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

This post is in response to two different prompts from Kat. Yesterday was my first day back at work, at CSU, in my new office. I was gone all day and by the time I got home, I was just too tired to do anything else. And yet, like the last time I skipped a day, the two prompts fit so nicely together, I could answer them in a single post.

The first prompt asks, “What about your multiple selves?” Kat says, “Today I invite you to spell out the range of things you are and would like to be,” and asks, “How could you cultivate a life that reflects all that you truly are?” Kat was focusing specifically on what you do for a living, how you make money.

It’s interesting, because my friend Shellie was just asking me for resources related to discovering a new career, different work. I was telling her how a few years ago, when I realized my work situation wasn’t working, was no longer workable, I took some time to consider what else I might do, research my other options. I took all kinds of career, aptitude, strength, and personality tests and quizzes to get clearer about who I was, to determine my strengths and skills and even my struggles. This is a partial list of those resources:

Personal Strengths Profile, or DISC Index
Myers & Briggs Personality Type Test
The 3 Most Important Questions to Ask Yourself from Mind Valley
how to figure out your purpose/passion/just what the hell it is you want by Justine Musk
Does your LIFE have a THEME? (Want to find out?) by Alexandra Franzen
The Short but Powerful Guide to Finding Your Passion on Zen Habits
Lifestyle Design and Your Ideal World from Chris Guillebeau
How To Focus On What Truly Matters from Zen Habits
The Key to Dying Happy on Zen Habits
The Simple, Ridiculously Useful Guide to Earning a Living from Your Passion on Zen Habits
How to Identify Your Passion and Create Results From It according to Simon Sinek
Find Your Passion in Three Steps from Michael Hyatt
7 Questions To Finding Your True Passion on I Need Motivation
Discover Your Passion: Do What You Love And The Money Will Follow on Pick the Brain
15 Questions that Reveal Your Ultimate Purpose in Life on Goodlife Zen
Ira Glass on Storytelling

There were so many others, but these are the ones I can find, remember. What was interesting is that every test I took, everything I read all pointed the same direction, said the same thing.

In order to feel satisfied, I needed to have meaningful work, to feel like I was helping people, making a difference.
I wasn’t broken, but rather a highly sensitive introvert, and I would need to honor that if I wanted to be successful and happy, to take extra care when I worked more directly with people, to pay attention to how the environment was impacting me.
I am happier working alone, with autonomy.
And yet, I’m also a facilitator, a peacemaker, a caretaker — someone who thrives as part of a community.
I need a strong sense of the goal, want to understand the plan, be given clear direction.
I like working with the details, prefer that someone else monitor the “big picture.”
I don’t like being interrupted or distracted. I prefer to maintain an intense, sustained focus.
I should work as a writer or teacher, a therapist or artist.

Basically, I discovered that I could stay in the job I already had, with a few necessary tweaks. That as long as I chose to work for someone else, what I was already doing was the best fit. And what I plan to do after that is also right on — teaching yoga, writing, and meditation; writing books; blogging; teaching online classes and leading in person workshops & retreats; facilitating small groups; leading people through personal retreats; being a meditation instructor; and maybe some kind of coaching or therapy.

Today’s prompt from Kat was “How will you make time work for you?” She goes on to ask, “how do you go to work and give as much as is adequate but ensure that you have enough left for you?” It’s funny, because I was just telling someone that to do what I want, I need there to be three of me. The problem is, there’s nothing I’m doing that I’m willing to give up. What suffers is my health. I don’t get enough rest or exercise.

My answer to Kat’s question is how these two prompts fit together for me: Passion. That’s the “how.” Passion, excitement has to be the driving force behind what I do. I was thinking about this as we were watching The Mind of a Chef last night, a show about “what it truly means to cook, think, create and live in the food-obsessed world that is The Mind of A Chef.” The three chefs featured so far are almost mad with passion, excitement, and feeling about food — growing it, harvesting it, cooking it, and eating it.

To do fulltime work AND work towards your dream, if you are like me and they aren’t the same thing, you have to BURN with love for the dream. Also, finding the right fulltime work matters, something that is either so different or so close you can put your heart into that too, are willing to allow it to take time away from your other pursuit.

Kat asked how one might “give as much as is adequate” in your job, but I luckily have been able to do better than that (four years in a row I’ve earned a Superior ranking in my annual evaluation) because my “paid” work, my “day” job is such a good fit, even though it isn’t my dream. What I’m good at is what they need me to do. Everybody’s happy. My work at CSU is a mix of writing and teaching, my days move between connecting with people and being alone (more alone). I can be creative but what’s needed from me is also clear, there are distinct goals. It fits with what I’m good at, what I like.

But let’s be completely honest, if I hadn’t renegotiated my contract to have summers off, I might not still be there, or my annual evaluation ranking might have been exceeds expectations, or even only meets expectations.

