Last week I started making a list of things I know about nests.

Or really, as it soon became clear, a list of things I didn’t know that I knew about nests.

On the surface, I don’t have a lot of thoughts about nests. In fact, prior to last week, I would have described myself as INDIFFERENT when it comes to nests.

But I was using the idea of a nest as a proxy for a project I was working on. And a nest seemed like a good example of something that I don’t care about that might be important.

From my notes:

Nests are the embodiment of SHELTER.

Much like a sukkah or a blanket fort (or a cocoon), nests can be temporarily constructed for a purpose and then be released/shed/deconstructed/taken-apart.

Nests exist to be a container for a very specific purpose or place in time:

• For a season.
• For a resting period.
• For an incubation.
• For however long it takes to grow something.

Things can be nested inside of other things.

Also nestled, which for me has connotations of things like [+cozy] [+aligned] [+snug] and [+comfort].

Nesting dolls are containers for each other.

But they’re also containers (nests!) for mystery and surprise and delight.

There is something intricate about a nest.

For me, if I were breaking down the word into my personal associations (a la metaphor mouse), NEST would include:

[+intentional] [+craftsmanship*] [+gathered] [+organic] [+sheltering] [+slow process] [+transition] [+comfort] [+softeness] [+growing stronger] [+sinking into] [+release] [+shavasana] [+knowledge] [+experience]

* Though if a bird crafts it, isn’t that craftsbirdship? It kind of should be, if only because that is a crazy-awesome-looking word.

Nests are containers, but it’s more than that.

Nests are doors. Nests are homes.

• The Playground is a nest for Rally (Rally!).
• Rally is a nest for changing how you make progress on mysterious and not-mysterious projects.
• The ship is a nest for the voyage.
• The Refueling Station is a nest for releasing.
• The (opening-next-month!) Floating Playground is a nest for process and for feeling like you belong in your life.
• Shiva Nata is a nest for transformation and rewriting patterns (and for being the eye of the storm).
• Hoppy House is a nest for learning how to feel at home.
• My body is a nest for learning how to be at home.
• My heart is a nest for hiding and for being loved.
• My cells are nests for blueprints.

And so on.

Tinier and tinier.

Like nesting dolls. Or nesting nests.

How do you know that you know how to build a nest?

The knowledge for how to build a nest (or to invoke a nest) is very… internal.

This stuff isn’t covered in manuals. It’s a thing you need to remember that you know.

There are maps and plans hidden inside the bones of my wings, but first I have to remember that these things exist.

What is powerful about a nest?

Hidden strength.

What is useful about a nest?

Being separate and hidden.

(That could mean above or deep).

When is a nest not a nest?

When you are done with it, and then it can be taken apart or turned into something else.

What happens to me when I am nesting?

I am the complete cycle: mother and infant (in the archetypal sense, not in the about-to-go-to-Bolivia sense).

Caring and being cared for at the same time.

An internally directed cycle.

Also, any nest is really a nest-in-progress. Nests aren’t done. You can always tweak, alter and change. Lovingly maintaining a nest is part of the experience.

What else is a nest?

Well, safe rooms are a form of nests.

My relationship with X was a training ground for me to learn very specific things.

It wasn’t the soft comforting sort of nest, but it was the kind of nest that Mr. Miyagi might build to teach you how to wax on and wax off.

A bootcamp nest? Ewwwwwwww. Oyvavoy. Not that. More like how I’m Bruce Wayne, and the bat cave is a nest. Ahhhhhhhh. Got it.

Right now all the training that I’m doing to get mission-ready is a nest.

AND all the resting that I’m doing to get mission-ready is also a nest.

How do I know that I’m done with a nest?

Okay, so in my personal world of nests, there is no being unceremoniously dropped out.

That is a distortion. That is my pain experience. It’s from then.

In my world of nests, there’s a moment in which I know I am done.

And then the next adventure — which is itself a new and bigger nest — just appears. And the previous nest dissolves.

In I allow my nests to expand and contract as necessary.

And even when I’m flying, the experience of flying is a nest.

My relationship with the experience of flying is also a nest.

Every tree is a nest. Each new opening is a nest.

What is next?

Trusting what I know.

Trusting the nest.

Trusting the me who built it.

Play with me! The commenting blanket fort.

This is my process. It’s personal and a little vulnerable. What I would like: loving sighs. No advice, no analysis. Making space for my understanding of nests to be different than yours if that’s the case.

If you’d like, you can find out what you know about nests and use that as a proxy for something else you’re working on.

Or you can find out what you know about something else (like curtain rods or clouds) and that will probably tell you useful things as well.

Or you can sit here with me and drink tea. Or not tea. Whatever you like.

Usual comment zen applies. We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We play. We make room for each other.

Love, as always, to the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

You guys! I have no voice today because I screamed my head off at the roller derby season opener last night.

Our badass Guns N Rollers killed it. Final score: 164-56.

This has been a long time coming. I’ve been a sponsor for three seasons and a fan for twice that, and I have yet to see a bout like this.

You know I run agility trainings for the team twice a month, right? With some destuckification basics thrown in for good measure.

Anyway, I’ve written my share of roller-derby-related Very Personal Ads. And it felt so good to watch this WELL-DESERVED victory and know that I got to be a part of it.

So let’s have some cheering for GNR!

Okay, on to the VPAs.

Thing 1: An old laptop computer for the Playground

Here’s what I want:

I need a computer at the Playground. Except I won’t be using it for anything other than playing yoga dvds. Only the non-sucky ones, of course. So it doesn’t need to be in great shape, as long as I can do that.

It needs to be a laptop so that I can easily move it from room to room.

I’m hoping that someone in my circle of people can donate one or know someone else who has one that’s close to retirement. Maybe someone who will be at an upcoming Rally (Rally!) could be a connection too.

Playground computer! I will adore you and appreciate you!

Ways this could work:

I’m putting it here!

I’ll play with…

Doing an OOD on it.

Trusting that the right thing will show up at the right time.

* I cannot WAIT until the Floating Playground opens. We’ll have an entire board just for doing OODs and I will pretty much live there. OODs! It will be the best.

Thing 2: Making eating beautiful.

Here’s what I want:

I have been looking at these gorgeous pictures of a shabbes meal (yes, urban frum pictures), and feeling so completely inspired and enthusiastic.

We eat such amazing food at Hoppy House, but what if the setting reflected how beautiful the food is? That seems like it could be another important part of entry.

