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.
Wish 289: the treasure in disliking things
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
Ringing.
Right now my ears are ringing, which is not fun.
And I am practicing being a bell and reverberating, which is lovely.
I am ringing in these two different ways — and that has two meanings too!
The thing I am not doing while ringing is writing the weekly wishes for the blog.
Sometimes wish-writing is smoother, and sometimes choppier, and sometimes there is serious resistance. But it’s been a while since the last time I had so much aversion to sitting down and finding out what I want.
So instead of formulating a wish, I’m just going to look at elements, see what’s there.
Where is the ease. What will help me choose ease.
I am letting a lot of things go right now.
And somehow the more I let go, the more I want to let go.
And, also, the more I let go, the more I question everything in my life.
Easing and releasing. Easing into releasing. More ease with releasing. That’s one element of what I am wishing for.
Element. The treasure in disliking things.
Right now I am hating everything so hard that it kind of scares me.
Just a few of the many things I currently dislike:
- The drive-through coffee place near my house, and the way inattentive decaffeinated people make sharp turns in and out of the driveway without looking for pedestrians, which results in me nearly getting killed twice a day.
- The way my favorite dance instructor has become a fitness nut so now instead of focusing on dance subtleties, she’s all about “push yourself more”, something that holds zero interest for me.
- Why would someone whose house is a subdued shade of teal paint their porch bright kelly green? And why does the room where I write face this visual version of fingernails-on-chalkboard? I need a new place to write because this color combination gives me a headache, and while I’m hating things, I also hate being this sensitive to everything. Side note, I recommend the book Too Loud Too Bright Too Fast Too Tight: What To Do If You Are Sensory Defensive In An Overstimulating World .
- How did I end up with an office next door to a frame-making shop? Listening to people hammer all day is a horrible nightmare.
- We rent out the chocolate shop (metaphor) for weddings, and people are supposed to clean up after themselves, they have a checklist. Except instead they leave chocolate cupcake frosting (not a metaphor) on the carpeted stage, and generally trash the place, and my patience level has dropped to negative levels, in both meanings of that.
Where is the treasure in disliking everything?
This happened to me in Berlin, twice, and the treasure there was in exiting a situation that wasn’t good for me.
Element. Ganesh.
Ganesh is the god of removing obstacles, which is a pretty useful superpower.
Except, here’s the thing, sometimes you can’t figure out how it is that there are nothing but obstacles in your way, and in fact seemingly more obstacles than before you asked to have them removed.
Sometimes the obstacles are clues, and sometimes they are on your path to redirect you, get you on a new and better path. Sometimes both.
The point of the obstacles is to make you re-think where you’re currently headed. The path has to be super annoying for you to make the decision to start anew.
Thus the response to an absurd amount of unexpected obstacles is, Ahhhhh, thank you for the redirection!
Right now I suspect there is some serious redirecting going on.
Element. Trust. Or maybe a reconfiguring.
I got PTSD-triggered on Saturday, so I’ve spent most of the last three days in bed, in hiding-and-recovery mode.
There is a voice, probably a monster voice and it wonders, almost too innocently:
“Maybe running a business isn’t a good idea for someone who can get thrown so easily…”
Maybe that isn’t true. Maybe pieces of that are true. Maybe this is related to Shmita, and letting everything go shmita.
Element. Nature.
After I came back from my mother’s funeral, my lover and I took off in a camper with no real plan.
We spent six weeks on the road and off the road. We woke up in some of the most extraordinarily beautiful places I have ever seen.
Okay, once or twice we woke up in a parking lot, but most of the time we were out in just breathtakingly gorgeous surroundings. Desert. Mountains. Expansiveness.
Being back in an urban environment doesn’t feel good right now. And things that used to perk me up (walking in the rose garden) no longer do it for me.
So this is also a wish about being outside, and warm.
Element. Transitions.
After nearly five years of running my amazing center in Portland, I decided on Wednesday that I am letting it go and looking for a tenant. No one is more surprised by this decision than me.
Superpower of ease-filled transitions please.
What do I know about my wish?
I wish to have a peaceful heart in the midst of big changes.
I wish to choose towards things that support me (horizon), and away from things that don’t.
I wish to say thank you, to fill up on praise.
I wish to meet all the present pain, disliking, frustration and so on with acknowledgment, legitimacy and presence.
What do I know about this wish?
There is always treasure.
At Rally (Rally!), we used to skip a stone about this and ask, Where Is The Treasure.
Where is the treasure in this moment, in this experience, in this loss, in this question, in this project, in this life.
