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

From three years ago, but just what it looks like today

1. Getting to work with good people. For example, I got a new camera for work this week, a fancy grownup one, and the day I took it out of the box, I was scheduled to take pictures of some interns in action for a series of blog profiles at CSU. I didn’t know what I was doing, either with the technology or setting up the shots, but with the help of my colleague who knows so much more than I do, the pictures turned out great and I learned some stuff. Another example is I met with my interns for the last time this week, published their final profiles, gave them their parting gifts, and reflected on how lucky I am to get to work with such dedicated, enthusiastic, creative students. And finally, there’s that guy who stops by my office and steals my candy who always has such nice things to say about me, and seems to show up and say them just when I need to hear it.

2. Spring. The bird song, the blooms, the 1000 shades of green, the promise of summer break and a garden, and yes, even the rain, (although, after a week’s worth of it, I’m having to work really hard on that one).

3. Healthy, happy dogs. We are nearing the sweet spot with these boys, that moment in our lives together where they are grown up enough to be easier, calmer, but they are also still young enough to have lots of energy and good health. We’ve got about 2-3 years of that, five if we are lucky, before the inevitable down turn starts to happen on the other end of things, where Sam starts to get older and can’t quite keep up — at least, that’s the hope. We’ll be so lucky if Sam gets old. Obi was still in the sweet spot when he got his cancer, and Dexter was just barely starting to slow down when he got his. I tell Sam and Ringo all the time that they are going to be my old dogs. #fingerscrossed

4. Sangha. Community and connection. My yoga friends, the Open Heart Project, the Daily Dharma Gathering, all the other creatives and healers I’m connected to, my writing companions, and all the other humans who help me to cultivate an open heart, softness and strength, practice, faith.

5. The ability to choose. The luxury to have space and time to listen, to sit quietly with myself and consider what I need, to contemplate what I want, and to be able to choose.

6. Andrea Gibson. She’s an amazing performer, poet, human. I got to finally see her in person this past weekend, in the company of an equally amazing poet and human.

Bonus Joy: how curious Eric is, how excited he gets when he’s telling me about something he saw or read or heard, how he makes me laugh, how he makes himself laugh, the stability and comfort he offers me, sweet potato corn chips and hummus (yes, I’m still obsessed), lemonade, cabbage rolls, smashed potatoes, knowing that I can only do what I can do and what doesn’t get done is okay too, humans who care and are putting so much effort into making things better, how happy Ringo is when I get his favorite toy out for him to play with, how I’ve watched him lately catch himself when he’s about to make a bad decision and independently redirect, how sweet Sam is, how he just wants everyone to be calm and nice, books, being able to give — gifts and attention and effort and encouragement and attention.

1. Truth: This is one of my favorite times of the year, as well as one of the hardest. It’s the busiest part of my whole CSU work year, but it’s also spring — the smell of the lilacs, my irises starting to bloom, buds on my peonies, the trees getting their leaves, the bird song, the promise of a garden and summer, the rain, the rain, the rain.

blergh…

2. Truth: I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. I’m very aware that S.A.D. is the kind of condition that if you don’t have it sounds like a made up thing, but trust me — it’s real. It’s some kind of trick the light and moisture and temperature plays on my brain. And when it’s as gloomy as it has been the past few days (and will be for the next few as well), I just want to stay in bed. I feel like I’m carrying the full weight of the sky and the weather in my body, like the whole thing sits right on top of my head, settles in my chest, and it’s too heavy. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I just thought I was a gloomy person. Then I moved to Colorado and realized it was actually the weather.

3. Truth: I’m ready for this semester to be over. I was playing around with my new work camera yesterday, and my friend who’d stopped by to have lunch took this picture of me. It makes me smile because it’s so ridiculous but also so accurate — this is exactly how I feel right now. I have two more weeks of CSU work (fingers crossed that I finish what I have to by then, but even if I don’t my office has to be packed up so they can move it back into our newly remodeled building, thus the chaos behind me in the picture) and three more Sundays of yoga teacher training, and I’m so ready to be done, to rest.

One wish: That even if we are busy, overwhelmed, sad, tired, confused, we are still able to see and appreciate the beauty amidst the mess, still able to laugh. That we do what we can to be gentle with ourselves and others. That even as we surrender to what is, we don’t give up.