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 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. ♡
Wish 284: like a red sweater, for example
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
The red sweater.
Before I took off in a camper on Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic, I ran away to Eugene (the city, not the person) for a few days.
Just to soak up some pre-emptive tranquility to get me through until the op and I were ready for each other. My uncle Svevo is the most tranquil person I know, and I knew that if I could just be in the same place with him, everything would be okay again.
While in Eugene, I went out dancing, which was amazing, and while out dancing I somehow lost my black sweater.
I really, really love that sweater and I was feeling super sad. Except then I remember what we say at Rally (Rally), which is that everything that happens at Rally is part of Rally.
And since everything that happens on Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic is part of the op, then I had to operate under the assumption that losing the black sweater was vital to the mission, I just didn’t now how.
The next day.
The next day Svevo took me to the train station, and we were early and went for a walk.
We passed a clothing exchange shop and he said, maybe they have your sweater!
I went in and met a deep crimson red sweater by Eileen Fisher: thick, warm, cozy, flattering. Eighteen dollars and exactly my size.
So I went home wearing the sweater, it’s a very Havi sweater, and I’ve been wearing it for pretty much all of Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic.
It’s actually a much better sweater for this op than the black one would have been, because it is cold in the desert, especially at night.
This red sweater is like having the Right Tool For The Job, and I didn’t even know I would need it. It’s almost as if the black one knew I’d need something else and took off on its own adventures so that I could take care of a need before I needed it.
Apply to everything.
What if….
(Deep breath for me)
What if I can apply this red sweater thing to everything in my life?
For example, I have been feeling very frustrated about many things in my life not working the way I think they should, or at all.
What if these things are like my black sweater? What if something going wrong (in my perception) is like losing the sweater, an opportunity to replace the thing that isn’t right for my current or upcoming needs with something that is?
What if this is another way to say thank-you to the breaking, to smile at the broken pots?
What if I can say a graceful goodbye to all the versions of [black sweater], trusting that the thing that will replace them will be so much better than I ever imagined?
I mean, I was super sad over the loss of the black sweater when it happened, but since embarking on Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic, I have had a glowing heart full of appreciation for this just-right super-snuggly red sweater, thankful for it all the time, and have not missed the black one for even a moment.
What do I know about this?
- It is very important to not push through grief. Grief is legitimate. I am allowed to mourn the loss of all the [black sweaters]. When one door closes, it is okay to feel sad about not having access to that room anymore.
- I love the way this turns bad news into hopefulness. Oh, this thing is breaking or malfunctioning or exiting because it was done, and the next thing is going to be a huge improvement. When one door closes, it is very exciting if I can remember that the new one opening for me is the right one.
- Having this mentality of red-sweater-receptivity seems to require a certain calm grace that people like Svevo have, and that I do not always remember how to access. This will take practice, deep heart breaths, patience, play.
What do I know about what I want?
This has to do with entirely new levels of trust.
What’s next.
I don’t know. Right now it seems as if — with many aspects of my life — I’m in that point between having lost the black sweater and before the red one has revealed itself.
So I guess this is why I come here each week: to seed some wishes, to get back to the qualities.
What are the qualities of my red sweater wish?
Play. Presence. Ease. Illumination. Trust. Release. Love. Receive.
What do I really want?
I want to be someone who is really, really good at letting go, and actually enjoys it. And who laughs at how this didn’t use to be true.
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 in bed in the camper.
At some point during this trip I have undergone a shift from being someone who finds small spaces claustrophobic to someone who loves the coziness of a ridiculously low ceiling.
I like typing in bed, reclining, resting the laptop against my knees.
I am liking all kinds of things I don’t normally like at all. For example, how it gets dark obscenely early this close to the solstice, and we set up camp at five and I am in bed by seven thirty in the evening. This would normally be depressing to me, except right now it feels right.
Maybe not forever-right, just right for now. Like this red sweater which is exactly what I want and need, and one day in the future it will no longer be the sweater for me and it will become someone else’s just right sweater.
Me: Hey, slightly-wiser me, what do you have for me?
She: You think this wish is a simple wish, a surface wish, but actually it goes so much deeper than you think.
Me: Tell me more.
She: This is a wish that can only be wished by someone who has loved and lost, who has lost her clear seeing and then regained it.
Me: I don’t get it.
She: Everything is temporary, and everything is beautiful. There are different ways to react to knowing this, and the way you are choosing to react (appreciating the red sweater for what it is right now, not thinking that it will be your one and only right sweater forever) is really great. You are able to do this because of what you have lost, not things on the black-sweater level of loss, the other losses. You have new eyes, babe. This is good. I’m glad you got here so we can do the next piece together.