And every single time I was amazed by how much wisdom could be found if I only asked.
What do I really want?
And, as always, to trust my instincts more. To trust my yes and trust my no, and act on that trust immediately.
Me: Hey, slightly-wiser me, what do you have for me?
She: You are asking all the right questions, babe! The treasure is in disliking things. You’ve been in Portland for, what, seven years now? And you finally dislike things enough to go? It’s time for beautiful adventures. This is right.
Me: Thank you, that is reassuring. I don’t really like disliking things.
She: Keep following the joy-sparks. And keep paying attention to everything that is obviously not-joy. Those are clues too, thank them too.
Me: Is this why my [favorite thing here] has stopped being fun?
She: Maybe. Isn’t lovely to not feel sad about missing it?
Me: I had not thought of that.
Clues?
Speaking of obstacles, I will call Saturday’s explosion a clue. Thank you, clue.
The superpower of calm steady trust is mine.
The quality for January on the 2015 Fluent Self calendar is ANCHOR.
With the superpower is Calm Steady Trust Is Mine.
Calm steady trust will help me find the treasure in disliking things. And the anchor will help me voyage, it will help me locate my own steadiness as I figure out the new way.
GOOD NEWS!
Do you want your calendar? TODAY is your chance. Order it through the Plum Duff sale, which is almost over! Password: enter-with-roses
Ongoing wishes.
- Everything is easier than I thought, and look, miracles everywhere.
- I have the best time dancing in my ballroom.
- This doesn’t require my input!
- Ha, it’s so perfect that it turned out like this. Past me is a GENIUS
- I have what I need, and I appreciate it. There are resources to do this.
- Trust and steadiness. I can see why this moment is good.
- I am fearless and confident. I do the brave things, I state my preferences clearly, calmly and easily, and it is not even a big deal, yay.
- I am ready to come into my superpowers and receive gifts that are winging their way to me. Superpower of Everything Enhances My Superpowers!
Things I find helpful when it comes to wishes…
More sweet pauses, yes to the red lights and purple pills, say thank you to the broken pots. Costume changes. Stone skipping with incoming me. My body gets the deciding vote. And, as always, saying thank you in advance.
Give it to the compass: Eight directions, eight qualities, eight breaths.
Adventure. Rest. Horizons. Security. Passion. Sweetness. Clarity. Presence.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka Someone come up with a card for that please…
Last week I was thinking about the relationship between releasing and grief, and now I am wishing for ease with releasing, and for finding the treasure.
This week I was able to let much more go, and to come to the conclusion that it is time to find a tenant for my space. It’s been a big week, so I’m glad I primed things by thinking about the legitimacy of grief when letting go.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
We are running a giant sale where all the amazing new stuff is HALF OFF RIGHT NOW! Password: enter-with-roses
This ends tomorrow. Take a look! ♡
Keep me company?
Consider this an open invitation to deposit wishes, gwishes, personal ads. In any size/form you like, there’s no right way. Updates on past experiments are welcome too, as is anything sparked for you.
Commenting culture: This is safe space for creative exploration. We are on permanent vacation from care-taking and advice-giving. We are here to play and throw things in the pot! With amnesty. Leave a wish any time you want.
Here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: Oh, wow. What beautiful wishes.
xox
Chicken 338: it anagrams to what?
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday.}
What worked this week?
Taking it to the bath.
Even when that meant being late to a dance and missing a class. Better to arrive relaxed and grounded.
Other things that worked: ginger tea, hot water bottle, permission, legitimacy, patience, laughing, hiding.
Next time I might…
Allow more time.
It is well-documented that I overestimate my capacity and energy for doing, while underestimating how long things actually take.
I know this, so I halve my guess of the one, and double what I allow for the other.
Not good enough. I need more recovery time than I think. More doing time than I think.
This week seemed at times like watching a documentary on the theme of how I am terrible with estimating time.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- So completely overwhelmed. Also computer froze again right after I paid all that money to have it fixed. And the thing that seemed like the perfect escape is now turning into yet another complicated expensive mess. A breath for light at the end of tunnels, may it show itself soon. I mean, if that’s even a thing. I go back and forth between “yes, come on, there’s light at the end of the tunnel, just keep going” and “wait a minute haven’t you been saying that for your entire life?”. So how about a breath for spaciousness and ease.
- Letting go of everything and it is right, and it hurts. A breath for releasing.
- Now numbering among the things I am letting go of: the two best things in my life, my home and the Playground. A breath for knowing.
- My body is being very clear that I need to stop and let it really rest. A breath for trying to figure this out.
