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.
Chicken 335: I am the Ether Bunny!
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday.}
What worked this week?
Wearing my crown.
I wrote a note to myself before going out to a waltz event, and it said sweetie wear your crown.
At the beginning of each song, I adjusted my crown in my mind. The purpose of this was to help me remember to make space for myself, to not agree to discomfort in order to be polite.
But it also helped me remember to keep my head up and look straight ahead, so I ended up dancing better.
And then, on the way to the dentist, I had a little panic about needing my crown there (still talking about the sovereignty crown, not the tooth crown, though okay, that too), and guess what happened?
I passed a jewelry store I’d never noticed before. It’s called Malka. Which means queen in Hebrew. And suddenly, just like that, my crown was back. How’s that?
Next time I might…
Ask for company.
This week involved lots of things that scare me, and I was trying really hard to not show it.
Even though, yes, okay, I cried in my lover’s arms for twenty minutes about having to go get a physical.
Anyway, sometimes I try to just get through things myself. But having company is lovely. And really, asking for companionship is not as embarrassing as all my monsters think it is.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Seriously the amount of crap I had to deal with this week. Painful dental work times two. The aforementioned physical. Things that are not fun and take time and cost money and require logisticking. A breath for getting through.
- Massive dread re all of the above. A breath for presence, and for grace.
- Underestimated (or really, did not account for at all) how much I’d be in shock, coming back to the city after 43 days on the road, mostly in quiet, beautiful places. The city is grimy and ugly and even though I’d already known it had long lost the spark for me, I don’t even know why I came back. A breath for this.
- Speaking of adjustments, I’d expected it would feel lovely and spacious to have time to myself again, but in reality not seeing the boy for five days was kind of awful. And now we are on round two of five days without the boy. A breath for missing.
- Good lord I have a lot of work to do right now. A breath for freedom, and for trust.
- In the category of “be careful what you wish for”, I came back from my six weeks of Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic with SO MUCH CLARITY it hurts. I am super ridiculously clear on things, I’m not even sure anyone should be so clear on things. And there have been some seriously uncomfortable moments of seeing the writing on the wall about future challenges. A breath for releasing and for trusting.
- Computer has been frozen for a week, so far none of the fixes have worked. Is this a red sweater thing? It had better be, because right now this is incredibly frustrating. A breath for trust-more love-more release-more receive-more.
- 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.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- Total hannuka miracles, almost of the old-school variety. First the boy and I ran out of gas (which is basically oil), and then rolled on fumes into a town that might or might not have what we needed. It worked but only barely. Then on the seventh day we realized we were out of hannuka candles, and Richard found an entire box hidden in a cabinet. Taking both of these as reminders that Nothing Is Wrong. Oh, and a christmas miracle too when the beautiful boy surprised me by showing up at my secret hideout. A breath for remembering that marvelous surprises, perfect simple solutions, happy endings can just show up.
- A marvelous gift in the form of a new hot water bottle, it is the coziest thing imaginable and somehow even better than the one I brought back from Berlin. A breath for Gemuetlichkeit.
- I turned That Day That Is Always A Horrible Day into a great day, because I am a genius. A breath for sudden realizations.
- The physical I was so dreading ended up being the easiest visit to a doctor that I’ve ever had in my entire life. And I politely refused to get weighed, and it wasn’t even a big deal. A breath for rewriting old experiences.
- A plan is coming together! Both for this coming Shmita year, and for how I want to work after that, and where I might want to be while this is happening. A breath for welcoming adventure.
- Had first ever miscommunication with the boy, and we sorted it out so quickly and with so much love and steadiness. Thank you, all the communication skills I have worked towards acquiring. Thank you, someone who can be present with this. A breath for being able to see how beautiful this is.
- Monday night. A breath for warmth and sweetness.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. Writing time with Marisa. Bouncing time to music. A mini-epiphany about dance. Tiny miracles everywhere. 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 writing done this week! I am kind of in shock. It is all coming together, thanks to the fractal flowers. Goodies soon, to those waiting patiently for ebooks, and announcements soon, for those who can’t wait to find out what’s happening for Plum Duff. Are you on the list? Wham Boom.
Revisiting some wise important words of truth from past-me.
I posted this last week and I’m posting it again, because I feel so strongly about this: These are my tools.
