Neurotransmitters Can Be Gorgeous, Too!

Yes, I actually found jewelry for Brain Geeks.  Who knew?

Scientist-turned-artist Raven Hannah find her inspiration in neuroscience, casts it in sterling, and offers the resulting loveliness  up to the world.

Even if you aren’t a brain geek, I think you’ll find the jewelry both beautiful and meaningful.   Seriously, what could be more romantic than giving your true love a pendant in the shape of dopamine? (stimulated when we feel love).  You can also go with  more traditional dating choices of chocolate, red wine  (in the form of resveratrol) or woo that hot barista behind the StarBucks counter with a gift of gold plated caffeine ear rings.   If your crush is  on the more manly type, you can choose from tie-tacks, lapel links or more masculine necklaces inspired by testosterone (I’m On A Horse!) or capascin (hawtness!)

Most of her pieces are affordable  (between $40-$100 ) putting them in the nice-gift price range.  But me?  I’m holding out for the priciest items in her collection, the  star-stuff bracelet and endorphine choker,  available on Raven’s Etsy site.  Pure Gorgeousness.

My New True Love Web-App!

For years, I’ve been on a quest for the perfect Tori-Organizing-Tool.

I’ve found, adopted and abandoned many systems along the way.  IWantSandy, of course, left me, and I still haven’t gotten over it *sniffle*  Joe’s Goals and SnootyMonkey’s BubbleTimer both still rock,  but I was always trying to make them do things they weren’t really meant to do.   Behance’s online  Action Method woo-ed me with visual coolness and flexibility, but it’s more team-oriented than solo, and I found that I spent all my time organizing my imaginary team, rather than actioning.

But with TeuxDeux, I’ve found organizational true love.  I can see myself settling down here, painting white picket fences and conceiving all sorts of glorious action plans. And no, it’s not JUST because of their fabulous spelling quirks (even though Tori Deaux’s Big Teux Deux DOES sound pretty awesome).

I’m liking  TeuxDeux  because it’s visually simple and uncluttered.  It’s tactile.  It’s intuitive.  It’s well designed.  There’s no learning curve,  looking at it doesn’t make my brain short out, and I’m not tempted to spend the next three years setting it up.

Plus, it’s free.  For-evah.

But I know, you’re commitment phobic.  So go on and check out their video below, before you sign up and agree to that wallet-breaking monthly charge of… you know… free.

TeuxDeux Demo from TeuxDeux on Vimeo.

(I swear, they named it JUST for me)
(Oh – and I still love Joe’s Goals, Bubble-Timer and Behance’s Action Method, each for different things. So go check them out too.)

Move over Moleskine,
It’s the Inspiration Notepad!

This  just simply rocks.  Really, I mean it.   I want this so badly I’m probably going to pony up the Paypal and international shipping fees sometime this month.

What exactly IS the Inspiration Pad? It’s  32 pages of ruled note paper, with a twist.  The ruled lines are everything but ruled – they wander across the pages in all sorts of wacky patterns… waves, mazes, twists, zigzags, etc.

I just find the idea of literally writing in circles so charming.

The company is based in Brussels, so with the fees and shipping, actually getting my hands on one of these babies will run about $21 US (assuming I’ve done all the conversions right).    But what price, inspiration?

Just imagine writing this years NaNoWriMo novel on THIS bit of wonderfulness!

So go order one Order one.  Or twelve. Or twenty!  Heck,  ask if you can be their U.S based distributor!

Ok, that’s it for now.

I’ve brought you Needful Pretty, Organization, and Inspiration.  What else could you ask for? Oh.  What’s that you say? More frequent posting?  I’m working on it, I’m working on it!  Meanwhile, Have you discovered  any needful things of your own, lately?

__________________________________

MindTweak: “How could there be any question of acquiring or possessing,
when the one thing needful for a man is to become — to be at last,
and to die in the fullness of his being.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

___________________________________

Y esterday, I told you about Havi’s Pirate Queen expeditions, and then I  announced that I wanted to go in search of a metaphor of my very own.

Something to help me better get a handle on this business stuff.  Something that  made it fun, not scary-and-over-whelming and HUGE.

And (as I’m sure you’ve already figured out) I found that  something: A Circus!   Not JUST a circus, mind you…  but a full-fledged old-fashioned three-ring circus and traveling carnie show, complete with believe-it-or-not sideshows, animal acts, a midway, tons of prizes, games and all the cotton candy you’ll never eat.

How did I find this glorious, stupendous circus of circuses, you ask?

Well, I did it a little differently than laid out in Havi’s methods for metaphors.   She usually starts by “unpacking” (analyzing, to the rest of us) whatever it is she wants to metaphorize.  I didn’t want to bother with all of that, because I’m lazy.   That seemed too uncomfortable.  Instead, I decided to unpack her Pirate Queen metaphor, and look at why it was so appealing to me.

