I have written a lot about conscious entry and how preparing for the voyage changes the experience of whatever it is that you are entering.

The main problem with doing this is: monsters! And the main problem monsters have with entry is that they think it takes forever.

So then we call on the internal scientists, who say: “Yes, it does take time. And! Research has shown that time for entry is totally worth it because then everything that happens after is better.”

But it also doesn’t have to take time. We can also make entry impossibly brief. Under three minutes. Sometimes even as little as three seconds.

There’s always a shorter version, right?

Why this is on my mind. Background!

I’ve been thinking about this a lot this week because we’re about to open Stompopolis to new member mice who are not necessarily familiar with the culture.

Stompopolis comes with very fun (optional, of course) entry-and-exit ritual which involves sitting inside of a compass inside of a blanket fort named George!

But really, anything can be an entry or exit ritual. Anything can be turned into an entry or exit ritual. Anything conscious, playful, curious and awake can be a ritual.

So what I really want to tell people is: Try things.

I mean, it really doesn’t matter what you do. Find out what you like. Experiment. The main thing is: Hey! I’m taking a moment to mark the transition and to be present for it. It’s an experiment.

Like this. Tiny mini-rituals that I just came up with.

Off the top of my head.

Thirty one of them, as it turns out.

  1. Walk in a circle.
  2. Or walk backwards. And widdershins!
  3. Touch something that is physically stable. The floor. The wall. Lean into it.
  4. Touch you: rub your feet or pat your arms.
  5. Draw a word or a symbol on the palm of your hand with your finger.
  6. Pat the ground seven times.
  7. Invoke a superpower.
  8. Or a quality.
  9. Tune into Grounded Enthusiasm, which is one of the secret magical things that lives at Stompopolis.
  10. Ask a question. Or four questions. Use a question to skip a stone. How do I want to feel? What do I need? What would help?
  11. Squeeze a butt-monster for good luck.
  12. Put on an invisible hat.
  13. Open an invisible door.
  14. Say: This is a door.
  15. Count backwards slowly from 27 to 0.
  16. Take eleven long slow deep breaths.
  17. Write a spell on your arm with your finger.
  18. Name five things around you.
  19. Describe what is happening. This is me, in a transition. This is me, not knowing what to do. This is me, talking to myself.
  20. Blow some bubbles. Real or imaginary.
  21. Imagine your force field filling up with clarity and focus. Or whatever you want to feel in your space.
  22. Draw a salamander. Badly!
  23. Pretend to be a penguin riding a skateboard.
  24. Stand on your tiptoes eight times.
  25. Jump up and down sixteen times.
  26. Pretend to be a spy.
  27. Whisper a magic word.
  28. Make a wish. Write it down.
  29. Think of something you’re feeling good about. This is not to negate the real and legitimate pain about the hard things, just making sure the good gets attention too.
  30. Write a three-sentence love letter to slightly future you: maybe you in two hours or you in two weeks.
  31. Say: I am here now. I want to be here now.

Play with me.

You can invent tiny rituals! You can do something — anything — and decide that it is now a tiny ritual too.

You can also rename the word “ritual” and call it something else.

We could even have a ritual for making-up-rituals. Like whispering WHOOOSH or twirling in a circle. I don’t know.

As always: we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. And we all get to figure out what works for us and drop the rest. Apply the People Vary principle as needed.

And, speaking of rituals, I am sending love to you and to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

Qualities of entry and exit include, for me:
Presence. Curiosity. Wonder. Lightness. Passage. Courage. Flexibility. Adaptability. Freedom. Spaciousness. Trust. Play. Grounding. Possibility. 

The Fluent Self