I have to make sure I rest enough, but that’s really hard because there’s always something, a next thing that I really, really want to be working on, and if not that, there’s dogs to be walked and laundry. To make it all work, I also need:

To get up early, by 5 am at least to have time to write, maybe even meditate before walking the dogs or going to yoga, to leave enough time to do all that before I have to be to work
To go to bed early, so I get enough sleep, which means less going out, especially at night
To have less of a social life, which means fewer friends, but as a highly sensitive introvert this turns out to suit me
To have fewer mindless activities, like shopping, drinking, watching TV
To have a supportive partner, who will cook and clean the bathroom and be okay with taking care of things while I’m gone for days at a time at a retreat or yoga teacher training or just in the other room working on a project
Strong practice to support quieting of the mind, a way to deal with strong emotions, to cultivate non-judgement, to practice being present and mindful
Good music
Inspiring content — video, books, people
Good food
Exercise
Quiet, stillness, contemplation
Tiny shrines, a reminder that it is sacred work, all of it

This is a repost of a guest post I wrote for Jamie Ridler last summer. When she migrated content to her new site, this piece didn’t make it, but I love it so much I want to make sure it is still somewhere. Her prompt for me was “It’s not about being tough. It’s about being tender,” and Jamie invited those of us writing to offer whatever came to us as a response, “anything goes.” You can read a bit more of the background story of the piece here.

Tender Hearted Warrior

In my practice traditions — yoga, meditation, writing, and dog — training to be a warrior is not about being tough, it’s about being tender. Being a warrior in this sense has nothing to do with war, aggression or battle. It is not about control, dominance or winning. Being a warrior is about training the mind and the heart to stay open and present, compassionate and sane, with the intention of easing suffering wherever you find it. And there is plenty of suffering and struggle available for us to work with. In my own life, I’ve directly encountered loss, death, abuse, addiction, mental illness, aggression, and various other kinds of dis-ease.

Through my yoga practice, I work to bring my mind and body together into the same moment, to be present and embodied without judgment. Through this union, I have worked with how I might balance my effort with ease, cultivating a practice that is not too loose and not too tight. What I’ve learned has followed me off my mat, into my life and the world.

Through my meditation practice, I attempt to stay in my seat, to not run away or resist. I sit with whatever emotion or thought comes, without being consumed by it, without getting hooked or running away with it, without trying to change it, working to allow it to arise and dissolve on its own. No matter what comes up, I won’t abandon myself. What I’ve learned has followed me off my cushion, into my life and the world.

Through my writing practice, I intend to show up without an agenda, to surrender to the process, to allow what might arise, to give it a voice. Through the process I discover and learn, and through the product I share what I’ve created, enter into a larger conversation, into connection. What I’ve learned has followed me off the page, into my life and the world.

These three practices supported me in the additional difficulties encountered in my practice of dog, for the harsh reality I’ve faced — I have lost two dogs to cancer in the past four years. One of these dogs, my sweet Dexter, died just three short, (and also unbearably long), days ago. These relatively short but powerful relationships have put me in direct contact with the inevitability of change, impermanence, with the fact that I am not in control of anything. This practice has touched my heart, and what I’ve learned has followed into my life and the world.

A tender hearted warrior must be willing to cut through their own confusion, to sit with their own fear and pain, to remain present no matter what arises. This is incredibly difficult because it goes against our instinct to protect ourselves. We want to keep ourselves tough because we are afraid others will try to hurt us, take advantage, do damage. We also try to stay tough because we don’t trust ourselves — how we feel, think, behave, look — we think we’ll do the wrong things and be rejected, we believe there is something fundamentally wrong with us. We want so badly to fit in, to be safe, to be loved that we will even reject ourselves. However we express it, underlying this confusion is a lack of confidence in our basic goodness – the innate nature, wise and compassionate, that is with us from the beginning, pure and complete, whole.

When you encounter life as it is, full of impermanence and change and suffering, it’s tempting to try to protect yourself by getting tough, building a fortress, hiding inside a cocoon, being hard, untouchable, removed, numb. However, through effort and attention, through practice, we can learn to befriend ourselves, engage with reality and relate directly with basic goodness. We can practice being soft and open, tender with whatever arises. We are able to stay with ourselves, with reality. We won’t freak out, try to control what’s happening, run away or numb out. With confidence in our fundamental wisdom and compassion, we are connected to our inherent power, we can be of benefit, we can help, we can ease suffering in ourselves and in the world. Yes, we will be vulnerable, at risk of being wounded, but we also in this way will know joy, experience love, encounter amazement.

It’s not about being tough. It’s about being tender. By being soft we are strong. Life is tender and terrible, beautiful and brutal – keep your heart open, kind and gentle warrior.