So I’m going to think about that.

I won’t be able to play with it this week because I’ll be at Rally (Rally!), but maybe some aspect of my mysterious Rally project will work as a fractal flower for this too.

Ways this could work:

I could make a list or collection of colors, styles and images that appeal to me.

And start investigating.

I’m not ready to commit to buying stuff or even for looking in stores. But to plant the seed, and to connect to the symbolic essence:

Color. Nourishment. Dedicated time and space to an experience. Commitment. Presence. Delight. Rejoicing. Sweetness. Welcoming. Belonging. Home.

It has to do with setting things up for the way I want to live. And with presents for future me.

Again, the important part isn’t the stuff. The important part is intentionally preparing for the voyage.

I’ll play with…

Interviewing myself about what I already know about this.

Thing 3: The Playground needs a bunch of things in an ongoing way.

Here’s what I want:

The Playground pretty much always needs things like costumes and stickers and art supplies and coloring books.

And cushions!

And magazines that we can cut up for Reflectings. (I swear it’s not collage! Okay, fine, it looks like collage….)

Since we’ll be taking over a new and much bigger space in March, we will need even more of all of these.

I want a way to keep a steady flow going without having this be my permanent VPA.

Ways this could work:

We could make a page for the Playground site listing needs (ongoing and special-occasion).

And then I could link to it from the Chicken or remind people at the Frolicsome Bar now and then…

We could also post some more about it on the Playground bulletin boards…

I’ll play with…

Talking this over with the Director (who is the me-who-is-on-her-way).

Asking smart, loving questions, and staying open to being surprised.

Thing 4: Smoothness with the lease!

Here’s what I want:

We’re in what is (I hope!) our last round of lease negotiations for the new space.

We’ve had all sorts of wise and capable people weigh in.

And now we’re ready for everything to sort itself out smoothly and easily so that we can enter the space March 1st.

Ways this could work:

I can do the alignment exercise with the building owners again.

I can plant the wishes.

I can talk it out with slightly future me.

I’ll play with…

Dressing like the Director.

Talking to the building.

Humming its favorite song.

Thing 5: A joyful Rally!

Here’s what I want:

This week is Rally, and Rally is my favorite thing in the entire world.

I want to feel energized. I want to take good care of myself.

I want to stick to my experiment of not answering any questions whatsoever (except at lunch, of course!).

Ways this could work:

It just could.

Rally is magic.

I’ll play with…

Going on silent retreat when I need to.

Lots and lots of shivanautical silliness.

Drawing monsters from the monster coloring book.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted a word for the act of making things congruent, and I didn’t find one. But somehow it didn’t matter, because the congruencing happened anyway.

And that was my second ask. It was BRILLIANT. I depiled the piles, threw away the old, moved the new, and deleted half of my phone contacts. Yay.

I wanted doors that need closing to stay closed. And that’s working.

Then I wanted to find out in what way certain things that do not appear to be good are actually good. That was a remarkably useful question, and I’m glad I asked.

And I wanted ease-filled happy signing-of-the-lease, and we are so much closer on that. We got terrific feedback from our attorney and from the plumber. We enjoyed the walk-through. Our realtor has been amazing. It’s all moving in the right direction.

Plus I wrote 7,000 words about a thing I’d been stuck on.

Oh, and the thing I didn’t ask for out loud totally happened too. Well done, me-from-last-week! Sparklepoints all around.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

This week absolutely zooooomed by.

I’m not even sure how that happened.

And it felt like a pretty good week after these past few extra-extra-challenging ones.

(And everyone breathes a sigh of IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME.)

Anyway, let’s do this. Let’s see what happened.

The hard stuff

So much going on.

The mind. It boggles.

Endings.

They’re a big deal.

Even when you think you’re ready.

Transitions can involve a lot of work.

This weekend was the end of three years of running my Kitchen Table program, an amazing online community of smart, creative, good-hearted people.

Surprisingly, I felt really comfortable and unconflicted about the ending: I am ready for the new thing, and the new thing holds many of the beautiful qualities of the old thing, but it is new and different. And this is the time for exiting.

But transitions are still hard. And sometimes exhausting. There was also a lot of work involved with this particular ending.

Related: I worked the whole weekend, and that sucked.

I try to not work weekends, and last weekend was nothing but work.

And this was not a good way to enter the week, so…. never doing that again. You heard it here first!

Oh, iguanas. Why must you be so iguana-like?

This week had giant piles of iguana and doom, except without the doom.

But definitely iguanas. Or things that were not iguanas but I feared that they were, and so I kind of accidentally turned them into iguanas.

Anxious about a meeting.

The meeting actually went brilliantly, but I had to work through a lot of my own crap to get to the point of being ready for it.

Lots of preparing for the voyage, which was lovely and important. But I got to see what I’m afraid of, and that wasn’t always pretty.

A very tiny misunderstanding.

It got sorted out quickly, but in the moment when it happened… so painful.

Ugh buying clothes is the worst. For me!

So I went out to get clothes for the Director (who is a version of slightly future me).

Gaaaaaaaaaaah. I am so disastrously bad at this.

I never know what to do. Or what anyone is saying.

And it reminds me of my first semester of university in Tel Aviv when I took a course on archaeology and didn’t understand half the class because guess what there are a ridiculous number of words for types of pots.

So of course people at shops always want to know if you prefer a skinny-leg something-something or a slouchy wocka wocka or a boyfriend-style foo-foo-foo, and I DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT.

And then I feel stupid and lost. It’s horrible.

Also why have shops been full of ruffled things for the past however many years? When will it stop?!

I generally tend to self-identify as kind of a low-to-medium femme (maybe even someone who could pass as high femme under duress?), but really I would rather walk around in my underwear than be covered in ruffles and frilly bits.

Although my Partner-in-Crime lent me her sweater so I could look like a grown-up at a meeting, and it had ruffles and I was the cutest grown-up ever, so possibly I need to be less harsh in my anti-ruffle stance.

Anyway, feh. Clothes-buying. I just want to have them magically appear in my closet and skip the whole process.

The good stuff

I got four incredibly hard things done on Friday and Saturday.

Things that I wasn’t able to do over the past several weeks, even though they were really taking up a lot of space in my mind.

It felt so good to have that piece finished.

Coming to a decision about something that had been stuck.

I know what I want now.

And I’m okay with wanting it. That feels great.