- Got triggered unexpectedly when I found out that what I thought was planned and what was actually planned were two different things. Not sure what part of my past it launched me into, but for sure I forgot that Now Is Not Then. I found myself feeling agitated, insecure, unsure of everything. A breath for presence, comfort, remembering truth.
- The beautiful boy was away on missions, and my housemate was away on missions, and it turns out that apparently I need A HUNDRED HUGS A DAY, because I am completely useless when no one is around to hug me. This is disconcerting. And also weird, because I don’t even really like being around people. So apparently I need designated trustworthy huggers? On call? I don’t know. Usually I like being alone except this week it was stupid and annoying and I found myself craving affection and reassurance and being comforted. A breath for comfort in all the best forms, may there be more of it and still more.
- Did not have fun at last Friday’s dance. Sometimes I think that I like dancing but not actually going to dances, which is a problem, because I am a dancer and that is where dancing actually happens. A breath for finding my right dance community, my right practice rituals, my confidence, whatever it is I need to find here.
- Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. Goodbye (and thank you), mysteries and hard moments of this week. May I choose to trust-more love-more release-more receive-more.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- I am letting everything go, and it is good, and it is time, and I can feel the joy sparks, because it turns out that the thing that sparks joy in me is FREEDOM. Freedom and writing. Without overhead. A breath for sweet releasing.
- Speaking of sweetness, a deepening of sweetness with the beautiful boy, more and more of it, filling up on tenderness, brimming with irrepressible joy. What wonderful madness is this? I don’t even know. A breath of appreciation for this very intense new feeling.
- I know what I want, what sparks joy, and knowing this is good. I spent a lot of time at the Playground this week, talking to it, asking what to do. And then on my way out, my eyes locked on a red velvet bag. I opened it and found a stone that said, “Go play!” Thank you, Playground. I love you so much. A breath for signs, and seeing them.
- The beautiful boy: “Good morning sweet thing, how do you feel about going to Puerto Rico?” Me: HOW DO I FEEL ABOUT THIS. WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT REALLY?!?! I feel over-the-top thrilled and full of joy sparks. Puerto Rico is one of my all-time favorite places. It anagrams to Erotic Pours. Are you kidding me? Can this really happen? How?!?! A breath for all timing is right timing, and joyful running away.
- Two big dance epiphanies that paid off in a big way. Went to Blues Eclectic on Saturday night and had the time of my life. And then had the most fun I’ve ever had at a west coast swing dance, even though my favorite people to dance with (the beautiful boy and my teacher) weren’t there. Mmmmm. So good. And somehow I managed to have good dances with everyone there, which never happens. Someone said: “That was incredible. Dancing with you is worth the price of admission.” And someone else said, “Okay, I had my amazing dance, I can go home now.” A breath for flow, connection, delight, magic, all the things I love about dance.
- I am ready to let go of things I was not ready to let go of before. A breath for deep quiet knowing.
- Getting all the work done. Light, tunnel, etc. Dispatched (or transformed!) a number of iguanas. An iguana is any task I don’t want to deal with, anything I’m dreading or avoiding or dread-avoiding. Cleaned out a closet and two thirds of a room. Dealt with some things I didn’t want to look at. A breath for trust. I can do this.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. Foxtrot. Rumba. Potato chowder. People who care about me. Everything is okay. Nothing is wrong. Now is not then. All Timing Is Right Timing. A full breath of deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
So much done! One more ebook edited and sent out, two more to go. Three boxes of clothing to Goodwill. A very complicated Playground op: taken care of! Thank you fractal flowers. More goodies soon, to those waiting patiently for Internalship ebooks, they’re being edited! And also: Wham Boom.
Revisiting some wise important words of truth from past-me.
Taking care of anything that is a tiny sweet thing. This was a good reminder for me.
Superpowers…
Powers I had this week…
I had the power of I Know How To Play. And the power of finding the right clues everywhere and seeing them instead of tripping over them. Also the power of people being unexpectedly supportive.
Superpowers I want.
I want the superpower of Oh That’s Hilarious.
And the superpower of Whoosh It Is Done.
The Salve of Oh That’s Hilarious.
You know how sometimes you go through something challenging (hahaha, understatement!) in life, and then later, years later, it is suddenly funny.
You can regale people with the story of it at a cocktail party, and everyone is practically crying from laughing so hard, and even though sure, yes, it’s kind of awful, it is also so very funny.
When I let this salve soften into my skin, I have that ability now. It’s a combination of humor and perspective.