This is an important reminder for me right now, what with the non-functional computer, and all the contortionist maneuvers I’ve been engaging in to not replace it. Guess what, babe. You’re a writer, and you need tools.
Superpowers…
Powers I had this week…
I had the superpower of This Is So Much Easier Than I Expected, which is a fabulous superpower.
Superpowers I want.
I want the superpower of I Do Not Have To Explain Myself, I Just Do It.
The Salve of This Is So Much Easier Than I Expected.
This salve is an especially magical one, and it goes on so easily, it just sort of glides.
This salve dissolves any internal rules I might have about the way things are, and why everything is horrible.
When I wear this salve, I am able to ask for what I need. I exchange secret smiles with people around me, I see clues everywhere.
The things I need are there for me. I smile and whisper thank you in my heart.
This salve reminds me that I am cared for, I am held, it is okay to ask, it is okay to want.
It smells of mountain air and I laugh happily whenever I wear it.
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 comes from Kathleen, and they’re called I Am The Ether Bunny, this is based on me speaking into the ether about having sneakily posted while no one was online, and it is such a good name. Like, I think this is a job I could actually do. Anyway, this is my new favorite band, and actually it’s just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I am still recommending the Emergency Get Calm, Quiet And Steady techniques, since they are keeping things good around here for me.
So I want to seed a reminder that this is a thing, and it helps, a lot. Not just with calming down in the moment but with building the kind of habits that allow you to change your relationship with whatever is scary or uncomfortable.
I hardly ever recommend these because the page is already many years old and needs rewriting. However, copywriting aside, this is still one of the best things I have ever made, by a lot. I have two boxes in my office full of the sweetest thank you notes from people, and so many of them are for this.
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.
Care for some extra superpowers today?
It’s christmas, which can be hard for some.
For most, I suspect. Definitely for me.
Though even if today is a perfectly fine regular sort of day for you, or even an excellent day (and I wish that for you), it never hurts to have some extra superpowers.
So feel free to help yourself to as much as you need of any of the following…
Let’s see. How about some of these?
The superpowers of…
- The power of I Don’t Have To Answer This Question.
- The power of gracious deflection with a smile.
- The power of calm, steady knowing that everything is okay.
- The power of Whatever Works: permission to do that.
- The power of I take care of myself first.
- The power of I’m a grown-ass adult and it is okay for me to to step outside for a breath of fresh air.
- The power of wearing my crown.
- The power of remembering that I am the equal of everyone I encounter.
- The power of finding clues everywhere.
- The power of delighting in small things.
- The power of all my other superpowers are extra charged up right now.
- The power of sparkling lights.
- The power of saying what I need and not afraid to advocate for myself.
- The power of letting shit go.
- The power of pausing to take eight breaths.
- The power of seeing what is true.
- The power of knowing that we — we here in this tiny sweet corner of the internet — have each other, and are glowing warmth for each other. Maybe you didn’t know this yet, but it’s true.
How does this work?
I’m not sure.
I know that whenever I’ve run an event, we always invoke all the superpowers we’d like to have, and somehow, this is the weird part, something about naming them brings them to life.
Something about knowing these exist as options makes them options.
They’re in the world now because they have been named. And there is more than enough for everyone. So take whichever ones you like, and fill up on them.
Breathe them in.
Would you like to play?
You are welcome to expand on any of these, or invent more superpowers.
To add them to the pot, so to speak.
The only thing we don’t do here is give each other advice. Other than that, there’s no right way to play. Each of us is just trying things.
May this day reveal sweetness for you. I hope the just-right superpowers come your way, and any iguanas who want to become unicorns get their wishes too.
♡
Wish 285: The surprisingly easy metamorphosis of iguanas into unicorns
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
The surprisingly easy metamorphosis of iguanas into unicorns.
What do I know about this wish?
It has to do with change. Specifically change that I think will prove to be difficult but actually doesn’t have to be difficult at all.
What is an iguana?
An iguana is any task I don’t want to deal with, anything I’m dreading or avoiding or dread-avoiding.
Iguanas don’t feel like missions or ops or adventures. They’re more like chores. They hide in piles but I still know they’re there, so that’s why I don’t look at the pile or open the box.