Bryan!

Remember when I put out a very personal ad post asking for Long, Slow & Deep? And Gaye sent it to me!

This week was the week of doing yoga with Bryan in my living room.

And it was exactly, exactly, exactly what I needed.

Actually, there was lots of yoga this week. Paul-style non-sucky yoga. Some psoas-intensity with Jill. And of course old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.

Massive progress on the Wish Room.

My much-neglected home office now has lovely periwinkle walls.

And lots and lots of cushions.

Progress!

Congruence. Tiny, baby steps count. For a lot.

I threw things out.

Moved them around.

Change. It’s time.

Many steps closer to the director.

There was an outrageously fruitful meeting with our magical and aptly-named realtor Hope.

I noticed some apologetic shoulder-shruggy appeasement patterns from then that were getting in the way, and this helped me rewrite a letter to make it much more sovereign and in present time.

And now the Director has something to wear. Also a new wallet. Plus her winter boots arrived.

She is closer! it’s all closer!

The boots. Ohmylord the boots.

Guess how many women were in the bathroom on pub night? Guess how many asked me where I got my boots? Yes, it is the same number.

Seriously I cannot even describe how amazing — and Director-like! — the new boots are. The ones that I have been trying to work up the courage to get for her since August.

They’re here. They’re incredible. And I’m not sharing pictures yet because I can’t bear the thought of anyone else ever having them. Sorry.

Getting HELP with the clothing thing.

My friend Rebecca does not find clothing-buying traumatic, but thinks it’s fun. Yet again I am reminded of that familiar piece of Paul-Grilley-truth: people vary!

Anyway, Rebecca is the best. Rebecca took me out on a shopping excursion.

And this was marvelous because she translated for me and told me what to try on and knew all my sizes and was right about everything. Everything.

Plus I knew she was enjoying herself and not suffering along with me.

Also I discovered that it’s actually fun to get clothes for the Director, because my monsters actually want me to be investing in her (if anything, they’re upset about how I don’t respect her enough, even though of course they’re still against the purchasing of clothing for regular me).

Another lovely thing to discover: the Director has fabulously strong opinions. So everything is a clear yes or no. This is great, because when I get stuff for myself, the whole process always feels so doubt-filled and unsure.

Triple-yay.

Saved by the OOD.

Every time I hit a wall this week, the OOD made a new door.

The walk-through.

We did a more formal walk-through of the new Playground space.

With a giant entourage. Me, the First Mate, Partner-in-Crime, Hope the realtor-of-love, architect, plumber, electrician.

And some significantly-more-invisible friends.

It felt really good.

I know a lot more now about how this is going to work, and I’m excited!

A thing I’d thought was going to be crappy turned out to be fine.

That’s all I want to say about that, but yay.

(Also many thanks to Robin for giving me the word egregore, which is such a more beautiful and efficient way to describe something that generally takes me several paragraphs to sum up.)

End of an era.

After three years of running my Kitchen Table program, it came time for deconstruction. As in: taking apart the old and letting the new patterns come into form.

It was time. I was ready. And it feels right.

Also this meant that I had TWO EXTRA HOURS EVERY DAY THIS WEEK!!! Sorry that I’m shouting. It was a really big deal. And way, way, way less of people’s stuff being projected into my space.

I feel the same way I did when I first went on email sabbatical three years ago: Everything is different now.

And also: Who knew there was so much space?

Sweet sweet sleep.

No waking up at 3am this week. Except once.

HUZZAH!

I did it.

My imaginary personal trainer took me through her hardest workout, threatening-promising to break me in half.

And I made it. Bruce Wayne is proud. It was an awesome moment.

Rally starts on Monday!

There is nothing in the entire world that I like better than Rally (Rally!), and we are about to set off on that crazy gorgeous hilarious voyage again.

I can’t wait to find out what’s going to happen there.

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

• A letter from future me to me on my birthday, and now I’m almost there again.
• You don’t need to take the leap. (May, 2009)
• This one about planning without planning — it’s important.
• Also: we don’t need to be big. People forget this.
• Preparing for the arrival of a thing you really want.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band:

Subterranean Power Grab

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. I can always tell when people have the monster coloring book (and manual!) by the way they self-destuckify as their stuff comes up. It’s a combination of graciousness, curiosity and permission that is absolutely amazing to watch. I recommend this.
2. The whisper-brunch is happening for October’s Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage! (password: haulaway). I still need to put up the Over-the-Moonials from last year. Though it’s probably going to be full before I get around to that.

That’s it for me …

And of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments if you feel like it.

Yes? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

We let people have their own experience, which means that we’re supportive and kind, and we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

Your internal culture is more important than your thing.

By “thing”, I mean: Whatever it is that you do, or want to do, or think you should be able to tell people that you do.

Your internal culture is more important than your thing because your thing will change.

But the culture will hold itself.

Culture. Holds. Itself.

And the more time you spend learning about the qualities, the superpowers, the Book of You and all the other elements of your internal and external worlds, the stronger, more radiant and more sustainable that culture will be.

Postscripts.

1. You don’t need to have a thing.
2. See also: ten myths about biggification.
3. In fact, it is often *better* to not have a thing. I recommend it! Unless, of course, you’re tortured by having to get something very specific out into the world. In which case, maybe that’s your thing. Awesome.
4. I don’t have a thing. I do have an approach. And a strong culture that I’ve been developing over the past six-seven years. And spaces, both physical and online. But I don’t define what I do.
5. Speaking of things you don’t need to do or have… I also think you can skip having to take a leap or (tfu tfu tfu) face your fear, both of which are highly overrated.
6. Yay, Scanners! Everyone should read Barbara Sher’s Refuse to Choose.
7. This internet world is full of expert biggifiers who are deeply invested in the idea that you need to have a thing and to decide already. And to name it and define it. That tells you something about their culture. About their world, not about yours.
8. Everything that comes up for you around this theme is a pattern. And all patterns contain information about how to bring in a new pattern.

The commenting blanket fort.

Usual comment zen applies. We make this a safe space.

We do that by agreeing that each person here takes loving ownership for his/her experience. We meet our questions and pain with love. We make room for each other. And we don’t tell each other what to do or how to feel. We play. We process. Sometimes we also call silent retreat, and that’s always okay too.

Kisses.

I do a lot of entry and exit. Setting things up.

