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 #14: the “twisted fantasy” edition

The Blogging Therapy posts have given birth to all kinds of commotion in my inbox.
And since I compulsively have to share things with you, today’s awesome and anonymous Ask Havi question is pulled — with the asker’s permission, of course — out of that file.
If you haven’t been keeping up with the Blogging Therapy posts, no worries. Jump right on in. We were talking last time about anonymity and the fear of being known or discovered.
More on this whole fear of being known thing.
Also known as fear of love.
Thank you so much for these posts. You keep saying stuff in a particular way that NO ONE ELSE does — you definitely speak my language. I have serious lightbulbs flashing almost every time I read something you write.
Some of my recent favorites have been your Blogging Therapy posts which shoot straight to my heart because I’ve been thinking about starting a blog.
Actually, I have started a blog, only it’s password-protected and just my super-secret hidden thing right now.
Anyway, my question is basically the opposite of “Why aren’t my friends reading my blog?”
And that is OH GOD WHAT DO I DO IF SOMEONE I KNOW IN REAL LIFE READS IT?
(I know I could go anonymous but I think that would just lead to paranoia surrounding keeping it secret…)
Pouring out stuff to random strangers on the internet doesn’t seem weird to me at all. But if I run into someone I know at my neighborhood coffeeshop, and they mention my blog, and then I know that they know all this STUFF about me? My cheeks are red just thinking about it.
Oh! And the worst part. My boyfriend’s ex, who maybe doesn’t have super-positive feelings about me, I know occasionally searches for me online. In my dark fantasy world, I put this blog out there, maybe get a little vulnerable and real, talk about my truth, and my audience consists of absolutely NO ONE but my boyfriend’s ex.
That is seriously the voice I hear whenever I’m writing anything and consider putting it out there. Crazy huh?
Oh, not crazy at all. This sounds pretty normal to me!
It actually reminds me of my biggest fear when I first launched my site — that people from my old super-cool hipster bartender life would end up reading it and mocking me mercilessly for having become a cheesy embarrassing yoga person.
And I’m sure that’s totally happened.
Things to keep in mind.
You don’t have to write about everything.
Good grief. I have all sorts of things that are off-limits.
You may have noticed that I don’t mention my family much. Exactly.
There are all sorts of things that I may write about someday, but if it happens, it will be a. after I’ve done a lot more healing and b. many, many years after a lot of people are gone. And even then I don’t know if that’s really stuff I want to share.
The act of writing is — in and of itself — healing.
That means that you can write stuff you don’t publish.
And you can write stuff that — through the act of being published and going out to the world — resolves some of your stuckification around those memories.
I’ve experienced that here so many times. I’ve written about something hard and painful and people have shown up with so much love and support that it’s completely overwhelming.
You start to realize, ohmygosh, I’m surrounded by people who are also in this process of working on their stuff. My insights are relevant to them. My pain is their pain.
It stops being so scary, because you realize that your own process has value. That your collection of scars is a sign of strength, not a sign of weakness.
This is about the fear of being known.
And the fear of being known is about love. About not being able to be loved. About not feeling worthy of being loved. Or suspecting that you’re not worthy of being loved.
A very, very human thing.
The fear says that if people know what we’re really like, they couldn’t possibly love us for who we are. Or at all, for that matter.
And so we find ways to close ourselves off from people who would love us. And from ourselves. And from moments of intimacy and connection.
So part of working on this pattern is allowing yourself to feel safe not wanting to be loved. It’s okay. Eventually you’ll get to the point where you do feel safe being loved and adored.
Right now though, it’s absolutely fine to notice that you’re not at a point where you’re ready to receive. You’re at a point where all you can do is notice where you’re at and be patient with that.
Even though we’re not ready to be known (yet), we’re practicing.
We’re practicing letting ourselves be human. We’re practicing noticing our pain and giving that pain some attention. We’re practicing noticing what we need and asking for it. That’s where we are.
Dark, creepy fantasies about people hating you? Completely normal.
You’re not alone.
Not in the tiniest bit.
In fact, let’s all share some of our horrible, sick, twisted shameful fear-driven blogging fantasies.
I’ll go first. And then I challenge you to come up with something at least as embarrassing!
Here we go.