Here’s what turned up:

• The pirate queen directs the ship
• There’s a pirate crew, people who help.
• There’s a pirate log, treasure maps, telescopes. Fun TOOLS!
• Rudders and ships wheels and navigation stuff… direction!
• Sails and oars for energy and motion
• Pirates are unconventional, they live by their own rules, do their own thing in their own time.
• Strong defenses: Cannons, guns, swords and other sharp pokey things.
• The pirate idea of success is …  self-determined. Or something.
• Although pirates  interact with the land-lubbing world through their contact with ports, they don’t LIVE there.
• Pirates steal things, so I could stop feeling guilty about borrowing good  ideas from other people and places.
• Pirates are free spirited.
• They travel.
• The idea of keeping a captains log, treasure maps, and swabbing the deck makes maintenance seem so much more appealing.
• The sea is sort of meditative.
• There’s fun. Costumes. Jewels.  Hats!

Somehow, a key seemed to be that  I wanted an excuse to be unconventional, self-determined, living within a code, but outside of the widely accepted codes of society.   I started to think  about  jobs and careers and things that are LIKE  a pirate, but not pirates.  Characters that live outside of the norms of society.  But with glitter.

Cattle rustler? Train robber?  No, I don’t want the focus to be on the stealing. ( I don’t REALLY steal, I just feel guilty when I feel inspired by someone else’s ideas. I’m weird that way. )

Hermit?  Hermit Crab?  No, no.  Too crustacean-ish. Mountain Top Sage or Yogi? Monk?  Beatnick?   Street beggar?  Gypsy/Tinker/Traveler?  No, No, No…

Then Metaphor Mouse shot himself out of a cannon and through a flaming hoop.  “Ohhhh!!” I said.  

So I wrote to Metaphor Mouse, for further clarification.

March 17, 2010
Dearest, Darling Metaphor Mouse…

What do you think about running away to join the circus/carnival?
Huh Huh Huh?

No, not YOU.. me! That could be SERIOUSLY fun.  Especially if it wasn’t just any old circus, but one of the old timey carnie type deals, with traveling side shows and freaks and stuff.

Instead of being a Pirate Queen, I’m could learn to be a Ring Master ! With a whip! And a top hat! And then, instead of having a business or a blog, I’ll run a three ring circus.  And those off beat projects I sometimes get caught up in? Side-Shows. I mean, seriously.  What could be better?

• The circus is quirky, sparkly, weird, fascinating, and just a little bit scary. Just how I like things.
• Circus folk move within normal society, but outside of it’s ordinary standards.  Which is the way I like it, too.
• The circus/carnival has a lot of different roles to play and hats to wear: the ring master, the sideshow barker, the freaks and the geeks, the pretty girl with the ponies and poodles. There are animal trainers and animal helpers, jugglers, magicians, fortune tellers, meditating yogis, and clowns!
• There’s even a funhouse I can use to shake up people’s perceptions. How perfect is THAT for me?
• I can set up the show, tear it down, light up the midway, go for rides, walk tight ropes, avoid run ins with the law.  We can have Big Finale numbers, and intermissions.  There are different caravan cars, cages and boxcars for each act, making it seem somehow organized.  It fits with my existing plate-spinning metaphor.  There’s jumping through hoops!  Walking tight ropes!  Popcorn, cracker jacks and cotton candy!   Souvenier shops instead of webstores.  I can produce some seriously cool posters, there are countless costumes, and… best of all?

PARADES!  We get to have PARADES!

Yay for Parades! With Elephants!
It’s all so wonderfully over the top, isn’t it?
Really, what do you think?

Love and Carnival Kisses,
Tori

I haven’t heard back from the Mouse yet, so I’ll just assume all is well. The Circus (especially the old fashioned, carnival kind) really is a bit of perfection, isn’t it? Perpetual childhood, organized chaos and tricksters all wrapped up in sequins.  How could anything be better?

Oh, yes, I know.  Even circuses and carnie shows have to do some form of record keeping and scheduling.  But maybe its more like an elephant counting peanuts.  Or maybe I’ll play at being some narrow minded accountant who love-love-loves numbers, and is freaked out by all the weirdness of the circus.

Or wait!!!   I can be Numbero! Numbero, the idiot-savant who can’t remember his own name, but crunches numbers  for breakfast! Just add milk and extra exclamation points.

Really, there is so much potential in this for me it’s too much to write about.  There’s good-hearted sleight of hand, well-intentioned trickery and illusion, a whole lot of hoopla, ballyhoo and just flat sensationalism.  My mind is still reeling with ideas.

But maybe best of all, for right now? I can do this slowly.  One act, one booth, one elephant at a time.

So that’s it.

I’m going to run away to join the circus.  But don’t worry, I’ll send you postcards.  Or at least blog posts.

I’ll keep you updated as I learn the role of Ring Master, gather my cast of characters and put together my very own show of shows.

Anyone know where I can get a Big Top, cheap?

Yes, yes…  I know it’s St. Patty’s day, not April Fools day.  And no, I didn’t get totally confused by the switch to Daylight Savings Time last weekend.   It will all make more sense by the time I’m done explaining…  at least, I think it will.

But meanwhile?  I’m running off to join the circus.

This whole business is related to the renovations going on in the background of the site,  and it fits with my “Places, Everything!” theme for the year, too.  But mostly, it’s about the Metaphor Mouse stuff that Havi Brooks has been writing so much about over the past few weeks.   You can ignore the mouse part for now, if you like, and just focus on understanding the metaphor business.  After all, the mouse is… just a metaphor.

See, Havi’s brain seems to get stuck on things, a whole lot like mine does.  We both trip over random  ickiness  associated with various words – words like coach, and marketing, and — well, you get the idea.  Her way around it is to find metaphors, and substitute other words … words that (at least to her) mean the same thing, but reframe the idea in a less icky way.  For instance, instead of marketing her business and products, she “biggifies” them.   Think that’s wacky? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!

This past summer, Havi declared that she doesn’t even run a  business; she runs a pirate ship.

Yepp.  Metaphor Mouse helped her discover that she’s secretly a pirate queen.

The people who work with/for her? They aren’t personal assistants, bookkeepers,  or web masters,  but First Mates,  Navigators, and  she even has a Monkey!  Rather than doing business plans and accounting, she gets to chart courses, keep a Captain’s Log, and make treasure maps.

Oh, and no more team meetings.  Her crew has drunken pirate council, instead.

How cool is that?  I mean, who wouldn’t want to be a pirate queen, collecting treasures and wearing cool hats while coursing bravely (and drunkenly!) through uncharted waters? It’s just the most awesome metaphor I’d ever heard of.

I wanted to steal her metaphor SO badly!

I even figured out that I didn’t need to feel guilty about stealing it, because stealing is what pirates do.  And I brazenly told her (in her comments) that I was going to do it!

There’s just one problem.

I don’t have a pirate ship.

So although the pirate metaphor is the most awesome (or is that aarrrgh-some?) thing I could imagine…  I couldn’t see it working for me, not in the long run.

Oh, sure, I tried dressing up as a pirate queen…  but it felt like wearing someone else’s clothes.

Of course, that’s because I was wearing someone else’s clothes.
Someone else’s metaphor, anyway.

I don’t really like wearing other people’s stuff.  It doesn’t fit right. So today, I set out to see if I could coax Havi’s Metaphor Mouse into finding me a metaphor of my very own.

Want to know what happened, and how I’ve ended up joining the circus?
Check out part two, coming two-morrow!

(Yes, you have to wait.  I know. I’m evil, aren’t I?)

With spring and Easter coming up soon, it seems appropriate, doesn’t it? So don’t give up on me yet…   we’ll be all hopey-changey around here very soon!

This morning, I was exercising my secret sin… browsing political blogs.  (Shameful, I know…  please don’t spread it around.) An enigmatic,  just-posted entry on DailyKos caught my eye: ” A short diary, but a question on life.”

The author (with an intriguing nick of BFSkinner) asked rather eloquently  what we  would do if diagnosed with a disease that would inevitably rob us of our minds? A disease that would steal our very self, a disease that can be treated to slow but not stop the progression, a disease which, in the end, will win.   How would we approach living the tale of Flowers for Algernon – the story of a mouse and a man who, having had their intelligence artificially enhanced, then watch that intelligence fade, along with their life?

Predictably, the question stirred me.  I mean, heck…  that book probably helped shape my fascination with improving and maintaining the human brain.   Instead of contributing a quick comment and moving on, I decided to write here, instead.

Because there’s just no way I can explore this briefly.

Here’s what I hope I would do:

Reminders.
And Buying Time
(as an investment)

I‘d post reminders everywhere that buying time with treatment is important.   That it’s not just buying time for me, but for family, for friends, for anyone whose life I might touch in that time.   That it’s buying time for neuroscience to make some more of it’s frantic leaps forward, for medicine to find ever more ways of extending that time, and, potentially, finding other treatments and cures.

I would  post reminders of those exceptional people who have only been diagnosed with diseases like advanced Alzheimer’s after their deaths — and yet who showed no symptoms while alive. Reminders of artists whose creativity was freed as their dementia progressed.   Reminders that neuroscience still knows too little about many of these diseases to accurately predict much of anything about them.

And I’d try to make sure Those-Who-Cared had frequent reminders of these things, too.  Maybe through a scrapbook of collected information. Maybe through a book-book.  Maybe through a series of time-delayed emails, or post cards.  I don’t know.

But I’d buy time to figure that out.

And I’d Write.
And Think.
And Paint.
And Document.

Because that’s what I do. It’s a big part of what makes me, me.  And it’s something that I could keep doing even as other parts of “me” fell away.

Partially because I’d like to imagine that my documentation, my thoughts, my transparency would somehow contribute to a deeper understanding and even appreciation of the condition -  for medical specialists, for other patients, for loved ones of other patients.

And partially because I’d hope that a certain  poignant beauty could be seen in the results.   If my suffering and loss could somehow impact the world, that thought is a comfort.

I’d Prepare.

Prepare for the worst. Plan for future care, for funerals, make arrangements for living wills.  Prepare friends and family emotionally, financially, prepare my home so I could stay in it as long as possible, prepare mementos and bits of history that might serve as bridges back home, even on days when my brain might falter.

I’d Indulge.

Maybe that would mean taking the world by the horns, and doing all of those “someday” things that frighten or intimidate me.  Maybe it would mean luxuriating, being a harbor seal, or just curling up in my own mind and treasuring the time spent with myself.

It would almost certainly involve strawberries, shortbread, and chocolate.

I’d Apply…

Everything I’ve learned about brain health, neuroplasticity, cognitive reserves, and building up the brain so that it was in the best shape I could get it in.   That means exercise, both mental and physical. It means reducing stress.  It means eating well, and mindfully.  It means sleeping, companionship, hydration, and staying engaged.

And I’d experiment – I’d work to strengthen those parts of my mind I most treasure… not just memory and spatial ability, but personality, compassion, empathy.  I’d struggle to learn more about the parts of the brain, and explore how the parts I most value might be best exercised and built up.  I’d probably adopt a discipline of Buddhist meditation towards that end, as well as what follows…

Even considering…

My (admittedly layman’s) grasp of modern neuroscience,  how the thoughts shape the brain,  the brain shapes the thought, and the intricately intertwined nature of self and synapse, I’m not convinced that dementia, Alzheimer’s, or strokes erase the self.

I think about Josephine, and my great-grandmother (both gems who I discussed Living with Alzheimer’s, A Spark Of Self and Humanity, on Brain Fitness for Seniors) and I think that it’s the interface between self and the world that is damaged… not the self itself.

The photo’s of Josephine’s art installations touched me so deeply that looking back over them today, I’m more inclined than ever to believe that the self is more than just wiring connections, programming, bits and bytes.  She’s passed on now, and her loving daughter Annie is grieving – but the photos still speak of Josephine’s reality, even as her disease progressed and robbed her of so much else.

You can view many of them here, on Annie’s blog, under the category Art of Alzheimer’s.   Be gentle if you visit, please.

So All The While…

I‘d be unable to help but ponder  the concept of self, and the loss of it, and who I am and will be.   I’d probably approach it as the contemplation on dismembering identity that I’m so fond of.  And I’d consider the importance of expression of self, and how much that does, or doesn’t matter.

And I’m sure I’d be philosophical, recognizing that, if things progress as  expected, I would eventually have the answer to ” Am I my brain, or something more?” … even if in the end I might not understand that answer.

Somehow, I find that very humorous.
I’m a sick puppy.

But Sick or Not..

I hope that like Algernon’s friend Charlie, I can leave flowers for those who go before me.   Maybe in the form of words. Maybe in images.  Maybe just in thoughts.

But I hope, and believe, they will bloom.

What would *YOU* do?

It all started yesterday, while reading about relaxation lists and such on (you guessed it) Havi’s site. (yes, I’m a shameless fan girl. shu’p already.)

That’s when I realized I don’t have much that I can seriously trust to relax me anymore.

Oh, I used to have things-for-destressing, but these days, they all seem to have a wacky level of tension or anxiety or shoulds attached to them.

So while stressing out mildly over that realization, I wandered over to that OTHER blog I write (you know, the one for the brain-training company Dakim, the one I don’t talk about nearly enough here) and got to work on the latest post over there, which turned out to be about yawning and its benefits to the brain.

See, as it turns out?  Yawning has a pretty darn profound effect on the ol’ grey matter.  It increases blood flow, cools the brain,  increases alertness, improves  focus, regulates sleep cycles, kicks off a whole cocktail of important neuro-chemicals, and… get this… reduces stress and anxiety.

In other words? It’s relaxing.

So, now I have one relaxing thing on my list.  Cool, huh?  But yawning has some other really interesting effects on the brain -  at least according to Andrew Newberg, who wrote this nifty essay about it.

I found Newberg’s “Yawn” essay  via TheMindfulist, a minimalist new blog with simple daily mindfulness prompts(you should totally check it out).  If it seems odd that yawning would be encouraged as part of a practice of mindfulness…  you haven’t read Newberg’s essay yet.

You really should read it, because it’s fascinating, but I’ll go ahead and summarize the mindfulness part anyway.

See, yawning triggers activity in parts of the brain related to social awareness and empathy, which helps explain why yawning is contagious. One of those parts, the precuneus (found in the  folds of the parietal lobes, if you happen to be staring at a brain map) seems to be crucial to consciousness, self reflection, self awareness, memory retrieval, and so on.  It’s also been linked to mirror-neurons, which fits with the whole social awareness, empathy and contagious yawning stuff.

And guess what else activates this empathy-producing, consciousness raising part of the brain? Yogic breathing, of the sort found in many meditations.  Elsewhere, I found references to breathing in through the nose  (another standard part of many meditations) having a  yawn-like cooling effect on the brain..

It’s all starting to make sense, isn’t it?

This same empathic, self-awareness-raising  part of the brain also seems to be one of the hardest hit areas by age-related cognitive declines, diseases, and even ADD…  Which (again) makes sense, considering research done on long term meditators,   and their reduced risks of cognitive decline,  not to mention their very un-ADD-like relentless ability to stay focused.

Newberg is such a big fan of yawning that he recommends we all start developing a discipline of doing it intentionally.

He suggests that we yawn when we want to focus, relax, prepare for a physical or mental challenge, as a part of meditation, prayer, physical workouts, before a test, when we’re waking up or going to sleep.

And it’s easy to do; a fake yawn or two (or five) will trigger the automatic mirroring effect, and you’ll be yawning for real in no time.

So.  I’m going to be trying a little experiment over the next week or so… a little ritualized yawning experiment.  I may or may not report on it, because, well… you know how I can be.

If anyone is interested in joining me, I’d love to have the company, and a *reason* to report back!

Meanwhile Back At The Comment Trough…

H ow many times did you yawn while reading this post?
Come on…. ‘fess up!

I avoided the obligatory End-of-the-Year-Self-Assessment post, the Impossible Resolutions post, and even the Big-Plans-For-This-Next-Year post.  And yet somehow? Here I am, writing about a THEME for the New Year.

I didn’t even know years could HAVE a theme.  But it seems they do, that I have one, and that this year’s theme is “Places, Everyone!”

“Places, Everyone!?”
What the heck does that even mean?

Actually, it makes a good bit of sense if you’re inside of my head.  But since you aren’t…

Yelling “Places, Everyone!” is just just my wacky way of making a New Year’s resolution about getting organized, without making myself get organized, and without making a resolution.

See, I have a thing about organization.  I love the supplies, the tools, the concepts, and the ideas.

I just never use them.

The actual get-busy-with-it process of organizing makes my brain short out.

And yet, the goal is, somehow, to wind up with everything having a place, and being in it.  In other words, to get organized without the pain and intimidation factor of GETTING ORGANIZED.

Why is this such a big deal?  Well…

My brain isn’t structured like a normal person’s.  Trust me on this one. My thoughts have wills of their own, and they like to jump around and in a dozen simultaneous directions.

The idea of forcing them into boxes and files? Yeah… it doesn’t work.  I’ve tried.  They jump out of their designated places, try to file themselves by hair color, turn the boxes into building blocks, take off their labels and use them for collage projects.

Seriously.  They do all of that and more.  If I could TIVO what goes on in my head, you’d see what I mean.

But anyway.

Instead of forcing them into an organizational system that they’re going to rebel against, I’m just yelling out “Places, Everyone!” and wait for them to fall into line.

Its my way of telling all of those thoughts and ideas and needs and functions and STUFF to find a place, dammit, and get in it.

It’s not nearly as wacky as it sounds, I swear.

It’s just a little trick to turn the organizational process over to the subconscious.   All I need to do, consciously, is to remember  to yell out “Places, Everyone!” under my breath every so often (which is pretty easy, because there is SO much in my life that’s out of place). With any luck, the phrase will become embedded in my mental circuitry.

And when I start to put something down haphazardly, shove it into a corner, or notice something just laying around, staring balefully at me, I’ll hear “Places, Everyone!” in my head, and naturally remember to put whatever-it-is away.

And maybe more importantly, I’ll slowly figure out exactly where “Away” is.

It could work, right?

By putting the emphasis on the Things finding their own Places, I take the pressure off of myself about finding places FOR them.

It’s all about making the Things in my life take responsibility for themselves.

Ok, you’re right,  it IS as wacky as it sounds.

Wack-factor aside,  the core concept is about finding places and space for all of the things and stuff in my life, and putting the stuff there.  That includes stuff-stuff, like clothes and paperwork and countertop appliances and craft supplies and that old carburetor that Mr.Tweak insists he’s going to turn into a lamp.  (eww)  It also includes:

• People-stuff: friends, clients, family, community.
• Mental stuff, like moods, energy, ideas, neuroses.
• Semi-tangible stuff like finances, income, and debt.
• Scheduling-stuff, like to-do lists and action items.

So “Everyone” really means “Everything”.  I actually tried  yelling “Places, every Thing!” but the Things ignored me – but when I yell out “Places, Everyone!” they line up and salute.

It’s kind of cute.

In a perverse, wacky way.

And yes, it’s weird, but anthromorphing  things helps me to relate to them better and stop stressing. I quit asking why a long time ago -  I never got much more of an answer, though the China Hutch did roll its eyes at me once.

I do have some theories about why this anthromorphing thing works,  and they aren’t woo filled theories, either.

This isn’t the place for explaining that, though.

See, I’m learning already!

Here’s some of the actual actionable stuff:

1.
Whenever I touch something, move it, shift it, finish it, or scoot it over, repeat “Places, Everyone!”. It’s a way of anchoring the whole idea in my head – the idea that Things need to *belong* somewhere.

2.
In order for every Thing to have a place, I need to Make Room.   It means cleaning closets, drawers, and shelves, shuffling and throwing out things, recycling and eBaying..  It means filing systems, paper shredders and maybe even calendars.

3.
If I can’t find or make a place for a Thing, that Thing needs to find a place with someone else.  No matter how wonderfully cool and full of potential the Thing is, it needs to find a home..

There. Not so tough, really, is it?  *cough* And yes, I promise to stop with the wacky capitalization now.

So. What do you think?

Are you amused? Inspired? Headed to the store in search of mousetraps?  And have you got a theme for 2010?

That’s one of the oft repeated sales pitches for the Holosync system, a set of binaural-beat brainwave entrainment CDs from Bill Harris’s CenterPointe Research Institute.  According to the rest of the sales material, it slices, it dices, enlightens and happifies, fixes you buttered toast, and offers you fresh squeezed orange juice.  Organic, I’m sure.

Ok, I made a lot of that up.

Still, the actual benefits claimed for Holosync are both pretty darn vague and pretty darn sensational.  CenterPointe’s head honcho has quite a rep for hard-core (and some would say obnoxious) marketing practices, so  vague and sensational are to be expected.  It’s a methodology that drives some people away, turns others into True Fans, and generally makes a heck of a lot of money in the process.

But back to that trashing your PR thing…

This past month, Bill Harris, made a mistake – a pretty surprising mistake for someone so widely recognized for his business & sales skills.

He (allegedly*!) tried to silence a blogger.

*pauses to let the gasps of shock die down*
I say allegedly, not because I actually doubt what happened, but because I don’t feel like risking any defamation lawsuits myself.  So I’m just reporting on what others allege is going on.  You see?

Now, those of you familiar with the blogosphere know that there’s one thing a big-wig, multi-millionaire or corporate type  never, ever wants to do…  it’s threaten bloggers with legal action after they criticize you.

It just never turns out well.

It doesn’t matter if you’re right.  It doesn’t matter if you have the money to pursue it until hell freezes over, and that the blogger will probably have to rely on pro-bono legal help.   It doesn’t matter if you eventually win the lawsuit, and make the blogger’s life miserable.

You will lose in the court of public opinion, because you’re not really dealing with the ONE small blogger, but the entire blogosphere.  See, threatening a lawsuit against a blogger is like, well…

It’s like pushing a big red button that releases a pack of rabid hounds.

A pack of rabid hounds that  races wildly around the countryside unchecked, braying about it at the top of their lungs until EVERYBODY knows.

It’s not pretty.  It’s very slobbery.  It’s wildly infectious.

And it’s very, very bad PR.

Once bloggers have the scent of blood, they tend to  spread the very material you wanted to suppress far and wide. It becomes “news”,  and passes through blogging networks, bookmarking sites, and Twitter.  It elevates the status and traffic of the accused blogger, guarantees that the damaging post in question will be reposted and archived on multiple sites,  discussed, Tweeted and debated into infinity.   The whole thing will rise in the search rankings of Google, meaning that even non-blog-readers who are looking for product info will stumble upon the controversy.

It’s a serious marketing fail.

And it makes you look like a bully.

Here’s how the button got pushed. Allegedly.

Over on BeyondGrowth,  Duff McDuffee has a habit of poking at personal development gurus with a big stick (something I’ve been known to do in my spare time, as well).  In November, Duff was poking at James Ray, the fellow whose Arizona sweat lodge went so tragically wrong, left three of his clients dead, and sent another 17 to the hospital.

Somewhere along the way, Duff  uncovered links between James Ray and Bill Harris of Holosync.  Now Duff and Bill had previously shared a few heated words here and there, and neither seemed fond of each other.   It’s totally understandable, really – I mean, after all, one of them is  a personal development guru, and the other one pokes at personal development gurus with a big stick. I wouldn’t expect them to form a mutual admiration society, you know?

So Duff writes a post specifically poking at Bill, filled with lots of criticisms and some pretty harsh words.  (The post just happens to quote me, by the way. Check it out if you’re curious.)

Apparently Bill didn’t like being poked at.

He didn’t like it one bit.  I understand that, I do.   I mean, Duff was wielding a very big, pokey stick.  I wouldn’t like it either.

And sure, Bill talks a lot about enlightenment and personal development and dealing with personal “shadows” (which, I gather, is pretty much just heavy baggage that makes you have knee-jerk angry and prejudicial reactions) and overcoming them but come on…

It was a REALLY BIG POINTY STICK!

Even the Dalai Lama would have slapped Duff around for it.  Ok, maybe not the Dalai Lama. He’d probably have just smiled and patted Duff on the head.

But you get my point.  Even if it’s not on a stick.

Anyway, here’s where Bill manages to trash his PR “at the touch of a button”; instead of opening a conversation with Duff, asking nicely, or even just refuting the information in Duff’s comment section or with a post of his own…   Bill (allegedly!) threatens Duff with a defamation lawsuit.

The story (allegedly!) goes something like this:

Bill has his lawyers draft a Cease & Desist letter, threatening a defamation lawsuit unless the pointy-post is removed, the claims prominently retracted,  and Duff promises to never, ever again say bad things about Bill, CenterPointe, or it’s products.

Never-EVER!

Chilling, isn’t it?

But Bill’s lawyers accidentally sent it to the wrong address, so it didn’t have the desired chilling effect.  (Oops.) Bill himself did manage to email Duff about the matter,  informing him of the pending litigation and just how it would ruin his life if he didn’t comply.

You can see the full text of THAT letter here, about midway through this post on SaltyDroid.  And I must say, the tone is not at all what I’d expect from a personal development guru.  Er…  quick correction: It’s not what I’d *HOPE* for from a personal development guru.   It is, however, pretty much what I expect from one these days.

Now, to me, that letter it feels very threatening.  But maybe it would seem different if I were a personal development guru with an enlightened and elevated perspective.  Maybe I would see it as a kind, simple explanatory letter urging caution.  Maybe Bill didn’t even write the letter, and it’s all a figment of someone’s overactive imagination. Allegedly!

Seriously…

The whole thing makes Harris looks like a bully.
Who can’t take criticism.
Which really isn’t very good for his image as a personal development leader.

So for all of you big-wig, multi-millionaire personal development gurus out there, just itching to throw your weight around by trying to silence your blogging critics?

Just don’t.

Before you push  auto-dial on your smartphone to reach your lawyers, before you push “send” in your email program…  take a time out.  Calm down.

Then open a line of communication.  Consider playing nice with the critic in question.   Recruit other bloggers to tell your side of the story.

Maybe you can even find bloggers with bigger sticks to be on your side.

And maybe, just maybe, you can keep from trashing your PR at the touch of a button.

As an added bonus, you won’t have to pay your lawyers to read through meandering posts from multiple bloggers like me, who are reporting on the whole slobbery mess for our own amusement.

(And yes, I know… none of the graphics lived up to the promise of the first one.  I ran out of inspiration. And IStock credits. Because some of us aren’t multi-millionaires)

(Oh, and here’s the previous post of mine that is quoted in the Ceased & Desisted post of Duff’s: Review Of The Holosync Demo Raises Ethics Questions.  Just in case you feel like reading it.)

Oh Ye of Little Faith!

Ahem.
As I was saying…

Brain-Savvy Blogger Seeks Helper Mice !!

Once Upon A Time…. I had a lot of Helper Mice.  They scurried around in both my inner and outer worlds, keeping me sane, helping me with projects, finding real world helpers, and generally offering support, reassurance, and nuggets of wisdom.   They lived in both my internal and external worlds — as both psychological projections and real world people, each one with it’s particular role in my life, together forming a supportive community web that kept me focused and connected, sane and productive.

I want that back, please.

I want to believe in and welcome those mental images that were so helpful, again.   I want them to be consistent, and meaningful.  And I want the sense of community and connection that has it’s own Helper Mouse vibe.

I want my mice back! Please come home. I miss you.

Here’s how it could work: You Internal-Projection-Type Mice could appear to me in dreams.   You’re good at that, the dream-thing.  And maybe I could actually remember the dreams, and notice the mice in them? That could definitely happen.

You Helper Mice could also show up in synchronicities, little things that  make me sit up and pay attention when something could be helpful.   I might be able to do a meditation or even a vision-journey-thing to find you, or let you find me, or however else it’s done these days.  I’m afraid I’m a bit out of touch with the newest Helper Mouse technology…  do you use Twitter, perhaps?

The Right Helper Mice are  welcome to take more tangible forms, to in the shape of human helpers, partners, project managers, assistants, or whatever role they’re comfortable in that might help me.    How could that happen?

• You might see this ad, and feel drawn to it.
• I might write a more specific personal ad seeking you, in the future.
• I might contact a previous “Mouse” and see if they’d be interested in re-starting a relationship.
• I might suddenly recognize appropriate mousey-roles for other people who are already in my life.

Here’s what I know won’t work:
(and what I will try my damnedest not to do)

• Trying to force people into Helper Mice roles they aren’t suited for.
• Trying to force the internal-type-mouse into  an artificial existence, through willpower, or ritual, or sheer needy-stubbornness.
• Trying to work with ill-suited giant, aggressive, bumbling and toothy mice that just wind up making things worse
• Letting people force their ideas of what is helpful on me, but really isn’t, at all.
• Allowing myself to be convinced that I don’t need help or that because I can do something myself, I SHOULD do it myself..

I want to remember these wont-works, because they’ve helped get me into this mess, and they’ve helped keep me stuck in the mess.

And here’s my commitment:

Dear Helper Mice,
If you should find your way back into my life, in any role or capacity you see fit, I will do my best to create a supportive and pleasant space for you.

I will work at building a relationship, at listening and communicating, and at the give and take that is involved in any relationship.

I’ll do my best to make it a good and beneficial connection for all involved, to my my own needs and expectations clear.

I’ll do my damnedest to make it profitable for all of us.

And while I can’t promise to believe in you 100% right off the bat, I can promise to give our relationship and projects more than a fighting chance to succeed.

How’s that for starters? I’d like to offer all the cheese you can eat, but I’m afraid that might be a bit out of the budget.  It’s certainly negotiable, though!

So what do you say, Helper Mice?

If you’re the right mice for me, please come home!  I miss you!

This concludes today’s Very Personal Ad.  And yes, I know it’s wacky. It’s meant to be.   If you’d like to reflect on the concept of personal ads or helper mice, ask a question about something I mentioned off-handedly in the process of writing, be a bit wacky or even post your own personal add, go for it!  Just do try and resist any urges to tell me how I could ask better, do better, be less crazy, etc.  In other words, no raining on my mousey parade!

Also, this whole thing is probably going to sound a bit wacky. I’ve tried to explain a bit of the nuttier parts so they sound less woo-filled, but, you know what? There’s only so much explaining you can do about Helper Mice.

So if you’re going to decide I’m stark raving mad, go ahead.   If you’d just like to know more about one of the concepts I’m touching on here, and why I don’t think it makes me crazier than a dormouse, well…  let me know in the comments and I’ll do my best to explain!  Now, on with the post proper, in a more appropriate and readable font-size.

Over on The Fluent Self, Havi Brooks (yes, I’ve been plugging her a lot. Get used to it. ) has been doing this thing she calls Very Personal Ads.

In Havi’s own words:

” The Very Personal Ads are a practice where we ask for something we want in order to get clarity on stuff and also to practice getting better at asking for things.”

So there you have it.  On her blog, Havi’s written ads for all kinds of things, including the perfect house, personal sovereignty, and clothes hangers . Most of the things, I believe, have indeed found her.  So far as I know, her partner (Selma the Duck) hasn’t written any ads, but others have …  submitting them in the comments of Fluent Self, on their own blogs, and, I suspect, on napkins and on bathroom walls all over the country.
Maybe even the world.  Really, it seems quite likely that Very Personal Ads ala Havi have become an international phenomenal thing.

So, how do these ads work?

It’d be easy to call it a magical practice, and go all spiritual guru on you, but it isn’t about that (even though it may seem magical, at times) It’s really a lot more about being aware of what you want in your life, looking at ways those things  could happen, and opening a door to those ways.

If it happens to be a magical door that you open, well, I didn’t make it up that way.  And I’m pretty sure Havi  didn’t either (though I’m not so sure about her partner, Selma. You’d have to ask her yourself). Because the whole thing works just fine from a psychological perspective, no woo required.

The practice of writing the ad encourages you to define what you want, consider ways it might happen, and how you would support it happening, staying in your life, etc.  And by treating it as a personal ad, you’re taking your wish-list out of the realm of a letter to Santa, and making room for a relationship with whatever-it-is.

And that means that if the ad works, you’ll probably be pretty happy with the result.

Pretty Cool, Huh?

B

ut Anyway. The point of all this rambling is my way of  introducing an actual *Very Personal Ad* of my very own.   And it isn’t at all my way of procrastinating about writing my own ad.  Nope, not one bit.

So here goes!

Brain-Savvy Blogger Seeks Helper Mice!!!

(The excess punctuation and underlining helps make it real.  Trust me on this one. )

What are helper mice, you ask? Well, they’re another Havi-ism, and I’m not exactly sure what she means by it, to be honest.     But I know what *I* mean by “Helper Mice” so let’s start there, shall we?

“Helper Mice” brings up images of all those helpful, scurrying and supportive creatures found in Disney films.     They gather up supplies, help you get dressed for the ball, find your lost dayplanner,  call the prince and tell him you’ll be a bit late for the date…. even bring you a key should you happen to find yourself locked in the tower.

And they seem to do all of this because it is their nature to scurry, to help, to fix things, and because they believe in Happily Ever After.  They probably *also* do it because of the food and occasional shiny bauble that fall their way, but I like to think of that as a sort of side-bonus.

T

hey’re sort of a non-corporal personal assistants on steroids, except that they may be real live people, too. Because as anyone who’s ever watched a Disney film knows,  Helper Mice aren’t always mice.  They’re sometimes birds, rats, squirrels, racoons, dwarves…   and really, who am I to say they should be in this form or that form?

So Helper Mice  can be pseudo-imaginary critters that I project images of in my head, or they can be real, tangible people, or they might be a mix of the two.  Back when I did the whole shamanism studies deal, I called them critters power animals, tutelary spirits, teachers and helper-spirits, but those terms have become so newagey-twisted I hate to use them anymore.

But Helper Mice? I like that.

A more normal person in more normal circumstances would probably run an add for a business partner, a personal assistant, or a project manager.  But I’m not normal, and pretty much no one is under normal circumstances these days.  Mind you, I’d be happy if the perfect someone fell into any of the above roles for me, and for BrainCamp, and maybe for this blog.

But I’d rather call them Helper Mice, because, well…  I just like it.  Ok, now that we have the definition out of the way…

W

here were we? Oh yeah…. We writing the actual very personal ad.  That would be good, huh?I’ll get that posted for you in just a few minutes, k?

You’ll be able to find it here:
Helper Mice Wanted: Part 2