January | 2015 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

1. Friday. It was the first week of classes at CSU, the first week of a training class I’m taking with Ringo. I took on a seven day blog challenge, started a new Daily Dharma program, am gearing up to teach a bunch of yoga classes, and am taking part in an online writing class. I worked my ass off. I have a lot of work to finish today, but after teaching a yoga class Saturday morning, I’m not doing anything the rest of the weekend and I can’t wait. Sweet Sam is warming up the couch for me right now.

2. Peach jam, which I’ve been hoarding like my very own jar of sticky sweet sunshine and finally opened and oh my everything that is holy it is so delicious, the dear friend who gave it to me, and Lucille’s biscuit mix, (I make awesome biscuits, but sometimes you just want to eat them, not do all the prep work).

Doggie eye chart

3. Sam’s Pannus isn’t as bad as it could be. It can eventually make some dogs go blind, but the eye specialist who saw Sam earlier this week said his case probably only runs a 1% risk of that happening as long as we keep treating it. Now we just have to figure out his food allergy.

This still happens rarely enough it’s worth taking a picture when it does

4. Ringo keeps growing up. He still has a case of the puppy crazies, and can be so frustrating sometimes, but he’s getting so much easier. He’s so smart — if he had an owner who wasn’t so busy/lazy, he’d be a superstar.

5. Hiking season. I rarely go with them, but this is the time of the year when Eric does a lot of hiking with the dogs. Ringo is old enough to go with now, and I am either at work or get a few glorious hours at home alone.

Bonus joy: How much Eric and I laugh watching old episodes of Friends, new music to listen to while I work, my friend Amy’s sweet dog Burg probably doesn’t have cancer after all, finding where I bought those Hello Kitty socks for my niece so I can get her the right size, meeting with my new interns and them being just as awesome as the rest, all the TV that’s going to keep me company while I rest on the couch this weekend — new episodes of Downton Abbey, New Girl, The Mindy Project, Parks & Rec, Parenthood.

Picture by Cubby

Your Turn Challenge prompt: “Teach us something that you do well.”

In my life, I’ve had a lot of experience with crazy. Crazy takes all forms: mental illness, personality disorders, neurosis, idiot compassion, poverty mentality, confusion, greed, obsession, addiction, victimhood, aggression, etc.

Through my experience, I’ve learned that there are only four ways to deal with crazy.

1. Agree with it. No matter how out there the logic or argument or plan, you agree with it. You go along, you help, you support it. You say things like “oh yeah” and “you’re right” a lot, and otherwise you say nothing. The problem with this approach is that it requires you to be crazy too.

2. Disagree with it. When something seems crazy, you say so. You say “no.” You contradict, you argue, you refuse, you reject and resist. You look crazy right in the face and say “that’s crazy.” The problem with this approach is that you become the target of crazy. You make crazy mad and now crazy wants to hurt you.

3. Avoid it. You see it for what it is, crazy and harmful, and you want nothing to do with it, ever. You get as far away as you can. You stay out of its way. You do not engage crazy. There is no interaction, no connection. The problem with this approach is that sometimes you are related to crazy or crazy is involved with someone you love, so opting out isn’t so easy. The other problem with this approach is that there’s really no avoiding crazy — it’s everywhere.

4. Compassionate engagement. This is the most difficult one of all. It requires you to be fully present with crazy without judgement, neither agreement or disagreement. Staying present, connecting with your own innate wisdom, you drop your agenda and give your attention to whatever might arise. With wisdom and compassion, moment to moment, you determine how to respond. If you are unsafe, you leave. If you can help, you do. You keep your heart open but you don’t allow crazy to infect you. The problem with this approach is that it requires you to be present with every moment, to adapt to the way things shift and change. It’s not easy.