June | 2018 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

1. The color of Robin’s eggs. Eric was able to sneak this photo of the ones in the nest in our lilac bush this morning. I love that something I planted is now keeping this tiny family safe and comfortable, and that there will hopefully be four more robins in the world because of it.

2. Morning walks. Even better, one of them this week was a hike, and Sam and I got to go along. I’ve also done two walks this week without my knee braces.

Post hike nap.

3. I can swim! During my lesson yesterday, I swam on both my belly and my back, with no props. I also floated, which I wasn’t sure I could do, (the secret is relaxing and letting go, duh). Today when we went to the pool, I showed Eric what I could do and was pretty proud of myself. I’m not gonna lie, for at least part of the time I’m still thinking “I’m going to die” but for some of it I can actually allow some joy.

4. My tiny family. This week I made sure to take pictures of Sam, which means I got a few more of him than of Dexter.

5. This tiny human. Her mom was also one of my very favorite babies ever.

Bonus joy: going to lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant and eating so many appetizers that 90% of my actual meal came home with us and I wasn’t even hungry for dinner and then Eric and I split the leftovers for lunch today (that’s like three meals for the price of one), my coneflowers and lilies are blooming, after I’m done writing this post I’m going to get in bed to read and probably take a nap, going to the movies with Eric (we saw The Incredibles 2, Baby Jack was my favorite, that and the little kids in our row laughing hysterically), a big glass of cold clean water, air conditioning (it was 100 degrees here yesterday), my new race flippers for swimming, how quiet it is swimming on my back across the pool, Pilates, Wild Writing, being able to cross “clean out the garage” off the to-do list (until next time), meditating and writing in the morning, how cool it is in the morning with the whole house fan on even when it gets so hot during the day, how soft the dogs are after getting a bath, good books, good (and dumb so you don’t have to work too hard) movies, one of my favorite podcasts in season again (Put Your Hands Together, a comedy show hosted by Cameron Esposito and Rhea Butcher), Pop Tarts, good food and giggles with good friends.

1. Truth: We went on a short hike this morning. All of us, the whole tiny family. This is a big deal, because Sam hasn’t been able to go since he injured himself almost six months ago. He’s up to walking 3.5 miles a day and his amazing lovely wonderful physical therapy vet told us at our last visit she thought he was ready to try a hike, so this morning we did. We went to Mount Margaret, up by Red Feather Lakes, one of our favorite places. We saw hummingbirds and butterflies, a deer and a marmot, a herd of cattle and lots of chipmunks, and two gorgeous dogs that reminded me of our Obi. It was already warm because it’s going to be close to 100 degrees here today, but it was lovely. The other thing to celebrate about this hike is I did it without wearing my knee braces. I’ve been feeling stronger, and like I could do it without them, and I was right.

2. Truth: As humans we are wired to seek out the danger in our environment. Long ago this was absolutely necessary to our survival. We needed to watch for predators and be careful of various poisonous things and mindful of the weather, etc. There is a small, old, deep part of our brain that is still doing this work even now, which explains some of the mystery anxiety we often feel. That is simply the context you need for what I really want to point out — even though we are wired this way, the tiniest beautiful thing can cheer us up, stay with us for a very long time. The whole world can be going to hell in a hand basket, and yet seeing a hummingbird beating its wings like mad against the blue sky can buoy us, remind us that while nothing is okay, somehow everything is fine.

3. Truth: Mid-summer for me and the beginning of summer according to the calendar is always shadowed by sadness and anxiety. Dexter died five years ago today and I still miss him like crazy. It gets stupid hot here. I’m only just coming out of the funk that lingers after I stop working when the anxiety of having to go back hits me. I have so much to write about and at the same time I want to stay quiet and still, would rather read than publish anything. Not only are things not getting crossed off my to-do list, things have been added. I feel awake enough to my life to know that I’m not doing what I “should,” (although that will be changing). It’s a strange mix of rest and worry.

One wish: No matter where we are or what our obstacles, may we notice the tiny moments of joy, collect them and carry them with us, hold them close and not give up.