Just thinking about them makes me want to crawl into bed and hide.
What is a unicorn?
Light, agile, responsive, playful, magic, alive, full of presence and trust, sparkly.
I want to spend time with a unicorn. Unicorns bring out the sweetness in everything. They expand my capacity for wonder.
When I’m waiting at the bus stop in the pouring rain, hating everything, and suddenly I remember to breathe a thank you for the green trees, a thank you for the yield sign that reminds me to let go, a thank you for the church across the street whose sign holds a clue for me…
That pause of exhaling, remembering that I get to be differently in this moment, if I want to…
That, for me, is the feeling of being in unicorn energy.
Since when do iguanas turn into unicorns?
It’s a recent discovery. Very recent. Maybe five minutes ago.
Sparkly Uniguanicorns! They’re in that awkward transition phase right now, but it’s happening. Metamorphosis. Transformation. Transition.
So when we say, “Goodnight, iguanas!”, we’re really saying, “See you when you’re a unicorn!”
I am choosing to believe that this is a thing.
Current iguanas in my life.
- x-mess blues aka what if christmas is as awful as it was last year?
- scary dental thing
- dental thing #2 and how do I get home
- ugh going in for a physical, and scared about [things], this is also related to what my father calls jewish ptsd: the P stands for pre.
- Stu and friends, and I have put off this project for so long that I can’t even remember why I liked it but I made a promise and it’s time to commit.
Okay and now I stop naming iguanas because I am getting overwhelmed and can’t think about any more for now or I will cry.
But wait, what unicorns are they are going to turn into?
Ah, of course. Their unicorn names won’t scare me at all!
Let’s see. We have…
- Gemütlichkeit Extreme To The Power of Ten, aka The Coziest Cozy Retreat Of Coziness, with Bell West, Adventuress at Large!
- Look At My Radiant Smile: I Glow So Hard
- My Radiant Smile: EVEN MORE RADIANT, good lord I have a great smile
- Operation Lacy Hips for the Lacy Ship: wearing the glowing crown
- My Love For Language Goes Down To The Letter
Great. So now let’s look at the metamorphosis.
What are the elements of metamorphosis?
ENTRY. PRESENCE. PLAY. PERMISSION. ANCHORED. SOVEREIGNTY. GLOW. COURAGE.
Being conscious about preparing for the voyage. Bringing all of me to the experience. Letting it be playfuland creative. So much legitimacy for the fact that these things are challenging and scary. What will help me be grounded? How can I approach this standing in my strength, wearing my crown? How can I be there in full radiance, making sure I’m engaged and not checking out. And can I be a bold fearless adventurer?!
This is what I want to try.
What will help me with the iguana-to-unicorn transition process?
Remembering that these iguanas want to transition. They want to be free. They don’t want to scare me. They want us to have fun.
Renaming things helps. A lot.
Same with conscious entry, setting clear intentions, getting intel about what I desire.
Doing the alignment caper.
Oh, and maybe an OOD!
What else do I know about this?
It is okay that these things are scary, that they’re stressing me out.
And it is also true that they can transform.
There are so many things that used to be super charged with doom for me, and now they’re fine. There is no reason we can’t find a way to make these work. And the worst case scenario is, they won’t be enjoyable but at least I will be really conscious about what is and isn’t working, which is already changing the pattern of I’m Stuck In This Horrible Situation That I Hate And Resent.
What do I know about my wish?
It has to do with trust and play.
Trusting the play, playing with trust.
And it has to do with sovereignty: this is the kingdom of my life and I can glow more grace by approaching things with curiosity and presence.
And it has to do with clarity and illumination.
What’s next.
I’m going to come up with a list of things I can play with for each op.
For example, with Operation Lacy Hips (anagram for physical), I could bring a note saying I’m a Conscientious Objector, since that sounds better than saying that I’m part of the Resistance.
I can have a friend come with me.
I can write a list of ten things the doctor and I have in common, to help me remember that we are equals who ultimately have similar goals, even if we see the world through very different lenses.
I can make a list of things that are important for me to let her know. And a list of things I can feel free to ignore, should she say them, since she does not live in my body and does not know it as well as I do.
I can write a description of my ideal visit, as if it already happened, and feel how that might feel, instead of imagining and feeling all the ways this could be scary, stressful or infuriating.