Me: Thank you.
Clues?
I was writing about the chocolate shop, and I misspelled shop so that it was ship, and then I went oooh! Because I love ships. The chocolate ship, I like that so much!
What if it’s not a chocolate shop, it’s a chocolate SHIP?!?
What happens then? And in what other places in my life can I switch out a vowel and make them better?
The superpower of bringing light to the corners.
I owe you guys an apology. Or maybe I don’t, maybe this is a perfect example of the red sweater thing.
We’re in the month of Illumination, with the superpower of bringing light to the corners.
And last week I forgot to switch out the month and said we were still in the month of Sovereignty, with the superpower of I do not wait in line for my own swing.
That might have been good though, because it was working with sovereignty that helped me say what I need, which brought me to Clarity, and the thing that helps with clarity is illumination. So here we are.
What else needs to be illuminated? That’s what I’m asking right now, and I am enjoying many different sources of illumination: the moon, and the flashlight app on my phone, and also going to bed ridiculously early (at 5:30pm on Wednesday, just saying) and waking up and dancing spirals in the light. Illumination is exactly what I am needing.
Oh, and by the way, if you enjoyed this year’s Fluent Self Year of Salves calendar, or if you didn’t get one but wished you had, the 2015 calendar — the Year of More — is ready and it is gorgeous, and you can order one soon. I recommend!
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 midlife easing…
I got much more ease than I was expecting. Really I don’t know why I don’t wish for things more often. Just the process of uncovering and getting closer to desire is its own magic, and anything that comes after that is a bonus.
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 333: Good things come in three three threes!
It is Friday and we are here.
{a breath for Friday.}
What worked this week?
Being honest about what I wanted.
My god, it’s hard though.
It is endlessly fascinating to me, still, how much I will twist myself into a pretzel to avoid doing this.
There’s this whole cycle I go through where I recognize that I don’t want to do something but then try to distract and cover up this information, even from myself.
I immediately set to work trying to convince myself to do the thing I don’t want.
And then all my monsters jump in and say things like, “Come on, you should try new things, you should stretch yourself, you should be adventurous, you could make this work if you just stop being selfish, no one wants to be with someone who ruins their fun, wouldn’t you rather just stick it out than have [person] resent you for ruining the fun? Come on, maybe you’ll like it this time!”
It takes me a while to recognize that this is just my Survival At Any Cost people-pleasing defense-mechanism tendencies.
And even once I realize that I can’t do the thing I don’t want to do even if I try to force it, I still go into over-explaining mode instead of just saying, “That’s not what I want. I’d rather do this other thing instead”.
But you know what? I did it. I said what I wanted.
Despite going into all my usual contortionist patterns, I still was able to say what I wanted. And the world didn’t end. And not only did I get to avoid Vegas, I have more proof that next time I can just skip the endless prevarication process. Yay.
Next time I might…
Interrupt this pattern sooner, if I can.
I have so many good clues.
Over-explaining and giving lots of reasons in defense of what I know I need is a clue that I’m not saying what I want and need.
Trying to figure out what the other person really wants is a clue that I’m not saying what I want and need.
There are so many sweet, loving ways I can interrupt this pattern. Just taking a breath and saying hi, pattern! That counts too.
I want to speed up the process of recognizing that I’m in this, and then give myself a hundred billion sparklepoints because this is the hardest.
And: Compassion, compassion, compassion for small me who mistakenly learned that it is dangerous to speak up for herself.
Eight breaths for the hard, challenging and mysterious.
- My body misses yoga and dance and long walks. A breath for this.
- Everything takes so much longer than I think it will, and I fight this, over and over again. The thing is, it takes as long as it takes. A blog post takes me two and a half hours to write? That is the birthing process for that piece of writing. It somehow takes three hours to get ready to leave a place because I get triggered and have to take care of myself? Great, three hours is the right amount of time for that. This is so hard for me to remember, and I go through so much frustration and self-recrimination about things being the way they are. A breath for things being the way they are in this moment.
- So much releasing and undoing. This is not easy stuff. In the past I’d hit burnout and then take some time to myself and bounce back. I’m older now, and it’s been ten years of having this business, and that’s not how it works anymore. I’ve been on the road for 37 days, and it feels like only a taste of the kind of emptying I need. My body is giving me very clear information that it’s done working, and needs real time for deep replenishing on an entirely new level. I am listening, and at the same time I’m not really sure how this can work in practice. A breath for receptivity to good news, perfect simple solutions, surprise miracles.