Also preparing for the voyage. Or preparing in general. And then doing a little Revue (with high kicks!) when it’s over, because I don’t like to review things but I like taking stock.

Sometimes I’m convinced there’s no time to enter and exit experiences.

But that’s pretty much always the time gremlins talking.

So we do the short version. And sometimes even the shortest version.

The short version for entry looks like this:

What do I want to feel? And what do I need?

And I usually direct the those questions towards slightly wiser me.

Notes about this practice!

You’ll know if you’ve encountered a monster who’s answering the questions for you.

You’ll know because the answers won’t be nice. Like this:

“What do you need? You need to stop being so lazy. Or maybe you could also stop being such a whiny little pain in the ass. That would be good too. What are you wasting your time for? Just do it!”

And you’ll know if you’ve encountered a sad, scared version of you and not slightly wiser you if the answer you get is really stressful. Like this:

“What do I need? I need EVERYTHING TO [insert stream of creative cursing in Arabic] WORK FOR A CHANGE, aaaaaaargh!”

So. The fuzzball monsters are allowed to have their opinions. And the sad, scared selves get to feel safe. Always. Safety first!

But you’re not asking them. You’re asking the part of you who knows.

This can take practice. Give it time. There’s time.

Okay. Back to the practice. Examples! From yesterday.

Examples of short-version entry…

Dance class.

What do I want to feel? Tough, competent, graceful, grounded, present.

And what do I need? Conscious breathing. And the superpower of knowing when I need to take breaks, and trusting that information.

Breakfast.

What do I want to feel? Joy and nourishment, intentional caring for myself..

And what do I need? Want what you want. It’s important.

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What do I want to feel? Capable. Strong. Centered..

And what do I need? Use your force field. Plan without planning. Do the alignment exercise. It’s okay to take extra time to do an OOD because that will give you useful information for later. Also: this is a fractal flower!

Mini marathon-training.

What do I want to feel? Release.

And what do I need? Tissues. A pillow. Put the sign on the door so no one disturbs you.

Going to the bathroom.

What do I want to feel? The symbolic power of process: I am letting go of whatever my body is done with.

And what do I need? To remember that running off to pee is not a break. It’s not taking me away from my work of self-inquiry and it’s not separate from my life. It’s another way that I take care of myself.

The short version for EXIT.

Exit looks like this:

What worked? What might I try next time?

Examples of short-version exit…

Dance class.

What worked? Smiling! Music! Knowing that my body is my home and this is where I live.

What might I try next time? Coming a few minutes earlier to get a better spot.

Breakfast.

What worked? Doing entry!.

What might I try next time? Leave the pretty glass for the Strengthening Elixir out on the counter so we don’t forget. Maybe that glass needs a home?

A work thing that I don’t want to do.

What worked? Ohmygod doing the OOD helped so much!.

What might I try next time? I think I’d do it exactly like that! But maybe with a costume?

Mini marathon-training.

What worked? Putting on a nine minute song and knowing how long it would be..

What might I try next time? Turning off the sound on the phone.

Going to the bathroom.

What worked? That reminder that this is part of what I do, not separate from it.

What might I try next time? Naming the superpowers.

The even SHORTER version.

Entry: One quality. Example: Courage! And then: May it be received with love.

(I do this every time I press pooblish on a blog post. Or when I have a snack. Or when I go for a walk.)

Exit: One quality. Example: Support! And then: Thank you, experience.

And the SHORTEST version.

The shortest version involves knowing that everything is a door.

Including the experience you are about to enter, as well as the entry and the exit.

Entry: Hello, Door.

Exit: Goodbye, Door.

It’s all shorthand. The Hello includes all of the aspects of hello, without stating them. The Goodbye contains all the magic of endings.

Playing. And the commenting blanket fort.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.

The way this works is that we all agree to take loving ownership for our experience. And we create a safe environment by not giving unsolicited advice or telling each other how to feel.

Ways to play. So many! Because play is infinite possibility.

You could make up your own ways to enter and exit. No need to use mine. Or you can play with how you might find tiny ways to enter and exit. Or things in your day that could use mini entries and exits.

Or we could make sweet loving wishes for the parts of us who think this is way too much work.

And give our internal scientists the task of finding out how doing entry and exit changes our experience.

What I’m calling on: Receptivity, intelligence, curiosity and flow.

May it be received with love.

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Thing 1: a word for the practice of making things congruent

Here’s what I want:

To invent or discover a word or metaphor that describes the thing I’m working on the most right now:

Bringing things in my life into a greater state of CONGRUENCE.

Ideally this would be a verb, but it could also be a descriptive phrase or even an image or a person. In the way that Bruce Wayne is my stand-in both for prosperity and for the state of intense dedication to the physical (agility, gracefulness, power, stability, strength, determination and endurance).

Ways this could work:

I could ask for help from metaphor mouse, speaking of reluctant superheroes.

I can map it out.

Do some Shiva Nata on it to see what the patterns are.

Ask Bruce Wayne what he’d call it.

I’ll play with…

I think I’d like to interview Barrington. And also the Director (the me-who-is-coming).

It would be interesting to see what they know about this, and maybe that would give me a direction.

Thing 2: the week of Congruencing!

Here’s what I want:

Okay, so I don’t have my word or metaphor yet, but whatever it’s going to be called, that’s what I want to be doing all week.

Ways this could work:

Maybe a list of things that need to come into congruence.

I can also use my list of Things I am Done With.

For example:

• Not having a place to put a certain type of thing.
• The bag of Back and Forth.
• Yoga coming after work.
• Answering questions with anything other than a heart-sigh.

And then I can play, Rally-style.

I’ll play with…

Patience. Permission. Exploring without attachment to what I think I need to find.

I think it’s time for some stone skippings.

Some old Turkish lady yoga.

And lots of entry and exit. This is another form of preparing for the voyage, isn’t it.

That feels better.

Thing 3: Speaking of things that I am done with….

Here’s what I want:

Doors that are closed need to stay closed. Not to be approached and not be knocked on. This station is closed!

This is showing up in several ways right now, most of them symbolic. Also there are ways in which I am still knocking on some doors that are not doors for me any more, and I’m looking at that too.

Anyway, there’s this thing with random strangers knocking on the door to the Playground while I’m in yoga or meditation.

Because they apparently want to know how to get to the bathrooms. Or because they’re supposedly confusing my center with another business, despite the GIANT sign that announces: The Destuckification Playground!

