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

1. A beautiful snowy morning walk, with the most amazing moon and sunrise. The day before it snowed it was so warm I wore sandals, but I was happy to see the snow.

2. Ringo in training class. He did so good. I was really tired, had been working straight through the day starting with teaching a yoga class at 7 am, and was tempted to skip training. But I already missed the week before, for the same reason, and if we skipped one more it would be essentially quitting the whole class since there are only four sessions total. We are already retaking it because Ringo got sick the last time and we had to miss the last two classes. I hadn’t been working with Ringo and I was afraid we’d do terrible, but he was amazing! At one point, I had him in a settle, the first step to a real down/stay, and he was just hanging out, watching the other dogs work while I walked further and further away from him, returning every once in a while to give him and treat, and he just stayed there! I couldn’t believe it. He loves working, loves the people there, gets so happy when I start packing his training stuff and he knows where we are going. On the way in, at the second set of doors, he sat and then threw back his head and howled a little he was so excited.

3. Tiny chocolate muffins, crunchy Gala apples and crunchy peanut butter, kale salad, clementines, the good chocolate, Marionberry jam, french toast with butter and maple syrup.

4. Cuddling with Sam. He gets into our bed a few hours before the alarm clock goes off and cuddles with me. I don’t hate it.

Om Ananda Yoga

5. Teaching yoga. I’ve been subbing for my Wednesday and Friday morning class while our teacher is on vacation. Someone new to the class today came up afterwards and told me she was coming back to my class, that she appreciated how my teaching was “undriven by ego.” It was such a nice compliment.

Bonus Joy: The first week of Feast, Neil Gaiman’s new book (I’m supposed to go wait in line later today to have him sign it, but rumors are there will be 500 other people doing the same, so this hsp introvert hasn’t yet decided for sure if she’s going through with it), rereading this post he wrote when he lost his dog and crying again (the real reason I want to have him sign my book is so I can tell him that this blog post was my favorite thing he’s ever written), a whole entire weekend without a single plan, Ninja poetry, writing dates where the conversation is so wonderful we never even get to the writing, a new harness for Ringo that he hates just as much as all the others but which fits him so much better and seems like it will be more comfortable, seeing my neighbors out early in the morning walking their dogs, blue sky, people who are excited about their work, people who shovel their sidewalks when it snows, neighbors you like so much you are sad when they move, new music on its way from The Weepies and even better than that Deb Talan is officially in remission and cancer-free.

It says “feast” but I like how the script almost makes it look like “beast.”

Healing the self means committing ourselves to a wholehearted willingness to be what and how we are — beings frail and fragile, strong and passionate, neurotic and balanced, diseased and whole, partial and complete, stingy and generous, twisted and straight, storm-tossed and quiescent, bound and free. ~Paula Gunn Allen

1. Truth: Change always begins with awareness. When something clearly isn’t working, no longer serves me (if it ever did), I am faced with “how do I chance this pattern, this habitual way of being?” At first, all I need to do is notice how things are. I sit back, relax, and observe without any judgement or agenda. I watch what arises, notice how I react, see how things really are. I don’t do anything to intervene, don’t need to interrupt or redirect. I am simply a curious witness. All I have to do is slow down and see.

The most fundamental aggression to ourselves, the most fundamental harm we can do to ourselves, is to remain ignorant by not having the courage and the respect to look at ourselves honestly and gently. ~Pema Chödrön

2. Truth: This initial observation is helped by a sense of curiosity and humor, a quality of gentleness. If I notice things I don’t like, I don’t spend any energy assigning blame. I don’t disagree or beat myself up. If I notice things I like, I don’t cling to them. If I’m confused, I don’t get upset or give up. I continually remind myself that my goal is to see the situation as it is. i don’t need to do anything about it.

Self-compassion is approaching ourselves, our inner experience with spaciousness, with the quality of allowing which has a quality of gentleness. Instead of our usual tendency to want to get over something, to fix it, to make it go away, the path of compassion is totally different. Compassion allows. ~Robert Gonzales

3. Truth: Long before I embody change, I practice pausing. There’s no shortcut for me from awareness to change, but rather I find myself noticing and then pausing. After the pause, I might act out exactly as I always have. On the surface it may seem like nothing has changed, and yet something fundamental has shifted. I can see what is happening. I notice and pause. Even if I act out in a habitual way, I don’t beat myself up about it. I know if I keep practicing, I may one day rest in the pause, and even later still I might make a different choice, embody real change.

We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy. ~Pema Chödrön

One wish: May we let ourselves off the hook, forgive ourselves. May we stop smashing ourselves to bits. May we be gentle. May we slow down and notice — all the ways we are suffering and all the ways we are brilliant. May we allow room for all of it: grief, relief, misery, and joy.