Scenario 1. In which I get exposed as a horrible person …
My ex-husband (or someone in his family or his new wife) finds this blog and is appalled and horrified that someone as psychotic as me would dare to give anyone advice on anything, ever.
Then of course they out me as the awful person they know me to be.
They jump right in to the comments and point out that I was a terrible wife, by any standard. That I was drunk a lot of the time, emotionally unavailable all the time, refused to even consider quitting smoking and was generally … shall we say erratic in my behavior, at best.
They then add that you are all complete morons to be deceived by someone like me, and that even though I look really sweet and have a duck on my shoulder, it’s all an act.
Scenario 2. In which I get bawled out and don’t even understand why …
My parents, who hardly ever read this, randomly stop by today and throw a fit, as is their wont, about some tiny, obscure aspect that I never would have even thought of as being problematic or controversial.
Honestly, now that I think about it … I cannot believe that this hasn’t already happened at least a hundred times.
Scenario 3. In which I and everything about me are lame and embarrassing…
Obviously the current girlfriend of my ex (not my ex-husband, I mean the one who broke my heart) is way too cool to ever read this blog or even care, but somehow she hears about it.
And what cracks her up completely is that my ex ever could have been in love with someone as thoroughly square and hopelessly embarrassing as me. And then he tries to explain that I used to be hot and witty and mean but I lost my charm.
How the whole city of Tel Aviv was insanely in love with me, and I rolled filterless cigarettes and got in fights with people and could drink everyone but the Russians under the table. And even some of the Russians.
Then I got hooked on yoga and then became a businesswoman and isn’t it tragic that I suck so much?
And then they share a sweet, existential moment and feel completely sorry for me.
And of course they’re in Paris or Amsterdam or something, leading the kind of cosmopolitan, bohemian intellectual life that I used to live before I became the kind of person who goes to bed at 9pm and keeps a toy duck for company.
I could go on.
Oh, how I could go on. But I won’t. It’s your turn.
I know you’re thinking, this isn’t funny at all. What if these things actually happen?
Well, they might. It’s not all that likely but it could come to pass that one of the made-up things we dread could actually happen.
And if it does, you’ll deal with it. Your readers (because by then you’ll totally have readers) will stand by you. Not just by you but up for you.
You’ll find strength in the people that you are helping, in the ways your words have made a difference. And you’ll remember that anyone who doesn’t get that has bigger issues than just not liking your blog.
You’ll remember that this process of learning to practice vulnerability while still keeping yourself safe is a pretty big deal. That the practice is the thing that sustains you.
It’s the thing that brings you closer to yourself.
And the nice thing about being close to yourself is that it makes it a lot easier to release the need for outside legitimacy (aka to not give a flying fig what anyone else thinks about you).
Easier said than done, yes. But that’s why we’re here.
Friday Check-in #18: the “on the road” 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 oh boy oh boy.
Busiest Friday ever.
Actually, I’m about to get on a plane. But enough about today. Let’s review the week. Yallah.
The hard stuff
Buying music.
I was buying music this week … some of it for me, some as presents for people I love … and whenever I find something I like, I want to share it with my friend who killed himself.
Because — of course — despite the fact that I spend so much of my time missing him, talking to him, yelling at him and crying over him, I still manage to forget.
Every single time I somehow forget that he’s gone until the very moment I think about how much he’ll like hearing some new song I’ve just discovered.
And each time I remember, it seems equally sad. Equally unfair. Equally incomprehensible.
Some of what I can’t share with him? Calvin Marty. Ian Lawler. John Vester and his song Lucky You which I can’t stop playing.
Family issues.
I don’t really want to go into it, but let’s just say there’s a family crisis happening back in Israel right now and I feel crummy about not being there. And of course at the same time I don’t want to be there.
Actually I should at least make some calls, but the whole thing is just getting me down.
Hardest part of the week: still ahead of me.
We’re taking a trip to visit my gentleman friend’s parents and sisters. It’s easier than visiting my family, yes, but it’s still high stress.
They’re lovely people. Who live in a very, very small town. And pretty much everything I would ever speak about is off-limits, conversationally speaking.
Also I suck at pretending that things that mess with my routine are okay with me.
Selma is coming along as a stowaway. I am going to do my best.
The good stuff
Oh this is so great.
Every time I get an email that makes me go “Whoah, best testimonial ever!”, the next one is even better.