And there’s this other thing where people try to log into one of my online programs. They can’t, of course, because there’s no way for them to get in without our system having given them a password. But when we close out each year, we always find about eighty names of people who have tried to log-in. Even though the entry page states that this is a closed, private community.

The fact that both of these things are scratching at the door of my mind right now (see? doors, it’s all doors here) shows me that this is my stuff.

So I’m going to investigate that. And I want better systems, better boundaries, better ways of making it clear that some doors are not for being knocked on.

Ways this could work:

Talking to slightly future me and figuring out what she knows about this.

Flailing on it with Shiva Nata.

Inventing ridiculous signs and then using that as a starting point for play.

I’ll play with…

Noticing all the places of entry and exit.

Stopping to pause (paws!).

Closing places I have left open.

Thing 4: the new assumption.

Here’s what I want:

To intentionally, playfully and steadily operate under the assumption that everything is good!

And to find out how things are good. In what way are they good?

Ways this could work:

I can ask:

“How does this thing that doesn’t appear to be good actually contain elements of good? And how can I use this to my advantage?”

If I’m in resistance because a certain situation is clearly full of not-good, I can try to find the useful.

If I can’t find the useful, I can still find out what I’m learning through encountering this now.

I’ll play with…

What if I’m wrong about everything I’m currently assuming?

What if this new assumption holds some unexpected treasure?

What if I don’t have to believe in the new assumption in order to receive benefits from experimenting with it?

What if everything that is against me is an illusion? Because Orna said it is, and Orna has never been wrong about anything.

Thing 5: ease-filled happy signing of the lease.

Here’s what I want:

Okay, this one might have to become an OOD, because I suspect that this is not all that I want.

I want to sign the lease on the new Playground space, but what I really want is to feel supported and excited in every part of this adventure.

And there are certain things that are potential dealbreakers, and I need those things to go smoothly. Or to resolve themselves in ways that I haven’t thought of yet.

But mainly I want to feel joyful and elated, because this is a giant gorgeous symbol of giant and gorgeous progress on my giant and gorgeous vision. I am whoah-struck! So let’s have more of that please.

Ways this could work:

I think breaking out an OOD, and working through the whole process and destuckifying is important.

Especially the aspect of making peace with being a grown-up.

And taking apart some of my old patterns of being apologetic and wanting to accommodate out of fear, habit or guilt….when actually what is necessary in this situation is radiating strength and establishing clear, beautiful, loving boundaries.

I’ll play with…

Man, this is a big ask with a lot of disparate elements.

I think I want to focus on figuring out what I want and need.

This relates to several asks from previous weeks that have to do with trusting my instincts. Hand-on-heart sigh for me-from-then.

It all comes back to wanting the wanting.

Thing 6: sleep, again.

Here’s what I want:

So I’ve graduated from waking up in the middle of the night and feeling miserable to waking up in the middle of the night and feeling peaceful. And then falling back asleep.

But I’m ready to go through the next door:

Deep peaceful uninterrupted slumber.

Ways this could work:

Congruence. Putting more of these small changes into effect.

Morning rituals. Evening rituals.

Trust.

Talking to all the different parts of me.

I’ll play with…

Listening. Curiosity. Sweetness.

Thing 7: enthusiasm!

Here’s what I want:

I am about to send out the announcement about the Floating Playground.

And to celebrate the way I would with a real Enthusiastic: where we all exclaim over puppies! And how cute the puppies are!

Ways this could work:

Tuning into my own enthusiasm.

Filling up on the superpowers and the qualities.

Showing you guys the link to the puppies page, which is also a door to what’s next.

I’ll play with…

Hand-on-heart sigh for my desire for Enthusiasm.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Those were some big asks. I wanted comfort and healing for a broken heart. And I didn’t think that would work, but I got it.

I wanted sleeps, and through the magic of hypnosis and herbs I am sleeping. More, at least.

Then I wanted to not care so much (or at all) about that thing. And while I still care about it, not weighing on me as much as before. I kind of think it’s all going to be okay.

Then better structures for RAWR Mondays! Feeling good about that.

And good wishes for Eclipse. I saw her but forgot to ask. So I’ll keep wishing!

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of ritual and self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

I am inordinately pleased about week ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY in a row.

That’s because past-me (hi, sweetie!) from a hundred chickens or so decided to create a blueprint for chickening.

And, as a joke, she named the blueprint template thing Friday Chicken #180. Because that seemed like a million years away.

So each week I pull out the blueprint and save it as the chicken of the week and fill in my hard and my good. And I change the number to the correct one and add a title (which is the hardest part of chickening).

But guess what? We’re here. Chicken #180. And I didn’t have to update the number. Though maybe now I’ll change the blueprint to 280.

The hard stuff

OHMYGOD EVERYTHING.

This week was full of some incredibly challenging moments for me.

There were fits and tantrums. Many of them.

And lots of tears.

And some shaking of fists.

I got mad. And I don’t get mad very often but yes. This was worth getting mad over.

Monday night.

Monday night was the TWENTY FOURTH night in a row of not-sleep.

I mean, there is sleep. But with waking up every hour and with nightmares and with not falling back asleep.

And I was doing all the things that work but they weren’t working, and this was a new situation, and it was torture and I was done.

Nonfunctioning because of the tiredness emergency.

I got to really experience what it’s like when you cannot do.

And when you cannot not do.

Because all of it is one awful horrible fog of doom.

Nothing gets done.

It can’t.

Not when you’re so disconnected.

Nothing is working.

Normally when everything hurts, I run away to my uncle in the woods and rest up.

But this time that didn’t work. It always works!

And a bunch of other things that always work didn’t work. That’s because everything is changing. And transitions are hard. And I’m still discovering what the new things are.

And dancing, which also always helps, didn’t help because it turns out that when I’m crazy-malfunctioning-tired, my body won’t dance either.

I was sadface mouse about all of this and so much more.

Not being able to get things done because of the stupid card thing.

So two weeks ago (as you may remember from Chickens past), our business credit card was compromised.

And this was the week it was supposed to arrive.

Bills, expenses, orders, merchant payments, it all needed to happen this week and we didn’t have the card.

Rawr! Rawr! Rawr!

So many crappy things this week! So many! Rawr!

The endless recushioning and substicushioning.

Forcibly being substicushioned is my new phrase for this situation that I cannot stand which kept repeating itself this week.