I can ask Wisest Me to come to the front of the V, so that all the versions of me who have had negative experiences with doctors can go take a nap in a safe room.
What do I really want?
To release the pattern of agonizing, dreading, hating and resisting.
To allow for things to be different than how I think they have to be.
To bring all of myself and my playful heart to this, so that I can treat it as a grand adventure, a wild experiment in what-if.
To remember that much more complicated things have transformed themselves and become magical and sparkly, there is no reason these can’t too.
To give so much legitimacy to the dread and the avoidance. I don’t have to know why these things feel uncomfortable to give myself comfort.
And, as I seem to wish every week: To trust my instincts more. To trust my yes and trust my no, and act on that trust immediately.
Now.
I am sitting in the Playground, my center in Portland, which is also currently in a state of metamorphosis, transitioning into something new.
It feels disorienting being back in Portland.
Downstairs at the chocolate shop, there’s a giant holiday craft fair and they’re playing christmas music, which reminds me that for next year I would like to be as far away from this country as possible.
It is good to know what I want.
Me: Hey, slightly-wiser me, what do you have for me?
She: The key to letting things be surprisingly easy is believing that they can be.
Me: Can you say more about that.
She: Imagine you have the superpower of “this is surprisingly easy”, how does it feel?
Me: Hilarious.
She: Perfect. Keep laughing. Do things that make you laugh, that bring you back to the bubbly goofiness of all of it. Imagine that you are drinking tea called This Is Hilarious.
Clues?
Driving through Idaho, I was feeling frustrated about my lack of clarity related to something and just then we passed a Beacon Light road.
The superpower of bringing light to the corners.
Can I tell you something funny?
We’re in the month of Illumination, with the superpower of bringing light to the corners. And last month was Sovereignty, with the superpower of I do not wait in line for my own swing.
Since coming back from my 43 days of Operation Tranquility Recovery, I have been having the most wild epiphanies and crystal clear clarity about everything that is unsovereign in my life. For example, all the problems we have with the chocolate shop are not business problems but sovereignty challenges.
They aren’t things that need to be addressed with system changes, they need to be addressed by standing in sovereignty, asking for what we want and need, not trying to people-please. Anyway, I am right at the intersection of illumination and sovereignty, just like in the calendar, and everything not sovereign is being illuminated, which is incredibly frustrating and also very useful.
The 2015 calendars — the Year of More — have been ordered and will be for sale very very soon!
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!
- My body gets the deciding vote.
- 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, receiving gifts that are winging their way to me, I Am Okay With Being Seen, Everything Enhances My Superpowers.
Taking care of these seeds.
The intentions have been planted, the sails are set. Whatever intel, fruits or flowers emerge will be just right, whatever they are. Thank you in advance.
Now to nap on it, dance it, write it, play with it, take notes, skip stones, walk the labyrinth. Deep breaths, purple pills, getting quieter and quieter until I hear what is true. And a good costume change never hurts. Also eight breaths in eight directions:
Trust. Release. Love. Receive. Anchor. Crown. Glow. Boldly.
Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.
So. Last week, aka like a red sweater for example…
This was the best wish ever. While I didn’t get [red sweaters] to replace the things that weren’t working, just being aware that they exist was so helpful.
For example, my laptop stopped working this week and instead of thinking this was the end of the world, I thought, I wonder what wonderful thing is going to come from this breaking.
So that’s new. And kind of amazing.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I wish to whisper a whisper about the Monster Manual! It comes paired with the world’s best coloring book, which does so much monster-dissolving magic that even if you wait to try the techniques, you’ll still feel better about everything.
Self-fluency is hard enough, we need ways to to interact with the thoughts-fear-worry-criticism that shuts down creative exploring. And when people get the manual, I am able to me spend more time writing here. So if you don’t need help with monsters, get one for a friend. Or plant a wish that someone gets it for you! And bring people you like to hang out here. The more of us working on our stuff, the better for all of us. ♡
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 334: Losing my pants
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday.}
What worked this week?
Losing my pants.
I did not intend to lose my pants, of course. Just the opposite.
We drove into Salt Lake area just in time for me to be able to make it to cheesy dance aerobics, which is my favorite thing ever, and hard to do when you’re on the road and sleeping out in the middle of the desert.