Suddenly I can see how this is ridiculous, even if I don’t yet know all the things I’m currently hilariously tripping over.
This salve reminds my body to let go and to laugh.
It shows me how future me has already made peace with things current me thinks are possibly disastrous. She says, “Remember how we went on that accidental adventure and it was the worst? Hahahaha! Ohmygod we learned so much from that, and it’s the best story. And that’s also how this other amazing thing happened, so in the end? Totally worth it. Man, though, at the time I did not see how funny this was!”
This salve brings laughter, and it brings hope. It smells a little bit like the forest, and it is bubbly like champagne.
If salve does not appeal, you can have this in tea form, as a bath, cocktail, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is from Sam, they’re called Fueled By Monsters, their latest album is Vampiric Vapor Strokes. Catch them at the Fillmore next time you’re in San Francisco. And did you know that they’re actually just one guy? Yup. It’s true.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
GUESS WHAT! The Plum Duff sale is happening right now!
We have new things. We have beautiful, wonderful adventures.
And everything is HALF OFF, so go to the Plum Duff page! Password: enter-with-roses
Come play if you like…
Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us say hi, or maybe we’re feeling quiet. My ritual doesn’t have to be your ritual. Whatever works for you. We’ve been doing this every week for years now and there still isn’t a right way. Feel free to leave pebbles (or petals!), hearts, warmth, sweetness. Those always work.
Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We don’t give advice.
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever you like, it’s no big deal. And I am blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers. I love that you are here too.
Not this and not that.
I’ve been doing a fair amount of Emptying Out lately. Letting things go. Congruencing!
Last week I deleted fifteen blog posts from the drafts folder, because I realized I was never going to do anything with them.
But I kept one. I wrote this post in July, 2010. So, four and a half years ago.
And I think there’s still something to it. I took out a bunch of unnecessary apologizing (hey, at least I’ve learned something over the years), and edited it down a bit, but this is more or less what me-then wanted to say, and me-now thinks she was on to something.
So here you go, a glimpse into what I was thinking about then…
Options.
When we work with the video game technique, what emerges is that there are always options. More than we think we have.
Except we usually don’t see them.
That’s because we’re so used to the familiar ones. The options we usually choose. We see [DO THE USUAL THING!] or [DO THE THING WE DO WHEN WE RESIST THE USUAL THING!], and that’s it.
We don’t see all the doors in between.
Patterns.
So for example…
We think: Okay, we’re either going to grit our teeth and have the awkward horrible confrontation, or leave the situation and never look back. Or both.
We think we’ll probably put up with it until it drives us crazy, or cut all ties and be done. Or both.
We forget there are gaps and spaces, new and unexpected openings, always another way out.
We forget that there’s room.
The space where we have more choices:
There are endless turning points where we can consciously, actively decide to pick none of the above, and choose a new direction.
And specifically, opportunities to choose a middle way, a new way.
No more fight or flight — instead, something that’s not fight, and also not flight.
Not enduring, and also not running away.
Not ignoring, and also not reacting.
Not succumbing, and also not resisting.
Instead: opening to all the possibilities that lie in between those points, as well as all the possibilities beyond them.
Fun paradox!
So we are for the middle ground practice of “not this and not that”.
And we also want to practice exiting the middle, to get to the advanced practice, which is in many ways a return to being beginner. Confusing?
The middle ground we want here combines the qualities of the beginner’s mind (curious, receptive, compassionate), with the advanced practice (knowing we have the power to play with our patterns).
So to be in this beautiful space of middle — this middle ground of revealing previously undiscovered options and choices — requires a mindset that is not of the middle.
What past-me really wanted to say, in her words:
It is hugely important to remember that these spaces of in-between and possibility exist.
These new places are where we can discover wildly unlikely options that took us out of what we usually do, and into uncharted territory of creativity and hilarity and joy.
Consciously choosing not this and not that led to some seriously amazing things.
Why this is useful:
Every single time we interrupt or challenge a pattern, more options become available. They just appear.
And not just for right now. The next time you run into a wall, you’ll already have internalized both the process and the experience of choosing to do something different from what you usually do.
You’ve created space for trying new things, rewriting a patterns, or even just interrupting it for a second. It all counts.
And when one thing is possible, everything is possible.
Sometimes this is kind of terrifying to think about.
Not only is it just easier to go whooshing down the familiar neural pathways, there’s a certain weird comfort in charted territory even when you can’t stand the territory, the devil you know, etc.
We don’t necessarily even want to know about the other options. I mean, possibility can be liberating, and it can also be paralyzing and terrifying.