The this-is-the-example situation: I bought a giant expensive red cushion but then it turned out they’d given me the brown one.

Which was fine because the brown looked great in my office, but I still felt frustrated: we’d agreed on red, they wrote down red, we said red at the storeroom, I watched the woman write it down on the form. So how come brown.

We agreed that the our lease on the new Playground space would begin March 1st and then the start date was pushed back by two months with no recognition, apologies or consideration for how this impacts our plans. The new date is also fine. Starting in May gives me more time to plan.

But I also feel frustrated and anxious because there’s no acknowledgement of the fact that this is something other than what was emphatically agreed upon at our last meeting.

We agreed I was paying for red! We clearly said March 1st! I don’t need a a red cushion. I don’t need the date moved back to March. But I feel upset. I want to be ASKED for input: “Hey, is it okay if we give you brown because we’re out of red? Hey, we want to move the lease two months so how would you feel about that?”

So I’m calling that being substicushioned. Unauthorized recushioning! And it happened like, ten different times this week in various formats. And I am really in my stuff about this, and feeling vulnerable. So that’s what I’ll be processing over the weekend and next week.

* Thank you, Shannon, for the word.

It’s time for a new sherriff in town.

I didn’t want that job but someone’s going to have to take it. And it will be me if no one else does. We’ll see what happens this week.

The short version is that the situation with the bully in our building has come to a head.

I invest endless time, love and money in the physical home of my company, and I am done.

Blowing! Off! Steam!

Also, this entire situation would be way easier to deal with were I not completely exhausted. So there’s that too.

Uncertainty.

When is the new Playground space going to be available? When will I be able to tell you guys about the new things? Is it even possible for people to take ownership for their stuff and their experience? It works at the physical Playground but can it work online?

These are the questions that I have been working through over this long, hard, exhausting, fascinating week.

The good stuff

Toozday.

On Tozday everything crashed and then it couldn’t crash anymore.

I broke down and got homeopathic stuff even though I have Ludicrous Fear Popcorn about this and try to avoid it.

The wonderful Shannon (graduate of Crossing the Line — she can tell you how amazing it was!) came by the Playground and did a magical hypnosis session for me.

Toozday night I finally slept. And then Wednesday night I really slept. The whole! Night! Through!

Sleeps! Sleeps!

SLEEP IS THE BEST.

Sleep, you guys. I highly recommend it. Everything is better when it is there.

Everything is okay.

Yes, it is.

It just is.

I learned that this week and I knew it in my bones, and this was wonderful.

Everything is okay!

And: everything that is against me is an illusion.

I finally wrote the thing I had been putting off writing.

I wanted to tell my Kitchen Table about what I’ve learned about leadership over the past three years of running the program.

But then I couldn’t.

And finally I could. It worked. Relief and joy!

We got the lease. Joyful jumping for the new space!

We got the lease. There is going to be a new beautiful Playground in addition to the current one.

Even though the date was pushed back by two months without anyone asking how we felt about that, we got the lease.

We still haven’t signed, and are working through a couple small details, but this feels so much closer to the new gigantic space and the new things we’ll be doing there.

This is the best!

Friends.

Wonderful friends.

Especially Briana and Shannon and the gentleman.

Things that keep me sane.

Dance class. Once I’d slept. YAY DANCE.

Yoga. Breathing. Shiva Nata.

Hiding. Nesting. Reflecting.

Stretching. Crying.

Conversations and negotiations with walls and monsters.

RAWR-ing. Stone skipping.

All of it.

My wish room.

The useful part about discovering all the things I am DONE with this week was that I realized it is time to take care of my wish room.

That’s my home office that I pretty much always avoid.

So I bought a throne for it. Not really a throne. It has a brown cushion instead of a red cushion, but it is still a kick-ass throne.

And the gentleman took down the shelves and is going to repaint!

Again, everything is okay.

Just when I start to worry that maybe it isn’t, I am reminded by all the ways that it is.

It is only lack of sleep that makes it seem like it isn’t .

But look, all the things I need are right here. Just where they always were.

I can trip over them or I can make homes for them. So I’m making homes.

Roller derby workshop!

Taught another Shiva Nata workshop for the team I sponsor last night.

It was awesome. We were gearing up for the season opener.

Unrelenting domination! (That was position 1:6 for you shivanauts out there).

Anyway, fun! We wore costumes. We flailed it up. Epiphanies, they are happening.

I have a polar bear and I don’t know why!

The cutest polar bear ever. Schmoo! Adorable.

Apparently whilst I was in the throes of Extreme Sleep Deprivation (which I still am, retroactively, but it was way worse then), I announced to the world one morning — very emphatically — that I needed a polar bear.

The gentleman got me one. It is the softest and the snuggliest and has the most intense expression. Fierce, but also curious.

I am not sure why I thought I needed a polar bear. To be honest, I don’t even really remember declaring to anyone who would listen that having one was necessary and vital to my life.

But this makes me happy. Polar bear. MINE. His name is Darlington Sloth. He likes to be scratched under his right ear. And I also call him Paws for short. Paws!

I am learning the things I need to learn.

Part of what made this past week so challenging was not knowing what the useful part was.

But now I know. Got it. Onto the next piece.

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

Tabstravaganza! Or: what’s Havi been up to with all those open Firefox tabs?

I didn’t read much this week but I want to share with you Pauline’s beautiful piece about the greatest pain.

What a courageous and accurate description:

Oh my goodness the pain.
Sometimes very, very quiet but burning and then explosive and needing kettle drums, full orchestra and choir, requiem to acknowledge the sheer bursting massive scale of it.
I thought walking in the stormy winds this week would be powerful enough to make some impression on it, but there’s been nothing strong enough to match it. Storms rage outside me and it rages within me.
And my goodness that is good stuff.
To let the pain meet its match in force, in music, and see that it’s allowed to be as strong as it is.
See that I’m not frightened of it, that it won’t kill me, that it’s going to be allowed full expression and need not be less than it is for fear of my not being able to bear it.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

• 74 ways to push the reset button.
• When you run into some PTSD.
• And again again again, how to not be in wheel-grinding mode, which I could link to every single week.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is possibly-probably related to Ludicrous Fear Popcorn…

They’re called:

Terrified of Pi

And that pretty much sums it up.

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. You’ll need the Art of Embarking if you want to join the Floating Playground. Or any of the things we’ll be doing in 2012.
2. I’ll be sending out the announcement about the Floating Playground really soon, to everyone on the Havi’s Announcing a Thing list (you can sign up on the events page).