I set my one relatively clean pair of workout pants down, and went to brush my teeth. And then they somehow disappeared. The pants, not my teeth.
We’d been on the road for five or six weeks, a while since the last laundry adventure, and there was really nothing else I could wear.
I dug up a pair of shorts, if you can call them that. I mean, the shortest shorts imaginable. Shorts that double as cute underwear or a bikini bottom. Not really clothing.
There was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to bounce around to terrible pop music and do high kicks and jazz isolations, so there I was.
In those shorts. In the center of a room packed with sensible moms in sensible black yoga pants and sensible grey tops, with matching sensible ponytails.
And I am wearing these outrageously tiny shorts, also electric orange and electric sports bras, and a tank top that wasn’t exactly clean.
My hair looked like you might imagine considering 1) I’d cut it myself over the bathroom sink in the middle of the night before we left, 2) it hadn’t been washed or brushed in a couple of weeks.
So I got to find out what it’s like to be basically half naked while jumping around in front of total strangers and looking extremely noticeable while doing it. And, much to my surprise, it was okay. I got over myself.
Maybe I don’t actually need to wear pants. Maybe my insecurities are stupid. Maybe the things my monsters say are irrelevant. Maybe none of the things I think matter actually do.
Oh, and not one person said, What happened to your pants, sweetie.
Next time I might…
Have some sort of plan for re-entry….
So I’ve taught led run [verb-ed] a lot over the past several years.
Fifty one Rallies, and probably a dozen retreats. And I always put a ton of emphasis on the complicated process of coming back to real life.
Because once you have been inside of something transformative, you have all this intel about what you want and need in your life. And then you return to your day-to-day, and suddenly you see all the things that aren’t working, and it can feel kind of horrible.
So, hilariously, I returned from my forty three day adventure on the road with ZERO plan for taking care of myself.
I mean, I thought I had a plan. I had a plan for all the things I wanted to do.
I was not prepared for how it might feel.
Next time I’d like to have maybe a three day buffer period where nothing is on my agenda except for taking baths, curling up in blankets, staring into space. With no mention of work, no input from the noisy world, nothing but time to land.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- Monday. First a massive ptsd meltdown that took me for a ride, then bureaucratic hell which made it worse, and then spending NINETEEN HOURS in the truck, while still in the aftermath of that morning’s episode. It was truly, deeply horrible in ways I can’t even explain, and I never want to experience anything like that again. I know I need to tend to body first, I know this is my real job and only job. And yet, I abdicate responsibility so hard and just try to grit my teeth and make it through. A breath for the long slow process of learning how to take better care of myself, given everything I know about what I need to be well.
- Shame about all of the above, and more. It comes in waves. I know there is nothing I can do to alter the past. All I can do is meet the pain of the past, love myself, breathe, trust, take care of myself to the best of the abilities. And still, there it is. A breath for healing, and for being.
- My body misses yoga and dance and long walks. My body hurts. Surprise! Of course it does. A breath for this.
- I didn’t really get along with Salt Lake. It’s the most plasticky place I’ve ever been, aside from Palm Springs, and at least Palm Springs does plastic in style. Those of you doing my Year of Emerging & Receiving have read my journals, and know that back in the spring I was getting so many clues from all directions about Utah. So I’d been feeling excited about spending a few days in Salt Lake City and finding out what was there for me. And mainly I didn’t like it. Nothing bad happened, just not a good place for a Havi. A breath for releasing expectations.
- Sometimes insecurity kicks in, and Ludicrous Fear Popcorn, and I go whooshing down the path of the most insanely nonsensical worry. A breath for clear seeing.
- So much letting go and reconfiguring. And, as I do this, I can see where the thing that is working right now is not going to be working in the future. A breath for grieving what is to come, and for trusting that it will be okay.
- Coming back has been so much harder than I’d imagined. And everything is breaking, both literally and figuratively. Computer not working. Dental work next week. No desire to deal with any of the things that need my attention. It is very disorienting not having the boy next to me holding my hand, I keep turning my head expecting him to be right next to me and he isn’t there. The world is loud. I have a lot of questions about what is next. A breath for landing, for remembering, and for trust-more love-more release-more receive-more.
- 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.