This one — from the charming Nathan Briggs over in Scotland — made me laugh more than most. He kindly agreed to let me share it with you.
Just a quick (ha – yeah right!) not to express the following sentiment:-
HOLY SHIT THIS HIPPY CRAP WORKS
I haven’t even go through your Procrastination Dissolve-o-Matic course fully once yet (and I’ve already got a load of ideas for stuff I want to cuddle up and get all fluffy with), but in the last month alone I’ve:
- made several phonecalls, including many I’ve been putting off for months
- done a few little coding jobs, and one pretty big one (yay, monies!)
- got a great rep at a private marketing forum by doing little coding jobs for members, and coding a great tool for their free use
- got approached by someone I admire very much to joint venture on programming and selling a tool – with me getting to keep most of the monies (he just wants the tool to use on his own sites)
- got approached by another person I admire loads to do a number of jobs & joint ventures, and he’s offered support on selling anything else I come up with in the future
- did I mention I’m getting married on Saturday? 😀
I’m rather happy. And panicky, but – here’s the huge thing – COPING WITH IT and not being pissed at myself. Wow!
*bounce bounce bounce*
Exactly. Coping with it. Not being pissed at myself. Getting stuff done. Happy sigh.
Everyone cheer for Nathan. He deserves it.
Naomi calling me. On me being a jerk.
So I have this weird disease that causes me to be terrible at goodbyes. Even symbolic non-goodbyes like your favorite person moving to England next week.
So in my head I know that Naomi and I can keep doing our talk/complain/commiserate/cheer-up thing that we do a few times a week. Even if she is in England.
I mean, it’s just a time difference.
But my weird disease says that this is a parting and as such I should do the awful thing I do which is to disappear and ignore the person I love until they feel hurt and hate me.
Naomi doesn’t put up with that kind of crap, thankfully. Also she might be my cyber-stalker. Because she just keeps calling every single number that might reach me until I pick up.
Anyway, she assured me that she will still be stalking me and insulting my duck from afar and that my mental health as well as hers needs us to be talking several times a week. End of flare-up. Disease is either gone or in remission.
I love Naomi.
Space.
Jen did her awesome Office Spa Day thing where she reminds you that if you stop feeling guilty about the piles and go make sweet sweet love to your workspace, everything about your life will be better.
I’m addicted, so I show up every month. And beat people off with sticks so they can’t take my spot.
Anyway, fun! And I did away with a certain pile who shall not be named. Life is good.
Even better: as I was soaking up all that delicious spaciousness and love, Jen called and asked if I’d be a guest destuckification expert on a special holiday version of Office Spa Day.
Would I ever!!!
Right. So it’s five hours to practice making peace with your office space and getting stuff under control. I’ll teach an emergency calming technique or something wacky and destuckifying. And Jen will do her magic.
And we’ll all clear out some space and feel safe and supported and loved so we can get better at doing the stuff we’re really supposed to be doing in the world.
I tried to talk Jen into charging about five times as much but not only would she not listen to me, she’s throwing in her Wish Kit as a present too. Sigh. You can’t have my spot (I have a stick!) but there are a few more.
It’s December 13. I’ll see you there, right?
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.
Giving.
I’m feeling kind of conflicted.
To begin with, I’m not a fan of “stuff”. As you probably know. Objects, clutter, junk, things, possessions. Whatever you want to call them. It’s not my deal.
Partly because of the “I’m a nomad who’s moved countries three times” thing. Partly because of my yoga-centric obsession with simplicity and simple living. And maybe mostly because of the environmental thing.
Yes, I’m a big hippie. And yes, if it were up to me … well, never mind. I don’t want to get into a discussion of my dictatorial tendencies.
Let’s just say that a. the “holiday season” here in North America brings up all sorts of junk for me, and b. if you haven’t read World Without Us, read it now.
At the same time giving feels good, of course, and giving can also be a huge part of a spiritual or self-work practice. We like the giving. Lots.
But I’m going to consciously rein in my philosophizing tendencies and just try and come up with some useful thoughts in response to some of the questions I’ve been getting about gift-related holiday stress.
Actually, skip that. I’m just going to give you the abbreviated Philosophy of Giving that Selma the Duck and I live by, at least when we remember to.
Also, one or two or three semi-quirky personal recommendations. Just because.
Selma and Havi’s Gift-Giving Philosophy.