- Ugh the internet. Ugh my addiction to being connected to things that don’t even provide connection. A breath for a much-needed reconfiguring.
- 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.
- Forgetting truth-love, forgetting to nourish myself first, forgetting to tend to body first, forgetting that this is my real job and only job. A breath for remembering, and for trust-more love-more release-more receive-more.
- I am seriously allergic to dissonance. It’s getting worse. This week I got a splitting headache just from sitting next to someone who was not saying what they wanted. Later someone else told an un-truth and my leg started twitching. Just what I need, for my already-intense sensitivities to intensify. A breath for what is.
- 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 had THREE AND A HALF WHOLE DAYS without being in my mid-life crisis/easing, and without feeling worried about anything at all. And then even though there were bits and spurts of worry, there was also a surprising amount of ease. May there be more of this please. A breath for freedom.
- Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic: now on Day 37. This experience has given me so much clarity, so much spaciousness to look at my life with new eyes. A breath for receiving this.
- Seeing twelve antelope run in front of me. A breath for thank you.
- I got to do bouncy things in Reno, and my body loved it.
- Finally, a plan is coming together! A breath for lightness and openings.
- The beautiful boy: “For 3500 miles I’ve been thinking about you, touching you, feeling sweet on you.” I don’t know how to describe what I’m feeling, so let’s just have a breath for these deep, intense, effervescent moments of bubbling and softening, filling up on this full-body experience of joy.
- Sparks, in various forms. Flickering recognition. Moments of yes, this is right. The antelopes were a moment. Also arriving in Silver City, Nevada and feeling a familiar pull to something good. That smile. A breath for signs.
- Thankfulness. So much is good. This was actually a really great week, I can’t point exactly to why but I feel better than I have in a long time. Oh, and in addition to the antelope, I saw jackrabbits and a herd of wild horses and was glared at balefully by some bored longhorn. Wise beautiful desert, steady mountains. This trip with this boy. Hearing what I need to hear. Releasing and more releasing. 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.
Finalized the 2015 calendar (the Year of More!), did some more Sip Hint magic, 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 Something to believe in.
Superpowers…
Powers I had this week…
I had the power of finding the right words to express myself in a way that the other person could hear and not feel hurt.
Superpowers I want.
Sticking with this one: The superpower of Joyful Full-Hearted Adventuring While Treasuring Myself. And trusting my instincts.
The Salve of Receptive to Good Surprises.
This salve contains, among other magical ingredients:
Trust. Presence. Wonder. Secret Smiles. Serendipity. Sparks. Illuminating. Receiving.
As I massage this salve into my skin, I feel the tingly warmth of anticipation.
This salve has secret ingredients that soothe my nervous system, and suddenly I’m seeing wonderful things that were always there but I didn’t know about them.
This salve makes me aware of the good surprises I haven’t been noticing, as well as the ones that are on their way to me right now.
This is a salve that sweetens my thank-you heart, it sharpens my senses, it warms me through and through.
When I wear this salve, I also become the deliverer of good surprises to others, and this fills me with extra delight.
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 Molly, and they’re called The Internal Design Singalong, they are playing at the 333 club this week in honor of our special chicken, and yes, 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.
Wish 283: mid-life easing
Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.
♡
Mid-life easing.
Shortly after my mom died, I took off on a road trip with a camper and a boy and two notebooks and more pens than you would think necessary and no real plan.
Well, there actually has been a plan, which I’ve been more or less sticking to. The plan has been work a few hours a day, see beautiful places, think, write, release.
The part about no plan is that I am not really sure where I’m going or when I’m coming back or what’s next. Also I am already out of pens.
I’ve been referring to this voyage as Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic, and it has been very good for me. And by good, I mean: useful. Also good. Mostly useful.
Somewhere around Day 30 though, I officially hit mid-life crisis mode. Full on.
Full on. Hello.
I hadn’t been expecting this.
We weren’t supposed to meet like this.
It was surprising.
Me: “Um, okay, hello mid-life crisis, I have heard about you as a concept but I didn’t think we needed to do this.
“I mean, come on, why would we need this. My life is pretty chill. I live more or less on the margins, which is where I like to be, and I swim my own way, which is how I like to do.
“So listen, there’s no reason for everything to break down, and also in case you haven’t noticed, I just went through three years of EVERYTHING BREAKING. I learned how to smile at the broken pots, and say thank you to both the breaking and the broken, and I’m okay now, and we don’t need to do this, right?”
Though really it wasn’t that surprising.
I mean, okay, I was already dealing with some stuff.