Eight breaths of good, reassuring, delight-filled.
- I am changing “ask and you shall receive” to “take care of yourself and you shall receive” because this was my magic this week, over and over again. Perfect example, I was sitting at the climbing gym and I was so uncomfortable but I wanted to be near an outlet. Then I noticed that I’d been feeling thirsty for a while and trying to ignore it. I immediately said, listen Havi Bell, take care of your wonderful body right now. But then I didn’t want to lose my seat and unplug my computer and there were like, a hundred reasons (“reasons”) to not go get water. Then I heard myself again and I knew nothing was more right than water. As soon as I came back from getting hydrated, this sweet guy came by and said, hey by the way there’s another room downstairs with couches and outlets and it’s super comfortable, you’d like it there. And I did, and my entire life got better. More of this please. A breath for thank you.
- The mid-life crisis/easing is going way better. Most of the time I’m feeling deliciously unconcerned about everything being wildly up in the air. A breath for trust, and for freedom.
- Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic! It came to its beautiful completion this week, as we arrived back in Portland after forty three days and five thousand plus miles of wandering. Feeling wildly thankful for the clarity and spaciousness of that gorgeous jaunt into possibility. This is one of the best things I’ve done for myself. Ready for the next op. A breath for receiving this.
- I did crazy brave things this week. For me. Like going dancing at a country western bar in Utah. A breath for adventuring.
- Finally, a plan is coming together! I think it is a really good plan. Excited! A breath for lightness and for new openings.
- This was the right time to come back. A breath for recognizing this.
- In theory, someone like me (a committed loner who thrives on quiet) should not enjoy spending so much time with another person, and yet, there you have it. I loved those forty three days of Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic, I loved smiling so much that my face hurt. I have a thousand new eye crinkles, and that is okay. A breath for logging a hundred and fourteen hours of holding hands while in a truck, and for joy.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. My beautiful home. My wonderful housemate. Postcards from Svevo. Dancing in Utah. Flowers everywhere. Hannuka and candles and warmth. Heart full of love. Tiny miracles everywhere. 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.
Ordered the 2015 calendars(the Year of More!), got more writing done, and the plan that wasn’t coming together is coming together, thanks to the fractal flowers. Wham Boom.
Revisiting some wise important words of truth from past-me.
This post called These are my tools. YES!
Superpowers…
Powers I had this week…
I had fantastic superpowers this week. My favorite was the power of It Looks Like A Carwash But It’s A Hotel With A Gigantic Bathtub.
Superpowers I want.
The superpower of I Do Not Even Slightly Care What Anyone Else Thinks, and the power of I Treasure Myself Completely.
The Salve of Take Care Of Yourself And Receive.
This salve contains, among other magical ingredients:
Permission. Permission. More Permission.
This salve is luscious in ways that are positively subversive.
The very act of applying it, letting it soften into my skin, feels so good.
I suddenly remember that there is nothing else to do other than make sure that I’m okay.
This salve quietly reminds me that this is the only thing that matters right now, or maybe ever: asking what I need, advocating for myself, resting into safety, layering on new experiences of good.
This salve smells woodsy and the tiniest bit sweet. When I wear it, I stand a little taller, walk with more graceful aliveness, smile at trees, blow kisses to stars.
There is a crispness of knowing: not only is it okay to provide for myself, it is vital to the balance of the world around me. When I wear this salve, I also become a catalyst of permission, safety, unicorn magic.
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 comes from Richard, and they’re called Hopefully Also Spooner, they are a Canadian zydeco band that uses cutlery as instruments, and actually it’s just one guy.
Attenzione! Attention, AGENTS.
I am still recommending the Emergency Get Calm, Quiet And Steady techniques, since they are keeping things good around here for me.
So I want to seed a reminder that this is a thing, and it helps, a lot. Not just with calming down in the moment but with building the kind of habits that allow you to change your relationship with whatever is scary or uncomfortable.
I hardly ever recommend these because the page is already many years old and needs rewriting. However, copywriting aside, this is still one of the best things I have ever made, by a lot. I have two boxes in my office full of the sweetest thank you notes from people, and so many of them are for this.
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.
Shmita
This year is Shmita year, it is the sabbatical year in the seven year agricultural cycle when you let the land rest.