Understand this principle:
You can’t get out of it, but you can get around it.
Basically, you’re probably going to have to give people stuff even if you personally happen to think this whole exchange-of-stuff tradition is a terrible idea.
And since the holiday giving tradition is hard to get out of — and it’s actually really fun when people are all excited to get stuff from you — the trick is to find things that are good to give.
The things that I can feel happy about giving (or at least okay about) pretty much fall into three categories.
1. Gifts of knowledge.
Books, ebooks, audio products, anything that has Useful Information.
Stuff like World Without Us. Is it depressing? Yeah, a little. But it’s also uplifting. And it makes people think about the world we live in.
Also, Alan Weisman is a very kind person, and actually wrote me a sweet email in response to my gushing fan letter. It was the kind of fan letter that should really have elicited a good, old-fashioned restraining order, but he took it very well.
Other recommendations?
- Andrea J. Lee is giving away the ebook version of her Multiple Streams of Coaching Income. Like, giving it to you. For nothing. You should get it. Even if you don’t ever plan on coaching anyone. Good stuff.
- Jennifer Louden’s Life Organizer. Like it sounds, only better.
- Naomi’s excellent Online Business School.
And really, for Useful Information, it’s sometimes most satisfying just to browse your local (independent!) bookstore and pick the brains of the tome-lovin’ people who work there.
2. Gifts of inspiration.
Beautiful things that people can enjoy and reflect on. It’s a great way to support artists and musicians too.
In my mind, the real gift is going to the creative person I’m supporting, and the “getting to give it to someone I like” part is totally for my own pleasure.
If it’s art with some practical function — such as “you can drink from it” or “you can wrap yourself up in it”, so much the better.
Music is one of the best and most inspiring gifts possible — and in that regard, I like mp3s instead of CDs. You know, the whole packaging thing.
Recommendations?
- I really like Miya’s beautiful ceramic stuff — both wacky and very affordable. Plus, she actually works in a real, live cheese shop (which, by the way, is Jennifer Louden’s sick, twisted fantasy). Also, I love her.
- If you know anyone who makes stuff from yarn (uh, I think that’s called knitting?), the most gorgeous stuff ever is at the Blonde Chicken Boutique.
You probably know Tara from the comments. She’s one of our very own Fluent Self-ified fans and she rocks. I know you’re thinking yarn?! It’s not like that.
- Not a jewelry person at all, but I did buy a very pretty plate from Stacey, another Twitter connection.
- I also just ordered music on CDbaby.com (oh, how I love them). Calvin Marty and the Sunken Ship. Also some heal-the-world lullabies from Eliana Gilad.
3. Gifts of meaning.
I guess this is already a theme of this post, but seriously, what about supporting your small, scrappy local businesses or giving something that’s good for the world?
Greenish gifts. Stuff you make. Stuff you can eat.
You can’t really go wrong with edible — and it’s a great way to opt out of the “here’s some more stuff for you to put on a shelf and have to dust” kind of thing, but still show you care. Nourishment! Symbolism! Happy memories!
Also, who doesn’t like food? Yum. Food.
Recommendations?
Find something in your own neighborhood. If yours is inhospitable to small and localness (and there are so so many that are), then how about:
- Alima, of course. Alima is the name of an amazingly great (read: integrity like crazy) Portland company that makes natural cosmetics.
I’m assuming you don’t want to get caught in the middle of one of my rants about the toxic cosmetic industry. Let’s just say that if you’re going to put stuff on your face, get the kind that isn’t evil. Aside from not being evil, Alima’s stuff is beautiful and very affordable. I love this company.
- Sock Dreams. This is where I get all my socks. Portland business. Woman-owned. If you are a stripey sock addict (i.e. a girl), this is the best place ever.
- If you know people with babies who (the people, not the babies) are earth-friendly types (or aren’t easily offended), you can get sweet and adorable cloth diapers from the lovely Renee at Sweet Cheeks Diapers in Vancouver, BC.
They’re paying for shipping during the holidays too.
Ooh, another thing (three things?) I forgot to mention:
Jennie will kill me if I talk about gifts and then — oy vavoy — neglect to mention No Limit Texas Dreidel. So I’m mentioning it.
Jennie is on a mission to make Hannukah less lame, and she’s doing a fine job. No Limit Texas Dreidel, people.