This is why I talk so much about the importance of safety and sanctuary when we work on our stuff.
Because there’s no point in making room, adding spaciousness and freedom (Very Interior Design!) without containment, without the perception safety.
There’s no point in discovering choices if we don’t feel safe, if we don’t trust our ability to react to those choices.
So … we make space for possibility. But we also carve out safe spaces to curl up and hide in.
Which is also an option that we might not have even known existed, without remembering the principle of not this and not that.
Play with me.
This is a very thinky concept, so I want to just name some of the qualities of Not This And Not That, to get more into the feeling of it:
Trust. Presence. Ease. Play. Sovereignty. Opening. Glowing. Energy.
You are welcome to bring situations from your life (maybe in proxy form!) and brainstorm reactions or next steps that fall into the category of Not This And Not That.
You are welcome to leave hearts, pebbles, smiles, hugs, superpowers.
You are welcome to share anything that was sparked for you.
The only guideline here is that we don’t give each other advice, or analyze each other or go into caretaking mode. Instead we make room for everyone to have their own experience. We all have our stuff, we’re all working on our stuff, it’s a process. We meet ourselves and each other with as much warmth, permission, love, and spaciousness as we can manage.
Hope this was useful, and I’m glad I was able to share something from four and a half years ago. ♡
Wish 288: someone come up with a card for that please
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
I am thinking about releasing and I am thinking about grief.
They go together sometimes.
I am deep in the process of releasing right now, and this is just the beginning.
I am drinking ginger tea and releasing. Rinsing out the mug in the sink and releasing. Curling up with a blanket and a hot water bottle. Releasing.
Here are some of the things I’m releasing:
Clothes, books, ideas, expectations, stories I tell myself, my sense of how long things “should” take, things that are traps, tears.
There is a lot of grief in this releasing.
What do we know about grief?
- Grief is always legitimate.
- I don’t need to know why I’m grieving it now, or even to know what exactly I’m grieving.
- Grieving is about identity. Change means letting things go, and even the most joyful letting go is still a goodbye to some aspect of who you were.
- Our culture does not have mechanisms for really interacting with grief.
- Our culture does not have rituals or containers for acknowledging the very real pain of loss. I’m not just talking about death, the big loss. Also loss of job, dream, relationship, friendship.
- And when there is acknowledgment, it’s someone trying to cheer you up and get you past it, instead of sitting with you and letting you feel what you’re feeling.
- Grief is natural and normal, and it hurts.
- Our lives are filled with busy-ness and streams of incoming information and input. Sometimes it seems like there isn’t even a moment to notice that we are avoiding the grief, never mind to say hello to it and offer it a chair.
What do I know about this.
Sometimes even when the releasing is the best possible releasing, there is pain.
When my beloved mentor broke up with me, I was in shock. It was very sudden, unexpected, public, painful.
Even from inside the deep fog of confusion, inside the slow ache of realizing that there was no way to repair the broken trust between us, I knew that one day I would say thank you for this.
I knew there was treasure in this goodbye, in this releasing, even if I couldn’t see it yet.
It’s been a couple years now, and it doesn’t hurt anywhere near the way it did. The agonizing pain of that day is a simple memory of what was, no longer charged with feeling.
I’ve come to realize that this ending was needed, this releasing was necessary. And since I never would have let go of that connection of my own accord, I needed to be helped out of it.
And: grief is legitimate.
There is no hallmark card for most of the painful things in life.
At least not that I know of.
I definitely didn’t get any cards, and now I kind of want some:
“Hey sorry the person you thought was your biggest supporter turned out to be the opposite of supportive! That sucks! You are AMAZING!”
“Whoa the thing you spent the last ten years working on is not in your life anymore, that has to hurt. I wish I had more than hugs, but here are some hugs! Your dream was special and so are you!”
“Hey, that is so hard that your giant project didn’t work out and you lost everything, just wanted to say that I love you and adore you, and I know you’ll be okay. P.S. You are a great adventuress!”
People tend not to mention the painful things.
They tiptoe around them.
Or they are confused about why you feel sad. Which is weird. Really? Why am I crying right now? I don’t know. Could be anything really. Look at all the things I have lost in the past few years. Look at all the broken pieces.
I’m glad for the releasing, for all the treasure of releasing, and sometimes it still hurts, and the thing that needs to be released is bucketloads of tears.
Or what needs to be released is the idea that I need to be over this.
What is my wish?
To find the joy in releasing. To be peaceful with the presence of grief.
To say thank you with a full heart to everything that is and everything that was.
To give myself endless permission to feel as sad as I happen to feel, for as long as I need to feel it.