More than rest. You let the land lie fallow. Lie fallow.
That phrase used to feel desolate to me, almost a lonely sort of emptying, but now it feels luscious, vital, thrilling.
What happens when I enter — consciously, purposefully — into a state of intentional not-producing? What happens when I choose the experience of letting my fields lie fallow?
This is what pulls me right now, this and everything else about Shmita.
It’s for releasing.
Shmita literally means RELEASE.
It is a whoosh let go let go sort of word.
Whoosh! Let go, let go.
I am in the desert, and this is what I am doing: letting things go.
Releasing and recovering.
To let land lie fallow is to let it rest and replenish, to be left unsown for a period of time in order to restore its fertility.
During this time, all agricultural activity is forbidden by halakha (Jewish law). You can do things like weeding or trimming — clearing out — but only as a necessary preventative measure only, not to improve the growth of trees or other plants.
Debts are let go of.
It is a time of emptying and replenishing, of emerging and receiving, easing and releasing, echoing and returning.
It is a releasing to refill (bountiful harvests are promised to those who observe the Shmita), but that is not the point of the releasing, as far as I’m concerned.
The releasing needs to happen because the releasing needs to happen. The plentitude that comes back to the land is a result of the releasing, not the reason to release.
Twenty-first century releasing.
In these decidedly non-biblical times, our fields are — for most of us –metaphorical, internal.
And yet here we are, overworked, overcooked, overwhelmed, overdrawn, endlessly plugged in, exhausted.
We live in a culture that is all about producing, output, productivity, ass in chair, making stuff happen, get it done. We get so disconnected from what our fields actually need.
If you want to do more thinking about Shmita as a concept, and possible implications for us, I would direct you to this piece from Hazon, which means vision.
The Hazon piece also references six qualities: Sova (enoughness), Hodaya (thankfulness), Revaya (plenty), Hesed (loving-kindness), Puriyut (fertile), Otzar (treasury and shared resources). It’s almost a compass, so if anyone else feels like playing with that, I am adding Ahava (love) and Shlemut (wholeness).
And while I hesitate to link to HuffPo, a place I find exhausting, my interest was piqued reading about how some Jews are giving up things like Facebook, Amazon, apps, news and more as a modern experiment in Shmita year, finding their own way to live out both the practice and the intention of releasing, sustainability, wholeness.
Releasing, sustainability, wholeness.
I have been doing a lot of thinking over the past several months about what Shmita could look and feel like for me.
God knows it’s necessary. I’ve been doing this Fluent Self work since March of 2005. That’s just about ten years of asking my fields to produce.
The thing is, I like producing. What we are doing here feels tremendously vital. It also actively makes use of my superpowers: building creative spaces and culture for intentional play, infusing them with spaciousness, permission and sovereignty.
And given this world of ours, this world of go go go that seems to be fueled on guilt, shame and pushing, this world where the default choice is not to be conscious or aware, I think what we are doing here is both necessary and deeply subversive.
So I’ve been looking at what reconfigurations need to be made in my business, how I can change how I work/play so I don’t burn out.
Asking over and over again: What is needed here? What do I know about this? What do I really know if I’m being completely honest with myself?
What do I know?
1) Resting does not require a reason.
Or at least, it shouldn’t require a reason. I would like to be able to remember this.
Right now I rest when I reach my end point. When my fields are already done.
Resting to recover is a good reason, a very legitimate reason, and I don’t want it to be my reason anymore.
I need healthier cycles that are grounded in sovereignty and self-fluency, anchored in truth-love.
2) My body is telling me that we are done.
These last three years have been rough, it is just now occurring to me that this may or may not be related to having plowed through — if you will excuse the agricultural pun — the first seven years without pausing.
One of the things that has been made very clear to me over the past five weeks of Operation Tranquility Recovery (Magic!) is this:
I have reached the point of beyond worn out. My body has made it very clear that it doesn’t have more to give.
I can keep pushing and trying to make stuff happen, and my body will go on strike and I will need to rest and heal. Or I can skip the part about pushing and go straight to the “rest and heal” option, but either way resting and healing is the new game plan.
3) Rest, space, time, quiet.
That’s what I need. Preferably away from the endless noise of the internet. And definitely a break from being immersed in the day to day work of systems, chocolate shop drama.