The other thing I should mention is that Modern Tribe, her gorgeous and surprisingly hip Judaica shop, is also doing holiday sales.
Amazing stuff there. Jennie helps a ton of small-studio artists put their stuff out into the world. And FYI, she gave me a discount code. It’s HAVIBFF and gets you 15% off whatever you order through December 31. Rock on, say I.
The last thing I’m mentioning is just that I really, really am not into receiving presents for Hannukah.
I’m not kidding. Please don’t get me anything for Hannukah, okay?
In fact, my recommendation would be that if you want to get jew-ey presents for any of your jewish and jew-positive friends, get stuff now while it’s on sale, but then stick it in the closet for a few months.
I know it’s totally sweet that you think of us while you’re having a holiday and want to include us in the celebrating — thank you! — but it’s totally one of our least significant holidays. Right up there (or down there, I guess) with the birthday of the trees.
If you’re not wishing me a happy new year on Rosh HaShana and commiserating with me while I’m scrubbing the house top to bottom for Pesach, and praising my blintzes on Shavuot … there’s really no reason to randomly get me something for Hannukah.
Though you’re a schweetheart for thinking of me. Still, I’d much rather that you just hang out with me here while I rant about stuff. Ohmygod, you’re doing it right now. I adore you.
That’s it. Nothing more to see here.
Thanks for letting me share my gift-giving philosophy.
Now you’ll be slightly less offended when Selma and I show up at your next birthday with home-baked bread, the link to an ebook and our dog-eared copy of World Without Us.

This just in: I just read Naomi’s post about what she’s doing to help this abused woman get out of an awful, awful situation.
It’s one of her clients. And I would do the same for one of mine. So scrap everything and go spend your money there. Or do something for her in addition to whatever else you’re doing. But come help.
Item! I have nothing to say about rhubarb!
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.
Hmmm … third time in a row.
I’m starting to feel like I’m making a Wednesday commitment to the goofy. But it’s good. I mean, we kinda need something to balance out all the heavy.
As one woman wrote in response to Monday’s post about writing, trauma and healing,
I’ve now cried at my desk three times in the last week. So next week you have to write about rhubarb. Or the Ice Capades. Or duck-shaped night lights. 😉
I have nothing to say about rhubarb. Yet. But hey, a bunch of random stuff!
Item! This blog is endlessly fascinating.
It’s called Eat Repeat and I’ll just give you the description.
Agoraphobic newly married cooks incessantly for husband but eats the same five things for every meal. Except when she eats out. Then she eats everything. Wonder why.
I happen to know the author, but you really don’t need any backstory because it’s all about the pictures. And taking comfort in someone else documenting their personal process of … whatever it is, you know?
Love that she’s doing this. Can’t stop reading it.

Item! This is a great list.
Every once in a while it’s nice to read a list. This one is a good one.
Courtesy of one of my favorite Twitterites @d_paul

Item! This made me so happy!
Remember how I said that my friends don’t read my blog? Well, my third-grade best friend does now because she found it on Facebook.
I was so overjoyed that I gave her all my products.
(Please note the huge, huge perks that come with being the person who once got sent home from school for beating up a snotty kid named Jason because he called me a crybaby.)
And … you know what she wrote back?
I’ve now used the Emergency Calming audio several times. Just tried it at work for the first time. I was getting really stressed about [ … ] , and it was SO NICE to be able to just close my door and spend 10 minutes calming down. I’ve never had anything really work for me before like that.
Seriously, how amazing is that? I know!

Item! We all need more sleep!
No, really. You need it. You need to sleep more. Read it.

Item! Graffito!
I love saying graffito. Seriously. Also, take a look at this sweet timelapse video of GIANT Berlin graffito. And not just because it takes place on the side of a building in my favorite city ever.

Item! I’m not alone!
Sometimes I need to make fun of things. Especially corporate-ey bullshit things.
Pre-Twitter I used to do this in my head. No longer.
Anyway, that was where I made the following request, based on a random and disturbing bio I’d found:
Someone translate this into English? “Building out platform companies by creating and implementing process-driven hyperbolic growth.”
My own suggestion was “Let’s think out of the box and play a bigger game while leveraging our ability to productize our resources and choke on our own inanity.”