I think that’s everything. If not, I’ll add stuff to the Very Personal Ads over the weekend.

That’s it for me …

And of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments if you feel like it.

Yes? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

We let people have their own experience, which means that we’re supportive and kind, and we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s okay if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

The hardest part when things aren’t working is waiting for the new things to come in.

The ones that do work.

That is to say:

The new patterns, the new customs and rituals, the new techniques, the new approach.

(If you’re a shivanaut, you’re intimately familiar with this process. Engaging with Shiva Nata means you’re constantly deconstructing patterns and replacing them with the new ones. It’s really hard!)

But often there’s a gap. And inside of this gap you’re hyper aware of all the things that are not working, and still not clear on what form the new pattern is going to take.

That’s where CONGRUENCE comes in.

Part of what’s happening in this type of period of frustration (and I go through this fairly often because I do a lot of internal processing) is this:

It’s not just that you’re aware of the things that aren’t working. You’re also seeing evidence all around you that points to the extreme severity of This Is Not Working.

And you’re extra-sensitive to everything that doesn’t feel congruent. Everything that is not in line with the new way can feel jarring or pokey.

Extreme cognitive dissonance! It’s just one guy!

You’re noticing all the places in your life that are not harmonious with the way you actually want to feel.

One of the things that I have found helpful — for me! — in these times of transition-ey process-ey aaaaah-I-hate-everything-in-my-life is this:

Making tiny little symbolic things more congruent. And getting rid of tiny little symbolic incongruencies.

Tiny things.

It could be just one thing.

Or it could be just ten things.

Or however many you like.

The way I do it is by wandering around Hoppy House or the Playground or my office aka the pirate queen quarters, looking for what doesn’t fit.

And I make a REALLY BIG DEAL out of the symbolic value of releasing incongruence.
Translation: moving things around! Throwing things out!

What this looked like yesterday.

Me:

“Listen up, WORLD! I am DONE with things! I am done with things that are incongruent! Done with things that are unsovereign! Done with things that are not in present time!

“Or any combination of the above!

“And I am READY for things that are congruent, harmonious, sovereign and fabulous.”

And then I remembered again:

This is the pain and dissonance of my current growth period — right now I’m hyper aware of all the things that are not harmonious with how I need them to be.

So of course I feel like crap.

As for my panicked “oh no the old things aren’t working, where are the new ones?”, we know how this works. The new tools will come as I get rid of those things which are not congruent.

This happens after every Rally (Rally!). It happened after Crossing the Line (password: haulaway), and we totally prepared for it there because we knew it was coming. This is a normal thing that can happens when you cycle through a big internal change.

And that’s good because things need to move and change. That’s part of being alive. It’s when they don’t change (or I try to not allow them to change) … then they stop working and become stagnant.

There’s even a whole page about this in the Book of Havi.

So find out what you’re done with and be done with it.

What am I done with? Let’s find out…

I am done with this green visor on the giant duck that lives on top of the red wall at the Playground! I don’t know why. A few months ago I thought it was delight-filled and sweet. But now it’s wrong. Gone!

I am done with this list of iguanas!

I am done with not taking care of myself!

I am done with holding onto presents that I don’t want!

I am done with the Lost & Found box!

I am done with this door not closing properly!

I am done with all of these things.

And I am ready to discover what the harmonious and congruent version of these things might look like / sound like / feel like.

So there were tiny changes.

The visor got put on a stuffed animal (who loved it!).

I decided that none of the iguanas actually needed me, they were just reminders of things I don’t like, so I tossed the list.

A bunch of presents at Hoppy House got recycled and regifted.

The First Mate was charged with getting the door fixed.

I still don’t know what to do with the Lost & Found box but it is being moved to a new place so I don’t have to look at it while I’m working. Maybe I’ll write a Very Personal Ad for this one.

I still don’t know what the new way is yet.

But there are fewer barriers to it coming in.

So I don’t have to know. I just have to keep making room for it.

That’s what I did yesterday.

Today I feel more like myself than I have in a while.

I feel less frustrated about the gap between knowing what I don’t want and remembering what I need.

This is what I’m focusing on right now:

Trusting that the new patterns are coming in.

Welcoming them by removing tiny, symbolic things that remind me of what isn’t working, and by making space.

Play with me! And the commenting blanket fort.

You are welcome to search for tiny, symbolic mini-changes in your space or in your day.

You can leave a loving hand-on-heart sigh for the shared experience of those gap times.

You can use the tools and explore and discover. You can color some monsters. It helps. It’s crazy, but it helps.

You can throw things you are done with in a giant magical recycling elevator-shaft that I am establishing here. Into the completion pot!

Or drop off some gwishes.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.

And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.

Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers, and everyone who reads.

Oh, January. You are my hard month.

And I have been avoiding welcoming you.

But here we are, me and January.

So in the spirit of conscious entry and preparing for the voyage, I am here with you, January. And more than that: I recognize that you are a door.

I’m saying hello.

Reorienting myself to your door-ness, re-establishing my sense of suchness, reconfiguring my wants, and re-ordering my relationship with you. Let’s do this.

What I want from this experience of January.

I want us to have a new relationship, January.

I want to release all the expectations and all the rules about how we have to be with each other.

To release pain and grief from Januaries past.

To recognize and remember that you are not them. And now is not then.

The qualities of my new relationship with January.

The same sixteen:

Spaciousness and Sovereignty.
Presence and Possibility.
Radiance and Receptivity.
Effortlessness and Efficiency.
Adaptability and Agility.
Desire and Deconstruction.
Boldness and Beauty.
Congruence and Creativity.

Also, did you notice that each pairing has a yin and a yang side, or a ha and a tha side, if I may revert to my natural language of yoga?

And they can switch sides, if and when they need to…

Another thing. The gentleman said the other day that my super-duper power (which, apparently, is like a superpower but even better) is SYNTHESIS.

I hadn’t thought of that but it feels true in my belly, in my hands and in my feet. So I’ll take some of that too.

What I need from this January.

Gentleness.

From January and towards January.

To let go of all the things I think I am responsible for, but am not actually responsible for.

To shed and to replenish.

To fill up on what I know.

To find the new things now that the old ones are no longer working.

To make peace with my secret room.

What I am planting for this January.

Quiet.

Curiosity.

Pleasure.