I want to find out what my fields want to produce, what I want to write about, what I want to be doing and experiencing in this life, but in order to get there, I need this Shmita period of releasing.
4) What does service look like.
Whenever I take time to look at what I care about, something that always comes up as incredibly important to me is being in/of service.
And the reason I don’t stop (even though I talk so much about beautiful red lights and the practice of pausing) is that I don’t want to stop serving.
Except now this is going to be how I have to serve.
Taking space and time to figure out what is next is going to be how I serve. Taking care of myself is going to be how I serve. Emptying out and not-producing until I can find a more sustainable way to serve is going to be how I serve.
5) The edge of the circle.
Edge of the circle
When I wrote about Constellations, I talked about how I do my best work at the edges of the circle, holding the circle.
This is very important for me. I am an ally of spaces. Where I excel is at making spaces and experiences special.
This is where I want to be. Not in the center. Not at the front of the room.
What else do I know about what I want?
I want to be a bell: to be at my most resonant. This means doing the things that help me connect to myself (getting on the floor and breathing) and not doing the things that disconnect me (reading everything on twitter).
I want to be a beacon. This is about living by example.
Living in a harmonious congruent way in which I am true to my instincts, my needs and my desires. Demonstrating that it is possible to live like this. Walk the walk, clear the path, document the process, share through being.
I don’t want to teach through teaching, I want to teach through glowing. I want being a beacon to be the primary way that I work. Doing the work, documenting the work, breaking it down where necessary.
I want to take deep breaths, spend time in my thank-you heart, play, laugh, wear costumes, write, dance, cry. To spend more time in presence and grace, less time in the land of spreadsheets.
I want to protect my energy, my force field, my memory at all costs, this means things like not reading about Gamergate right now, removing sources of toxicity from my life.
What does Shmita look like for me right now?
Even though this current Shmita year began in the fall with the Jewish new year, I am going to begin mine at the end of February, which is when I embark into the year in my business.
I am going to devote this year to releasing and letting go, in all forms. Not just releasing. Easing and releasing. Allowing the releasing to be a softening into.
Releasing: Clearing out my space, my home, my closets, saying goodbye to everything that is no longer harmonious or congruent.
Releasing: Grieving what needs to be grieved.
Releasing: Getting quiet. Time to honor the decisions being made (as Bryan puts it), instead of forcing decisions or making decisions based on what I think other people want from me.
My plan. Trusting and laughing.
If you’re currently panicking about the thought of the blog going away, breathe freely. The blog is not going away. This is where I process and reflect, how I empty and replenish. I still plan on being here.
I am also going to continue to spend time with my (private) online community, now entering its seventh year, though it is getting a new name, a new look and a new focus. More about this soon.
And other than that, I am going to rest and release. I am not clear yet how this is sustainable in terms of, you know, money and rent and real life things like that, and yet I am so very clear that doing anything else is not sustainable, so I am letting a possible plan for this emerge.
I will also be renting out half of my house as well as embarking on a year of intentional Not Spending, and will write more about this as I go.
And practicing trust, because what is crazier than not planting, not producing? How were my ancestors brave enough to let their fields go? Fallow sounds like barren, not fertile. And yet fallow is the answer.
It is deeply counter-intuitive, and so it requires trusting and laughing. That’s what I’m starting with.
Play with me.
I would love warmth, support and enthusiasm about Shmita, as a concept or more specifically my experiments with it.
You are welcome to share anything that was sparked for you, or do your own processing about rest and releasing, fallow fields, what this might look like for you, anything you’re working on.
And you can laugh with me about how I have been thinking about this biblical practice for the past four months, but it took — yes — forty days and forty nights of wandering the desert, the desert of California and Nevada that is, to get to the point where I can say out loud that this is what I want and need.
The way commenting works here: we make sure we have safe space through the practice of not giving each other advice or telling anyone how to be or how to feel.
We all have our stuff, we’re all working on our stuff, it’s a process. We meet ourselves and each other with patience, warmth, love, to the best of our abilities.
I have a heart full of appreciation for everyone who plays here, everyone who reads. It is vulnerable and scary to talk about what I really want and what I really know, and knowing I can do this with you is a big deal, even if I have to take a deep breath and remember this every time I post. ♡