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

1. Two years ago today, we went to pick up Ringo Blue and bring him home. The above picture was Sam that morning. He had no idea how his life was about to change. My wish for him on that day was “May little Ringo Blue love you as much as we do, may you love each other like Obi and Dexter did.” It didn’t work out quite that way, but it has worked out. As grateful as I am for Ringo as I remember that day, I’m even more grateful that we figured out what was wrong with Sam, who two years ago was in so much discomfort, the cause of which was a mystery to every vet we’d taken him to, that we were afraid we’d lose him.

He was so tiny.

2. Wild Writing. I missed the first class of this session last week because I’d agreed to sub a yoga class, forgetting that we were starting the spring session that same morning. I’m so excited to get back to it. It is such a magic practice, and as much as I love leading other people in it, I love being led by Laurie even more.

3. Good friends, making the time to see each other or connect some other way (because some of my favorite people I’ve never even met in person), being able to pick up right where we left off even if it’s been a long time in between, talking so long we have to move the conversation to a second location.

4. Paid sick leave. I had only been back at work one full day and the very next morning I woke up feeling like crap. The crud is still lingering, but thankfully I can do a bit of work and then come home and rest when I’m worn out and still get paid for a full day.

5. Eric. He has hard things just like everybody else, but he doesn’t give up. He still finds things to be happy about, still makes me laugh so hard, is so kind, takes such good care of our dogs.

Bonus joy: my foot still better and getting stronger, good tv to watch when all I can manage is to lie on the couch, pictures and video of the dogs when they were little so I can remember how tiny and soft and cute (but not have to remember any of the hard stuff), wool socks, soft comfortable lounge pants, flowers on my writing desk, clean water, my new bathroom (yes, still), new towels, fresh pineapple, clementines, avocado, a working furnace, texts from my brother, the internet, blooms on my Christmas cacti, and after a whole year without a new bloom on my “ever blooming” Amaryllis the tiniest bud.

1. Truth: Yesterday morning, a cup of tea saved me. My favorite is Good Earth Sweet & Spicy. Yesterday was only my second day back at my CSU work after break, and I woke up feeling crappy. I taught my yoga class and felt a bit better, but by the time I got to campus, my throat was killing me. Luckily, I had some packets of my favorite tea in my office, so made myself a cup in a mug my brother gave me a few years ago for my birthday. Something about that tiny little ritual made me able to make it to lunch time, after which I went home and stayed on the couch for the rest of the day.

2. Truth: I know the life I want for myself, the ideal, but I can’t seem to take that final big step. It feels in a lot of ways like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, and the only thing left is to step off, go over the edge, even though I have no idea exactly how or where I’ll land. There are so many reasons why I don’t want to move, why I’m hesitating — one big one being I have a very comfortable, relatively predictable life right now, and the change I want to make would put me in a place of unknowns and discomfort, a land without a map.

3. Truth: I’m okay with the inbetween. I don’t need to know exactly how this will work out. I don’t need to make any big decisions right now. I don’t need to play this big or lean in or live large or take any kind of risk or upscale anything. It’s okay if I just stand here in the quiet for a bit, contemplating my choices and enjoying the view. I will know when it is time to move, and it won’t be a decision my mind or even my heart makes. It will be a choice that comes from my gut, from a place of deep knowing that doesn’t have to explain itself.

One wish: If you find yourself similarly at a crossroads, may you know that it’s perfectly fine to pause and be still, to do nothing for as long as it takes to muster the courage to choose.