that I also have a degree in History from Tel Aviv University.

So the “historical timeline” on their wall tracing “history” from Creation to The Fall to The Flood to Babel to Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece and Ancient China …

Drives. Me. Batty.

Sure, I’m willing to accept that there are many possible interpretations of available textual data. Or to allow that there aren’t really any firm “facts” in history because of the twisted nature of historiography and our relationship to it.

In fact, I can come up with various post-modernist arguments that excuse all sorts of things. But not this.

Since it would be the height of rudeness for me to publicly react to this, I end up having this muttering dialogue taking place inside my head.

And that’s before I get around to contemplating the awful, awful set-in-stone gender roles.

Seriously, I could write a week of blog posts on my feelings about the Focus on the Family Raising a Modern Day Knight: A Father’s Role in Guiding His Son to Authentic Manhood” audiotapes, complete with cover image of a father brandishing a sparkly, manly sword, presumably handing it over to his precious and impressionable son.

Luckily for you, I won’t.

Loss of identity. Or perceived identity. Or perceived loss of identity.

This one is messy, I know.

It’s just that — well, you spend your days having certain perceptions or ideas about yourself. Like, I’m a successful businesswoman. I’m a blogger. I live my life in the most conscious, intentional way I can with yoga and meditation and self-reflection.

Blah blah blippity blah.

And then you remember what ridiculous and irrelevant constructs these are when you’re spending three days with people who think of you as “the ladyfriend of our son/brother/uncle”.

Or, if you’re Jesse (who’s three), you think of me as “that smiley lady whose nose I like to touch and then yell BOP! and then collapse in giggles because clearly this is the best game in the entire world.” (which it is.)

But it’s weird. It’s disconcerting. It’s like, all of a sudden your entire life as you know it doesn’t exist.

No one to tell stuff to.

For example, over the weekend Selma and I got fanmail from a super famous person I’ve been admiring from afar for years.

Ooh, and I got interviewed by a journalist for a piece that’s going to be in the New York freaking Times.

But neither of these pieces of information are interesting or impressive to any of the twelve people I was sharing space with. And my phone was dead so I couldn’t even call someone who would care to say OMG OMG OMG.

Torture. Yes, I missed you guys. I know you’re all excited for me. Thank you. Which leads me … finally … to the good stuff.

The good stuff

Tea with Jane.

The mother of my gentleman friend really is the sweetest ever and I love her.

Seeing her is my favorite part of the visit. By a lot.

In fact, if I could just spend the whole weekend having tea with her, petting the (non-goose) animals and playing the nose-BOP game with Jesse, that would be pretty great.

Rolling around around the floor.

The good parts of any visit always involve much schnuggling and playing with the various dogs (Phoebe, Penny & Samson) and cats (Olive & Hobbes).

I adore them all.

And three year old Jesse who also made a shocking Declaration of Love to me and then turned bright pink. So so cute.

Citrus!

Mmmm, yes. I had not realized how much I missed that particular aspect of living in California until we arrived in Sacramento and my friend Michelle came to meet me with oranges from the tree in her yard.

Amazing.

Also the other sister of my gentleman friend has a baby orchard* and let us pick lemons and grapefruit. Pure happiness.

*I don’t mean to imply that she grows babies there, only that the orchard is very small, yes?

Sackermenno

We flew into Sacramento before driving way out into the wilderness to where the kinda-inlaws live.

In my mind, Sacramento is just that place we stayed for a while when we left San Francisco and were still on our way to Portland. But going back there made me remember that there were actually all sorts of things I loved about it.

We had lunch downtown at our absolute favorite sandwich place in the world. Dad’s Deli. I’d link to them but they’re doing that “we don’t get how the world works” thing that small businesses do. They have a website, but I can’t find it. Argh.

But anyway, we visited old stomping grounds and it was great. Everything was familiar and comfortable. It was oddly nostalgia-inducing.

Plus I got to spend a couple of hours with Michelle who is my love.

Most important thing?

We won’t be doing any of this again until next December.

Excuse me now, while I dive back under the covers return to my recovery-mode rituals for the weekend.

Oh, and an announcement:

Jennifer Hofmann! That woman! Oh, how I obsess over her.

There’s still a spot or two left in her Make Sweet Love To Your Office So That You Can Actually Feel Supported and Motivated When You’re Working thing.

Okay, that’s not what she calls it at all. That’s what I call it. Because I happen to know that the two-hour version of this class is heaven on earth.

This one is five hours of awesome. And I’m going to be there teaching some destuckification tricks with my duck. And Jen’s throwing in her Wish Kit package too.

Basically, even if you can’t make it at all, you should still try and snag the “get an hour of her time” option because you still get an hour of her time (I’ve hired Jen before and wow) and the Kit for just under a hundred dollars. Which is ridiculous.

It’s TOMORROW. I hope I’ll see you there.

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 Fluent Self