To remember that everyone I encounter has also experienced deep losses, that we are all going through this all the time, the loss and the non-acknowledgment.
To do my own acknowledging.
What do I know about this wish?
This afternoon I was at my center, The Playground.
I’ve had this space for nearly five years, can you believe it. And now I am in the process of maybe-probably letting it go. Releasing. And it hurts.
It is right, and it hurts.
I descended to the floor as I have done so many times (thousands!) and closed my eyes and waited. For about ten minutes my thoughts went every which way, and I let them. And then, slowly, my breath became steadier. My thoughts quieted.
And then I heard a sentence, very clearly:
It is safe to love.
It is safe to love.
What I love about this piece of wisdom, from inside me or from the Playground, is how it gets to the heart of grief.
When I’m in the grief, I am also in the fear of future loss, potential loss, what if I feel like this again, what if I lose again.
The reminder here is that nothing is wrong. I made choices from love. I took risks from love, for love. I tried things because of love. And there is more love. It is safe to love. Even if I lost things, people, money, friendships.
I built the Playground from love, with love. It emerged from love, it exists in love. I can let it go with love, from love. I can trust and love again. Love more, trust more.
Everything ends, everything dies, everything reconfigures, and still it is safe to love.
I can’t lose love, because love is inside of me and around me.
Love is not what has been lost. Love is still here.
What do I really want?
To choose from love. To trust love.
To take exquisite care of myself.
To let go of everything that is done, knowing that this is perfect: thank you for being done.
And I want ease-filled solutions, elegant solutions, clear pathways, signs and clues. I want to see with joy-eyes, to feel with my joy-heart.
To say thank you and release, and know that the releasing is treasure.
And, as always, to trust my instincts more. To trust my yes and trust my no, and act on that trust immediately.
Me: Hey, slightly-wiser me, what do you have for me?
She: I know you think this isn’t a super fun wish. It’s an important one. It’s going to help you carry your joy with you.
Me: I bring my own joy party! And sometimes my own grief party, apparently.
She: Remember when you worked in the orchards? How happy the trees were when they were pruned back? That was some joyful releasing.
Me: It’s true, they loved it. I liked giving them that attention, that sweetness. That was the best job I’ve ever had.
She: You know why you don’t think about the trees anymore.
Me: Because of [loss] and [other loss].
She: Yup, and yet remembering your relationship with the trees is important. It will take you back to the joy of climbing, the joy of pruning, the communing in quiet, trusting that it is okay to love. Just because the trees are gone now doesn’t mean their love for you is gone.
Clues?
Love the horizons.
The superpower of calm steady trust is mine.
The quality for January on the 2015 Fluent Self calendar is ANCHOR.
With the superpower is Calm Steady Trust Is Mine.
Calm steady trust is exactly what I need for all this releasing. And actually an anchor is useful too. An anchor doesn’t hold things completely still, it allows them to drift slightly with the water.
That is important.
GOOD NEWS!
Do you want your calendar? You can still order one through the Plum Duff sale, assuming supplies last! Password: enter-with-roses
Ongoing wishes.
- Everything is easier than I thought, and look, miracles everywhere.
- I have the best time dancing in my ballroom.
- This doesn’t require my input!
- Ha, it’s so perfect that it turned out like this. Past me is a GENIUS
- I have what I need, and I appreciate it. There are resources to do this.
- Trust and steadiness. I can see why this moment is good.
- I am fearless and confident. I do the brave things, I state my preferences clearly, calmly and easily, and it is not even a big deal, yay.
- I am ready to come into my superpowers, including the superpowers of knowing that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, I Am Okay With Being Seen, receiving gifts that are winging their way to me. See also: The superpower of Everything Enhances My Superpowers. And adds panache.
Things I find helpful when it comes to wishes…
More sweet pauses, yes to the red lights, remember the purple pills, say thank you to the broken pots. Permission. Bright colors. Passion. Costume changes. Stone skipping with incoming me. Dance. Intensity. Writing. Lipstick. My body gets the deciding vote. And, as always, saying thank you in advance.
Give it to the compass: Eight directions, eight qualities, eight breaths.
Trust. Release. Love. Receive. Anchor. Crown. Glow. Boldly.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka Let’s pretend this is about soup…
I’ve been doing pretty well with following my desires, and not hiding intel from myself.
On Wednesday I left a dance that wasn’t fun. On Saturday I was brave and tried something new even though it scared me because I heard the yes.
