Recognition.

Guess what? Things from then can still be painful, even if they are over.

They can still get to be painful.

Plop-thunk.

Permission to take my time in any situation I need to take more time in, without having to know why or how much, without the taking of time being perceived in any way as negative.

If, for example, I need to pace around the room thinking thoughts and more thoughts before I sit down to do [X], that is allowed.

Yes, even if it takes 45 minutes. Even if it doesn’t feel like entry, guess what, it can also be entry.

If I can’t write copy for a thing until I can again, that taking of the time is ALLOWED and even good. Take it!

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.

For me, the first question is always about how I can care for myself:

What can I do (or what needs to happen) right now so that I can feel safe, supported and sovereign?

And what usually comes out of that line of questioning is the recognition that not only do I need safety and stability, but so do my fears, monsters and walls:

Okay, what needs to happen for the Panicky Jitters to feel safe too?

So I want to say this:

If you’re in the place where you’re not yet willing/able to consider ways to ease into this practice, that is absolutely understandable.

I hear the pain. I see the pain. This pain is legitimate.

Just acknowledging how painful it is to think about this is enough of a practice.

It is a letter for Slightly Future You, but you can read it now.

It is a letter for a version of you, the one who will be there when you decide to maybe yes maybe yes yes yes yes go ahead and journey to the Playground.

The you who will set off on a Rally (Rally!). Or a Shivanautical Academy of Play training. Or another adventure entirely.

The point is: this is for you. Eventually.

Because I am more depleted now than when I set out to vacation
and I want to be cared for
and that job is mine
and I am not good at it
yet.

I am also setting up an impromptu daycare center in case you would like to deposit some project-monsters and old rules about how things supposedly have to be. We’ll be happy to entertain them while you sneak off to proxy something or play with something.

As always, we all have our stuff. We make room for other people to have their stuff. And as part of that, we don’t tell each other what to do, how to feel or how to be.

Lots of love!

So this fountain is seriously, outrageously beautiful.

It might be the best fountain I’ve ever seen.

There are flowers all around it.

And cool statues of unexpected things.

And sometimes on a sunny day you see adorable children running around in their underwear and splashing up a storm.

I loved the movie Memento, even though it was extremely not HSP-friendly.

And, interestingly, I also loved Fifty First Dates, even though “romantic comedy with Adam Sandler” does not sound like something I’d even agree to watch.

And I loved-loved-loved the short-lived and extremely brilliant television series called My Own Worst Enemy, about which I have no caveats at all. Watch it. It’s beautiful, intelligent, fascinating and completely mad.

All of these have one thing in common. Drew Barrymore! No. Kidding. Never mind. We’ll try again.