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

Eric and I (and the dogs, of course the dogs) went hiking and running this morning. He remarked again how much better shape I am in, that we were doing something I wasn’t always able to.

He’s completely right. I have gone through various periods of fitness and then weakness in the nineteen years we’ve been together, circled around and around wellness, momentarily maintaining it but never able to persist, coming together and falling apart. But something about this time is different. I’ve had a breakthrough, a realization, what my friend calls a “come to Jesus moment”–you cannot get healthy with diet and exercise if you hate, loathe, abuse yourself. The only way to health and well-being is through self-love.

I want to make sure you get that, because it’s so important: the only way to health and well-being is through self-love.

It is through this devotion to yourself, self-care, a sense of yourself as precious, worthy, and enough that you become well, regain sanity, connect to your innate wisdom and compassion. It’s from this base of health and well-being that you also find the strength, the courage and stamina, the fearlessness, wisdom and compassion to help others, to serve them. It’s like Evita Ramparte said in the documentary Hungry for Change:

Something miraculous happens when you take care of yourself. You realize that you are precious…You become in love with yourself basically, and it shines, it overflows to others, becomes contagious. You give others the permission to be in love with themselves, with life.

Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche has a new book coming out, Running with the Mind of Meditation: Lessons for Training Body and Mind. Chapter Two of the book is called “Building Your Base” and in it, he says that when you start running, you need to build your base. You can’t run a marathon on your first day. You start off slowly, but continually challenge your body so that it builds the structures you will need, the endurance and the strength necessary, to be a stable and smart runner. Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche explains it this way:

The base, as it turned out, was simply doing enough running, without overdoing it, to build the integrity of the bones and the strength of the tendons and muscles. This would slowly power up my basic physiology so it could handle the running. It was very similar to the first stages of meditation, in which we focus on building strength.

I have applied this wisdom directly to my running. Every time I walk the dogs, I run as much as I can, not pushing myself too far, but certainly touching my edge. I know that the more I run, the stronger my foundation becomes, and the easier running becomes.

I also am realizing how this wisdom applies to just about anything you are attempting to accomplish or change. In his book, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche relates it directly to the practice of meditation, saying:

This process of taking the inherent structure of the body and strengthening it through regular and repeated runs is very similar to training and developing the mind in meditation…The Tibetan word for meditation is gom. It essentially means “getting used to, familiarizing.” Meditation, then, is the act of familiarizing your mind with what you want it to do. That process of familiarity is just taking qualities and abilities that the mind naturally has, focusing on them in a methodical way, and thus building your base.

Learning self-love and self-care, moving towards health and well-being, undergoing this year of retreat, this life-rehab is building my base.

I am starting to be able to see what’s on the horizon, catch glimpses of what is possible, and it’s beautiful. It makes me weep sometimes, it is so amazing.

But so is the process, the path leading me there. And I have such good company.

What base are you building, dear reader? On this day of rest, may you have time to day dream about what’s on the horizon, and may it be beautiful.

The simplest definition I can come up with for spiritual practice is something you do mindfully and wholeheartedly on a regular basis, preferably every day, and through this devotion, this repetition and experience, you learn and evolve, and as it is spiritual, you also connect with God (the Universe, your Buddha-Nature, Mystery, the Great Spirit, etc.)–however you might define that for yourself.

My primary practices are:

Word–reading or listening and writing, especially writing
Yoga–while this primarily is asana (what people typically think of when you say “yoga”), it can also include yogic breathing, mindful eating, study, and service
Meditation–this includes working with mantra, chanting, visualization and contemplation, as well as sitting, shamatha style meditation
Dog–this post will attempt to explain

That last one might seem out of place, more so to someone who has never had a dog, but for me, it is every bit as essential and spiritual as the other three.

Practicing word gives me a voice, allows me to express and communicate and understand my experience.

Yoga connects me to my body, helps me align my mind with it in the present moment, to embody the manifestation of what I learn.

Meditation is similar, but is more focused on training my mind, enabling me to connect with reality, to finally arrive at the place I was already, to realize that where I was trying so hard to get is here. Meditation connects me with my basic goodness, an innate wisdom and compassion that are always available.

Dog is all about training my heart. It is about the devotion it takes to build a relationship, friendship and trust, to bond with a being that does not speak, doesn’t think like we do, and yet most certainly feels, experiences suffering and joy, just like we do. It’s about being entrusted with another life, to tend and care for as long as it exists, as best as you possibly can. It’s about loving with your whole heart even though eventual grief and loss are a guarantee.

My dogs have been some of my greatest teachers.

From Obi, I learned to be less afraid, the importance of friends, resilience and strength, to live and love with my whole heart, to face death and to let go.

From Dexter, so far I’ve learned to relax, that happiness is simple, the importance of play and work (and that maybe they are the same thing), to insist that others respect my boundaries, tenacity and determination, and that healing is possible because the love never ends.

From Sam, I am learning surrender, letting go of control, the importance of staying calm, patience, appreciation for enthusiasm, the healing properties of love, that there will always be another dog, and that in this moment, right now, there is no problem.

And Muffin, the first dog I ever loved, who wasn’t actually “mine,” the canine point of origin for my life-long love of dogs taught me that no matter how far apart you are, and no matter how long you might be separated, and even if you never see each other again, the love remains and you will never forget.