So over the weekend the Director told me that I needed a chrysalis. To hide in.

For three days and three nights.

And she was right. As she invariably is.

Her track record of being right is pretty stellar.

So I listened.

And then, from deep inside of the chrysalis (which turned out to be a very sexy hotel room), I listened some more.

What do you wish I knew about your mission?

That was one of the questions I asked the Director.

Hoping that she wouldn’t mind being interviewed.

Her mission is mysterious and puzzling to me at times. Her devotion to me and my happiness is unflagging. Her passions are deep and all-encompassing. Being near her is both a wild rush and indescribably calming at the same time.

I love the Director. I love her and I can’t wait to become her, and a good deal of the time I don’t understand her.

Not yet. So I asked.

Here is what the Director said:

My biggest wish is for you to be able to enjoy the fruits of the unique culture that you have created for others.

Look at what you have made.

You have given birth to an impossibly beautiful and exceptional world of permission, safety, delight, wonder, sanctuary, fun, creative play, acceptance, belonging, grace, silliness, power, trust, curious and loving exploration, magic.

But you do not partake of it. Not really and truly. Not to its depth.

You give it. You set it up. But for others.

You make rooms of amnesty for their questions and their pain. You make peaceful Refueling Stations for them to hide in and blanket forts for them to create in, but where is this world for you?

You were the one. You are the one person who really and truly knew how to dream up this magical world and then make it a living reality. You were the one who could give it a home.

And not just any home, but the best and craziest and most fabulously outlandish home ever.

You know the most about this particular kind of magical world of play and exploration and sanctuary because of how desperately you needed it to exist.

But you still give it away instead of living in it yourself.

You create cultures where it’s the norm that sovereign compassion is readily available for each person there but then sometimes you still allow yourself to be the exception. As if you’re saying that it’s still okay for other people to put their crap on you because you’re the one who’s strong enough to handle it.

Sweetie, this world you have made is for you.

The world and culture of magical permission, safety and play is for you.

I want you to live in it. To soak it up.

I want you to breathe it.

To be at home in it.

And for this to be the norm. Not an occasional blissful perk.

I see you buying presents for me, doing sweet things so that I will feel welcome, and that’s a lovely thought.

The thing is, I do feel welcome. Always. That’s just part of being the Director. I am welcome in my world.

It’s you who doesn’t realize yet that you’re welcome too.

I want you to do sweet things for you.

Not as a way of investing in the future. Well, yes, obviously it is investing in the future. But what I would really like to see is you investing in the future through investing in you-now.

And not just so that you’ll become me.

But because you-now are worthy of living in ways that are congruent and harmonious with the culture of the world you want to live in.

Like it or not, you are the Director.

You’re the director of an organization, the owner of a successful business, both online and a physical bricks-and-mortar space. You’re the CEO of a company that you built from nothing, a company that does amazing things in the world. You’re a creative, talented, unconventional, innovative woman in her mid-30s who knows how to make stuff happen. It is unbearable that you do not realize this.

What would happen if you acted like it, instead of pretending that there’s distance between you and this person that you already are?

I want the day to arrive…

I want the day to arrive when you want to act like it.

When you’re comfortable being gorgeous, fabulous, strong, courageous, successful, radiant, humming your happy hum.

End transmission.

And then she told me to look left.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

And I looked left, and saw the exact thing I needed to see.

She told me lots of things while I was in the chrysalis.

What to ask. Who to talk to.

Where to have a drink, and why it was important not to bring my notebook.

She introduced me to all the right people.

We did hours and hours of old Turkish lady yoga in the dark.

We whispered secrets and ate surprisingly delicious snacks. We turned our breath into vibrating light. We hummed the magical hum until it hummed down into our toes.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

Playing in the commenting blanket fort.

The Director is a version of slightly future me.

Sharing internal dialogue and internal process is an exquisitely vulnerable experience. Much like a tiny, sweet thing that is just coming into the world, it requires gentleness, protection and a peaceful environment.

If you would like to Enthuse with me about how I, as the Director, signed the lease for the new Playground space yesterday, that is very welcome. Or if you’d like to hum… :)

(We now have about 7500 square feet of incredible space for creative play, for Rallies and for exciting new ventures and adventures that are in the works).

If you would like to talk to slightly future you or hold internal investigations of your own, this is always a safe space to do that. As always, there is no need to do it out loud. Calling silent retreat is fine.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. So if your stuff comes up, own it. Create safe rooms for yourself.

We make this a loving space by giving people room to have their own experience, taking responsibility for our experience, and not giving advice.

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