For an example, an entire brigade of Shame Monsters, led by the very loud head monster whose name is something like You Screwed Up Everything Irrevocably In One Awful Noir Moment Three Years Ago And That’s When Everything Went Horribly Wrong This Is All Your Fault Forever And It Cannot Be Undone.
So I was already in peace talks with the shame and the guilt, with my fear of the empty places.
That’s why I came out here to the desert. To sit with the void, as my friend A puts it. To sit, to wait and to listen.
And then the mid-life crisis showed up, when (I thought) it had no business inviting itself to the party, and it was not fun and I was a mess of doubt, regret, and apprehension, with a big dose of Okay Something Has To Change Right Now.
Listening.
I noticed the pull towards pattern and habit, a familiar fork in a familiar road.
I could do something really, really stupid, or I could hide and wait out the storm.
I know where both those paths go, and I am not interested in taking either of them again, so I said new path, please, and that was when I remembered to return to the practice: breath, legitimacy, this is normal, this is okay.
That’s the practice. Meet myself in the moment with love and spaciousness and permission, return to I am here now, what do I need, what do I desire, how can I take exquisite care of myself right now?
And then, suddenly, a quiet realization:
What if it’s not a mid-life crisis at all? What if it’s a mid-life easing? A mid-life releasing? A mid-life letting go?
What if?
I can do a mid-life easing. I’m ready for a mid-life easing.
My business is just shy of turning ten years old in a couple months, right when I turn thirty eight, which is prime mid-life easing territory.
What if this isn’t so much a falling apart as it is a letting go?
Last year was the Year of Emptying & Replenishing. This past year has been the Year of Emerging & Receiving. This coming year is the Year of Easing & Releasing.
So bring it.
What do I know about this?
Letting a crisis become an easing is about perspective, which, funny enough, is why I am out here in the desert, dancing spirals in the wind and walking among the rocks.
This isn’t about semantic play. This isn’t about rose-colored glasses. It’s about looking at something clearly and honestly, with presence, and realizing that my vision has been distorted.
There is nothing wrong with letting things go. There is nothing wrong with letting things move and change. Everything changes, and everything ends, and this is important because otherwise you get stagnation.
What I want is aliveness. Vitality and luscious, awake presence: delight in life.
Maybe a good mid-life easing is how I make sure I’m on course with that. That I’m not carrying anything out of habit or obligation.
Maybe it is time for some deconstruction and reconfiguring, and it feels a little like falling apart, because I can’t see the new form yet.
Maybe I’ve been feeling uneasy because I couldn’t see this letting go is only going to bring more ease.
What else do I know?
For months now I have been whispering Love More Trust More Release More Receive More.
Now I get to practice.
What is next?
Clearly there is a version of me who is really good at being in a mid-life easing. She finds the whole thing entertaining. Let’s talk to her.
Now.
I am sitting on a bench and people are walking behind me. I hate having people behind me. I need my back to the wall, I’m a Bond Girl. There isn’t a better option right now though with the way the seating is arranged here, this is actually the most protected spot available.
I often catch myself wishing I weren’t highly sensitive, wishing I could just be a regular person who can sit on a regular bench. Wishing that sounds didn’t drive me crazy, that I didn’t experience physical pain when someone is untruthful.
This is what I get to work with though. Like on those cooking shows where an expert chef has to make a meal using a bizarre collection of ingredients. These are my ingredients.
I am remembering this wise advice: Grieve what cannot be, get creative, don’t hide who you are.
What do I really want?
Same as the past few weeks. 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: Change your seat.
Me: Okay…
She: Change your place, change your luck.
Me: So I’m the problem?
She: You’re the solution. Give yourself safety instead of wishing you were someone else.
Clues?
In the car we pressed pause on the music, and then for hours the display was just repeating the song title:
Do What You Want Be What You Are.
And yes, it took over an hour of staring at that to realize it was a clue. Sometimes I’m slow. Sometimes I trip over things. There are more clues in the lyrics, too.
The superpower of wearing my crown.
We’re in the month of Sovereignty, with the superpower of I do not wait in line for my own swing.
Current sovereignty challenges: Standing in my strength, unapologetically glowing, trusting what I know, trusting that doing what is obviously good for me is also good for everyone else involved. Acting on this steady truth.
Today I watched someone I care about make potentially painful situations extra-painful situations in an attempt to avoid potential conflict. Since I do this too, a lot, it was like looking in the mirror and it was uncomfortable, and I am going to pay attention.
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 hearing both the question and the answer…
I’m working on this one. I am holding my answer like a small stone, and letting it warm my hands.
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