But I have to share some of the responses I got because they were so, so great:
-
techherding Cost effectively collaborating with trusted colleagues to grow revenue, increase innovation, and enhance productivity
- jmoriarty What the heck are you saying over there? Go wash your mouth out with soap this instant!
d_paul Transl: Corp. minded morons sound smart using big buzz words & metaphor:move ball forward thru connectivity building synergy,blah,blah
jmoriarty “Dear Playboy Letters, when Kate invited me over to talk about platform driven process lifecycles, I had no idea what she rmeant…”
-
i_ching Translation you requested: “Paying higher consultancy fees.”
- HiroBoga Is that a yellow hyperbolic growth I see sitting on your left shoulder?
A yellow hyperbolic growth. I love my Twitter-friends.

Item! I am obsessed.
You already listen to Sparkletack, right?
It’s the best and most addictive podcast ever. And I’m not just saying that because of my hardcore fascination with history, my weird relationship with San Francisco, or the fact that I’m madly in love with the voice of the guy the guy who researches, writes and produces it.
You have to listen to this week’s terrific episode. Reading the post doesn’t suck you into history in the same way.
If you appreciate a good story, properly told — and really, who doesn’t — it might even be the best eight and a half minutes of your day.

That’s it.
No more goofy for a week! Actually, there may be some on Friday. It’s too soon to tell.
I’m not making any promises, though …
Blogging therapy: What if someone READS what I wrote?
We’re at number nine in our weekly series that focuses on ways to make blogging (and other things) seem a little less intimidating.
(If you don’t blog and don’t plan to, you can use this “working-on-your-stucknesses” approach for whatever else that’s feeling a bit scary.)
The other posts in the series, just so you have them. No pressure!
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!
Whoah. Change of plans!
Yes, we were planning on talking today about “how to get in the zone”.
We’re going to postpone that for a while. Turns out I was way jumping the gun, as evidenced by all the email I’ve been getting listing all sorts of additional reasons for not even getting started.
So before “getting in the zone” even becomes an issue, I want to give some more attention to some of the things that are keeping us from being able to put something out there to the world.
Or whatever, not even necessarily to the world — maybe only to a few people. This particular fear is in direct opposition to what if I throw a party and no one shows up.
And this fear says that it could be dangerous for people to read what we write. That we need to stay hidden to stay safe.
Scary, right? And if this is your fear, this is what’s true for you right now. So we want to give that some love.
What we’re going to do is look at two different people who are dealing with this “Agh! Don’t look at me!” thing, and see what we might be able to do with it.
Two people. At least two different fears.
Issue #1: Fear of being found (anonymity and how to keep it).
This issue probably isn’t that surprising, especially given yesterday’s post about writing, healing and abuse.
A lot of us have stuff to say — stuff to put out there — and we know that reading it might help other people. But we may also have very good reasons for not wanting to be found out.
Like this person who wrote to me a couple of weeks ago:
“I am so terrified of losing my anonymity that I have to give myself a pep talk before I post. If I do post.
I’m a recovering addict who relapsed last year, and in the process of re-recovering I started dating another addict whose recovery is a little more unstable than my own. And only a couple people know I relapsed in the first place.
And other privacy issues that I won’t get into here. I don’t know if I’m supposed to get over my issues, or if I’m supposed to do extra stuff to secure my anonymity in blogland. If you have time, you can be the 2nd person on planet earth to see my blog, but please don’t share it.
Okay, I did read this person’s blog. And I thought it was terrific. Poignant and powerful.
I also think a lot of people might really identify with it or find it reassuring to know that they’re not alone. Or just appreciate the perspective.
At the same time, I get that you would be feeling vulnerable and anxious at the thought that someone could find this, and what the possible repercussions might be.
Obviously the technical stuff is not really my area.
I mean, yes, you could password protect your blog.
You can also make sure when you register your domain that you’ve paid extra to have a hidden or secure WHOIS set-up so that people can’t find out who you are.
More than that, I don’t really know what to do to secure anonymity. I’d ask someone like Nathan Bowers. Heck, even the Google Gods. They can tell you way more about this stuff than I ever could.
My thoughts …
The fact that you’re asking me though … that suggests to me that your question isn’t really a technical one at all, and that it’s probably more about the fear.
Not so much the fear of being discovered as the disconnect between the part of you that wants people to read this, and the part of you that is afraid of being judged or pushed away.