And I’ve been noticing when I act on intel about what I want, and when I try to hide this intel from myself or from people in my life.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
We are running a giant sale where all the amazing new stuff is HALF OFF RIGHT NOW! Password: enter-with-roses
This was supposed to end tomorrow, except [life stuff] happened and I never got around to emailing the list and telling people about it, which is the nice thing to do. So we’re actually going to extend this. Reprieve!
Good for this next week, assuming supplies last!
♡
Keep me company?
Consider this an open invitation to deposit wishes, gwishes, personal ads. In any size/form you like, there’s no right way. Updates on past experiments are welcome too, as is anything sparked for you.
Commenting culture: This is safe space for creative exploration. We are on permanent vacation from care-taking and advice-giving. We are here to play and throw things in the pot! With amnesty. Leave a wish any time you want.
Here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: Oh, wow. What beautiful wishes.
xox
Chicken 337: I nearly punched someone, and that is okay because I am a great adventuress
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday.}
What worked this week?
Legitimacy.
The thing that I am currently feeling, it makes sense.
And there are lots of reasons why I might be feeling that way, and all of them are legitimate. And I also might have forgotten or overlooked very legitimate reasons, and that is legitimate too.
I am allowed to feel this feeling. I am allowed to not like feeling this feeling. I am allowed to not like that I do not like feeling this feeling.
Legitimacy is the one thing I know that genuinely shifts perspective. Actually, it shifts a lot more than perspective.
Anyway, I was able to remember this, and it worked for me.
Going to bed.
Sometimes, often, for me, that is just the thing.
And a lot of times I forget that this is even an option. Occasionally I even forget at night.
Next time I might…
Maybe not make that face?
I was in a dance class, and the teacher demonstrated something with the help of a student. The student misinterpreted a move and made THAT EXACT FACE THAT I ALWAYS MAKE WHEN I SCREW UP.
It’s a mix of apologetic chagrin and “please don’t hate me”, and it’s not particularly attractive, and it doesn’t feel fun, but more than that, I finally understood something about glowing boldly, which has been my big wish these past months.
Makings this face is the opposite of committing to glowing boldly, and suddenly I was able to see just how much I no longer wish to make that face.
It’s not that I wish to not screw up. It’s dance. Dance is improvised play with a thousand rules to remember and another thousand to joyfully break. Dance is alive and always changing. I’m going to fall on my face sometimes.
What I want is to find out what it would be like to respond with a smile. Or with steadiness. Or a steady smile. I am ready to be done with making that face.
For now I am just going to experiment with noticing when I make that face, and thinking something reassuring to myself. You’re doing great, honey. You are trusting and trying.
And maybe I can try a new face. Just an in-between one to break things up for a while. Or I can think MAKE A FACE and laugh.
Anything I can do to interrupt the pattern counts.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Oh sometimes I think I am not made for having an internet job. I can’t handle the energy of it, it is so completely overwhelming. Except then I remember that I am not able to function in a regular person job. A breath for being a highly highly sensitive person.
- Got very overwhelmed by projects. Also overwhelmed by the prospect of figuring out how to take care of house things and overhead for the Playground and the chocolate shop while I am divesting myself of projects for this upcoming year of Shmita and releasing. And oh, sometimes letting things go is so very hard. A breath for presence, trust, and being present with trust.
- I said this last week: I’m ready to leave Portland. I want to be somewhere quiet, peaceful, breathtakingly beautiful. A breath for allowing myself to want what I want, even if this isn’t something I can address quite yet.
- My wonderful uncle Svevo was visiting for the weekend, and one of my big life wishes is more time with Svevo, except I had deadlines and aforementioned projects, and so I chose work over play, for what felt like the thousandth billionth time that this has happened. A breath for making peace with my choices.
- Augh, working out after new years is the worst. The studio is packed full of people, and everyone is being super territorial about space. I found myself wanting to actually punch someone. And then I checked the app that tells me where I’m at in my cycle, and I was NOT anywhere near the nine day period when wanting to punch people is a thing. A breath for hey, babe, you are okay, and for being in [secret undisclosed location] next January in a place where this won’t be an issue.
- Hahahahaha we are back to getting a hundred emails a day. I’ve been on email sabbatical for SIX YEARS, and in general that has worked really well. I mean, I still don’t see these emails. But I know they exist. A breath for this too shall pass, and for better systems in place.
- Various things not working, or maybe just the perception that things don’t work. The printer. Going to a dance and not enjoying myself. Trying to figure things out. A breath for recognizing all the clues that come with discomfort.