Patience.

Radiance.

Shelter.

What I look forward to in this January.

Finally-finally-finally the start of roller derby season! GNR is going to do so much damage at the season opener that it’s just ridiculous. And I’ve been working with the team — lots of Shiva Nata, agility training and strengthening force fields.

And of course, Rally (Rally!). It’s going to be amazing.

Mostly I’m not looking forward though. I’m looking inward. I’m hibernating. And that isn’t so much about excitement and yaying as it is about stretching, yawning, whimpering, crying and releasing, but that is what is needed right now.

For my body this January.

It’s hard to say because right now I am so very tired.

But: I will keep taking the Bruce Wayne strengthening elixir.

And doing my marathon trainings (shhh, they’re relaxing!).

And going to dance class. And flailing the flail.

Hot baths. Warm tea. Walks when I can walk. Sleeps when I need sleeps.

Slightly future me says:

You’re doing all the right things. Keep doing them.

Stay away from unsovereign situations. Stay away from other people’s expectations, real or perceived. Make a cocoon for this growth period.

And use your costumes.

What January could be like.

It could be a nest.

It could be new.

It could hold me.

It could be a reminder of all the things that have changed since last January.

It could be space to rewrite old perceptions.

It could be comforting.

It could be kind. You think it can’t, but it can. That last sentence was slightly future me again!

I am throwing all of this into the pot.

Play with me? And comment zen for today.

You are welcome to write your own Hello, January.

Or drop off some gwishes.

Or write January a letter. Or give it a new name.

(If you like, you can peek at what we’ve played with here in other months — in July and August and September and October and November and December.)

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.

And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.

That is all. Much love and happy January.

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Oh, Sunday!

One day I will be able to wholeheartedly be okay with this practice of noticing what I want and need in each and any moment.

Right now I get to seed that by practicing here on Sundays, and today I am really happy for Sunday.

Because I am exhausted. And there are wants.

Thing 1: comfort and healing for a broken heart.

Here’s what I want:

To release this pain of the Great Misunderstanding.

To trust — in the most intimate and deep ways — that I’m doing the right things to care for myself. And to care for me-from-then.

To undo old internal agreements about owing people things that I do not in fact owe them and couldn’t give even if I’d wanted to.

Ways this could work:

This is going to need some monster conversations. And some coloring in the coloring book.

(I did this last week and was flabbergasted by how much just the coloring part helps by itself. Didn’t even need to use the actual materials.)

Time. Space. Paying attention.

Taking this seriously. Not a side dish. To really put my attention here, with love.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

I’ll play with…

Watching. Naming. Crying.

I’ll take this to RAWR Monday.

And to the pool.

Lots of heart-humming. And dancing it out. Shiva Nata has helped me through more than one heart-hurt. And it will help me through this one.

Thing 2: commence Operation Sleep Is Really Important Dammit

Here’s what I want:

SLEEPS!

We’re declaring an emergency situation.

Ways this could work:

The usual tricks.

• Consulting the Book of Me and the dammit lists.
• Left-nostril breathing.
• More old Turkish lady yoga and Paul’s yin practice.
• Moving the Bruce Wayne Strengthening Elixir ritual to the morning.
• Doing the sleep invocation.
• Mini marathon-training (shhhhh this is a proxy for something relaxing) for ten minutes before bed.
• More yoga nidra.
• Treating this situation as if the director was the one who needed sleep right now.
• Being the detective.
• See the 74 ways to hit the reset button post.
• GOOMB!

I’ll play with…

Acknowledging the legitimacy. This is big change we’re going through right now. It makes sense that processing is very process-ey.

Conscious entry. Preparing for the voyage, with the voyage being sleep.

Talking to the me who knows how to do this. She knows how the pure land works.

Lots of revue. With dancing.

Thing 3: not caring so much (or at all?) about that thing

Here’s what I want:

Right now there’s a situation that I am letting weigh on me.

It’s a sovereignty challenge, and a bit of a growth period.

I want to investigate this and find out what will help me release some of this old-stuck attachment to a certain result.

Ways this could work:

Talking to slightly future me.

Doing some stone skippings.

Entry and exit. Asking wise, compassionate, loving questions.

I’ll play with…

Taking it to the Playground. Doing some reflectings.

Thing 4: RAWR Mondays!

Here’s what I want:

RAWR Mondays is the name of my new Monday practice, something I’ve been doing with my partner-in-crime.

RAWR stands for Roaring And Whimpering Rendezvous.

It’s a tradition that started because I’d sail off on a mysterious project and then get spend my week working on aaaaaaargh things that suck.

So now we just schedule that in. In a celebratory way. Mondays! Mondays we roar and whimper, and then we’re ready for the week.

And when other gunk shows up we can put it in the box for next Monday, unless it’s urgent. But usually it isn’t because we’ve done so much processing on Monday.

Anyway, the thing I have learned so far about RAWR Mondays is that the Rawring requires a very safe, stable container. With lots of comfort built in.

So that’s what I’m working on.

Ways this could work:

Building the day carefully. With sweet loving things to come before and after.

What kind of sweet loving things?

Immersion in the hot pools.

Lots and lots of tea.

GOOMB! (Get. Out. Of. My. Bar.)

Mini marathon trainings. tee hee!.

Hiding in a dark booth, wearing sunglasses and eating warm comforting food.

I’ll play with…

Ridiculous amounts of entry and exit.

Lots of thinking about what I might want and need.

Setting it up.

Thing 5: good wishes for Eclipse!

Here’s what I want:

Eclipse has a job interview tomorrow. Let’s all wish her wonderful wishes!

Ways this could work:

I’m planting it here.

I’ll play with…

Wishing the wishes. Throwing it into the pot.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted to set things up for next-day me. This worked really well actually. I spent most of the week at my uncle’s in the woods (still there!). I left my notebook out and some tea for morning-me who likes to journal. I planted things for later. It felt good.

Then I wanted to do reflectings (lalalala not collage at all!) with scissors. About my twelve wishes for the year. And I’ve been doing that.

I wanted to enter the exiting, and YES. Yes yes yes. Hugely relieved about this.

Next I asked for a new relationship with January, and I’m working on that.

And I wanted new clothes for the incoming director, who is me.

This hasn’t happened yet because I’m out in the woods wearing the same thing every day. But I did try on footwear for her, and was pleased to find that she has delightfully strong opinions. So progress.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox