December | 2013 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

Reverb13 prompt: “I am often surprised where I find peace, it is usually in the midst of chaos. In the midst of living, did you find moments to breathe? Were there moments that held you in the embrace of peace and quiet and pure contentment? Did these moments catch you by surprise or did you create the space for peace to find you?”

Every time Dexter and I played, or he cuddled next to me, or we hung out in the back yard, or we went for a walk, or we went to his physical therapy appointments which he loved, or he got in bed and slept with us, the way he looked at me, so happy and in love, every time he sighed — all of the times this past year when he was still with us and he wasn’t suffering.

When I sleep in, and Sam gets up to eat breakfast and go potty, but then gets back in bed with me, runs down the hallway to get there as fast as he can.

Putting yogurt, granola, almonds, and raspberries in a bowl in the morning when I’m hungry. Crunchy, sweet, creamy, satisfying.

Standing in the kitchen, listening to the radio and leaning into Eric, holding each other, Sam’s head pushed between our legs, his tail wagging.

Taking a long walk along the river in the morning, with Eric and Sam or just Sam, camera in my pocket, those moments when the sun is rising and it’s so beautiful I want to tell the whole world to wake up, hurry and get out here, you’ve got to see this, but I let them sleep, and I sink into the quiet, standing still, looking up at the sky, amazed and grateful.

Shavasana after a really good yoga class.

The moments lost in creating something, when time no longer measures anything.

Project Reverb prompt: “Wear it out | What piece of clothing did you wear again and again all through out the year? Why? Is it all worn out? Are you going to replace it or keep wearing it?”

I didn’t wear my purple fleece robe all through the year, since there’s a season when it would be too warm, but I wore it quite a bit. Eric bought it for me more than ten years ago and it’s perfect. It has adapted to my various weights and moods, is easily washed, is the perfect thickness and softness and length and color. It has wrapped me in warmth and comfort through some really hard times of grief and sadness and depression, as well as being useful during better times. It is simple, functional, clearly durable, and a long time favorite. I have no plans to replace it if I don’t have to.

Besottment Reverb 2013 prompt: “Did you visit any place that holds special meaning to you in 2013? If so, where was it, when did you go and why is it special to you? If not, were you avoiding somewhere? Why? Is there some place you visited for the first time that now holds meaning for you that you hope to revisit in the future? Keep in mind it can be a place, city, country, restaurant, part – anything – even a memory.”

27 Powers Court. As I have said before, this location is magic. It reminds me of when I finally took my meditation practice seriously enough to create a shrine. I knew that it would enhance my practice, but what surprised me is how that sacred space came with me when I left my meditation cushion, that I carried it with me, took it out into the world, a warm glow in the center of my chest that hummed with energy. 27 Powers Court is like that. It’s a retreat center with resident and visiting animals and amazing cooks and places to cuddle or escape to and rest, a safe container for truth telling, a gathering place for fiercely compassionate and open-hearted teachers and students, the warm and welcoming home of a friend, home for the ebb and flow of the sweetest little family, a soft place to land.

Reverb13 prompt: “What word did you select to be your travelling companion in 2013? What gifts did this word bring? What word will you choose to guide you through 2014? What do you hope it will bring into your life?”

2013: Freedom. Just like with my word last year, it wasn’t until almost the end of the year that I truly understood, could see the full measure of the impact of my choice. The way I described it way back in January was this,

Simplicity, space, ease, surrender, clarity, and openness. “The power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint; liberty, independence; the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved; being physically unrestricted and able to move easily; self-determination, open, opportunity, play, joy.” I wish to feel free, to be free from and free to, to let go of habits and ways of being that no longer serve me, to embrace and embody my true nature, to practice radical self-acceptance, to keep my heart open.

In July, I took a look at where I was at, and had this to say,

My experience of freedom right now is strange, mixed, complicated. Yes, I am free from Dexter’s cancer (as is he), released from the worry and the anxiety and the caretaking; and yet that freedom also means a direct and powerful relationship with grief, loss, and sadness, which doesn’t exactly feel free. In terms of my disordered eating, I have a kind-hearted and experienced therapist to help me work through it, let it go, be free from it, but that’s clearly going to be harder than I thought. I have a list of almost 20 reasons I do what I do, which create a resistance to letting go of the behavior, freeing myself from this way of being.

And now, in December, I look back and see a clear path to freedom. It was a combination of the Self-Compassion Saturday project and what I learned, going by myself to California, taking my “seat at the table” as a writer and a teacher, and taking part in the Intuitive Eating book group, which led to things like committing to never dieting or weighing myself again, no more stuffing or starving or smashing myself to bits, and moving how I want to move.

All of these things have led to a particular kind of freedom. I have confidence in my fundamental worth, my basic goodness, which Susan Piver recently described as, “who we are is already completely whole and completely worthy…our basic being is spacious and balanced. With each breath we remember who we really are: decent, kind, sane, and utterly open hearted.” I am honoring my hunger and my fullness. I am trusting my own experience, my intuition, my truth, my basic goodness.

2014: Home. I heard someone say once, “I’m homesick for myself.” This next year, I long for a return home, to feel at home — in my body, my house, my work, my job, my relationships, my life. I long for the sense of comfort, safety, authority, belonging and ease that comes with “home.” I want to nest right where I am, to clear out room, make space, settle in. The process of clearing is related to what Rumi says, “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” And it’s not just about me, solitary and alone, but as Ram Dass says, “we are all just walking each other home.”

Project Reverb prompt: “30 days | They say it takes 30 days to make or break a habit. What did you start? What did you quit?”

I tried to quit my habit of taking my iPod to bed, looking at Instagram and Facebook, checking my email and blog stats, playing Solitaire until I fall asleep, but that only lasted two weeks. I’m okay with it though, since it’s only about 5-10 minutes before I’m asleep.

The things I started/stopped that stuck are no more dieting or weighing myself, and pulling a tarot card from my The Wild Unknown deck each morning.