- Inhale, exhale. May all misunderstandings and distortions, internal and external, dissolve in love if not in laughter. Goodbye (and thank you), mysteries and hard moments of this week. May I choose to trust-more love-more release-more receive-more
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- I went to a foxtrot class! Twice! So good to be dancing again. Oh how I have missed dance and learning, both of these. A breath for remembering.
- I have been spending very little time in online spaces I used to frequent, using Marie Kondo’s question “does this bring me joy?”, and exiting when the answer is no. Or not entering to begin with. Much excitement about creating new neural pathways. A breath of relief and thank-you.
- Plum Duff! We did a ton of work, and made our once-in-a-while New Stuff And A Sale thing happen. Monsters say we were three months behind, and yet how can that be because it happened this week, which means that was the right time. A breath for all timing is right timing.
- Joy and Sweetness: again, still, more. Napping happily in my lover’s arms. Feeling peaceful and steady. A breath for a full heart, and for closeness, in many forms.
- I have a computer again! And the hard work is paying off. I finished FOUR ebooks, TWO Havi-Announces-A-Thing pages, five blog posts! I cleared out half my closet and also the problem room. A breath for being in the zone.
- I was brave this week and did many brave things and now I get a hundred billion sparklepoints. A breath for trying.
- I was feeling kind of low, and Max said, “Havi, you are a great adventuress! You are! If this were the 19th century, everyone would be reading your biography!”. I cannot even tell you how much this cheered me. I need someone to tell me this a thousand times a day. A breath for trusting this. I am a great adventuress. I can do this.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. Dancing. Figs. People who care about me. Everything is okay. Nothing is wrong. Now is not then. All Timing Is Right Timing. A full breath of deep appreciation in my thank-you heart.
WHAM BOOM! Operations completed.
Oh wow, everything got done this week, again. All the HATs were finished. I finished editing all twenty six thousand words of the Terpsichore Springs book which went out to its dear readers. Plum Duff went live. Feeling excited. Thank you fractal flowers. More goodies soon, to those waiting patiently for Internalship ebooks, there are three of those being edited! And also: Wham Boom.
Revisiting some wise important words of truth from past-me.
Of course: Sovereignty casserole. It even has a story about flowers.
Superpowers…
Powers I had this week…
I had the power of It Is Safe To Let This Go. And the power of telling someone at dance that he was hurting me on the double turn.
Superpowers I want.
I want again the superpower of the superpower of Things Resolve Themselves In Unexpected And Sometimes Elegant Ways.
And the superpower of Let Go And Do Less.
The Salve of Let Go And Do Less.
I realized this week that if ideas were visible, I’d probably be on one of those shock-value television reality shows about hoarders.
One of my intentions for this new year is “NO MORE PROJECTS!” — picture a picket sign! — and so of course I am being offered wonderful-sounding projects right and left.
When I remember the salve of Let Go And Do Less, I remember to love more trust more. I stop thinking that I am the one in charge, and that if I just finish all the things on my list, somehow everything will be okay.
The salve softens me, it softens everything in me and suddenly I remember that the world is not going to fall apart. If anything, I am going to fall apart if I keep pushing, so I might as well breathe and trust, and focus on doing things that help me do more of that.
The salve of Let Go And Do Less has a subtle sparkly sheen to it. It secretly restores your crown and polishes your jewels. It makes room for perfect simple solutions that you couldn’t see while you were running around trying to make things happen. This salve goes well with tea, and suddenly I remember that there is time for that too…
If salve does not appeal, you can have this in tea form, as a bath, cocktail, whatever works for you. Not only is there enough salve, there are also enough ways to receive it.
Playing live at the meme beach house — the Fake Band of the Week!
This week’s band is called A Brumby For A Friend, and I have no idea why. I found it on an orange post-it note in my kitchen, definitely my handwriting. They’re loud and raucous, and clearly Australian. Their latest album is called Clown Water, and it turns out this band is actually just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
GUESS WHAT! The Plum Duff sale is happening right now!
We have new things. We have beautiful, wonderful adventures.
And everything is HALF OFF, so go to the Plum Duff page! Password: enter-with-roses
Come play if you like…
Join me in the comments. Some of us share hard and good, some of us say hi, or maybe we’re feeling quiet. My ritual doesn’t have to be your ritual. Whatever works for you. We’ve been doing this every week for years now and there still isn’t a right way. Feel free to leave pebbles (or petals!), hearts, warmth, sweetness. Those always work.
Everyone belongs. We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. We don’t give advice.
Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.
p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever you like, it’s no big deal. And I am blowing kisses to the Beloved Lurkers. I love that you are here too.