You want people to read it because it could be useful for them in so many ways. And because these other people are a reminder that you’re not alone in your pain.
It’s about connection. And intimacy. And fear.
It’s always about fear. Anonymity, specifically, is about the deep need that we all have to feel safe. Hiding is one of the ways we create that sense of safety.
Blogging about the process of learning about your fears and meeting your fears — even under complete anonymity — is a strong way to explore coming out of that hiding and creating something new.
I don’t mean to imply that hiding isn’t legitimate. There are times when hibernating and cocoon-ing away from the world is absolutely part of what you need to do to take care of yourself. It’s part of the healing process (insert your own less cheesy phrase here) and all that.
But hiding isn’t the only way.
I’d say more about that, but the next example kind of makes my point for me. This one is more about the fear but still kind of about the anonymity thing.
Issue #2: Fear of being seen (protection)
A woman named Rachael wrote this in the comments recently:
“… Fears: 1) that a current or future employer discovers my blog and it hurts my career and/or 2) some creep engages in cyberstalking or otherwise invades my privacy through the information I put in a blog because I was too vulnerable.
I’m not talking about someone who makes insensitive comments, but more than that. Now, as I write this, I see how silly it is to let these fears stop me. But I thought I’d bring up for the sake of discussion, nonetheless.”
Yes. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is something that every blogger deals with, at least at the beginning.
When I launched this website three years ago, I was scared of everything. Scared to put up a picture or a phone number on the site or a gazillion other things.
Also, I apologized profusely (and to anyone who would listen) for being a corporate whore and a pathetic sell-out who was disgusting enough to have a website. Oh, it was charming being around me.
So yes, this is normal.
My suggestions …
Go ahead and take whatever precautions you need to help yourself feel safe, and then — from within that safe place — you might feel better about experimenting a little. Just see how it feels.
See what it’s like to build a community of friends and people who care about you, and maybe your safety level will change. In fact, your perception of comfort may change, as you begin to recognize the support systems you’re building.
But whether one person or a thousand are reading your words, this is really all about you creating space for yourself. The blog is a way for you to build that container where this work happens.
So each post — whoever the audience — is an exercise.
You build a small, safe place for yourself to feel loved and supported, and then you work on gradually expanding the walls. That’s what all self-work is about anyway, when you get right down to it, right?
You’re applying gentle, conscious pressure to those walls to see what it will feel like if you move them a couple inches.
If it’s too much, you’ll retreat again. You’ll delete a post or two. You’ll regroup. You’ll check in.
And then you’ll try again.
But the question is not “How much can I push?”. Because we’re not trying to drag you out of your comfort zone or anything. Heaven forbid.
The question is this:
How can I get better at creating a safe, comfortable, supportive space for myself? How can I help myself feel safe while still making room for creative self-expression and stuff like that?
And as you practice this whole “hi, this is me being a real live human being” thing, you’ll get better at figuring out what helps you feel safe as opposed to what challenges that sense of safety.
One more point.
Something else that really helps with this whole “feeling safe and getting comfortable” thing: readers.
If you write like yourself you will inevitably attract people who get it.*
*And if you don’t attract people who get it, you’re not spending enough time on Twitter!
Look at Amy’s blog. Look at Steph’s blog.
The people who hang out there are, for the most part, reflecting back the personal style of the writers. These blogs are cozy, comfortable places to be.
Or this blog. It tends to speak to people who are sweet, thoughtful and insightful with some bonus eccentric goofball qualities. Oh, and more specifically, people like that who are interested in working on their stuff.
Also, they like to read. 🙂
So if you’re out there, actively practicing being yourself — and letting yourself feel safe and supported while doing so — you’re going to end up with some great people cheering you on.
As for potential employers … well, I’ll let Andy Wibbels’ short and elegant post entitled Bastard speak to that one.
Let’s stop here.
It really is about practicing. So go at your own speed. Take your time. Remember that blogging is really just therapy that you don’t have to pay for.
And find ways to make it a little playful.
If the only thing that comes out of this is that you decide you want to work on feeling safe and supported in various parts of your life, then yay. The blogging can wait.
If you’ve got non-blogging ways try to help yourself feel safe and supported so that you can work on your stuff, rock on. It’s not the method — it’s the patterns that are important.
Tomorrow: goofiness.
Next week: more blogging therapy.
Mwah!