thank u, next

"One taught me love
One taught me patience

And one taught me pain"

Every person that comes into your life is either a mirror or a teacher.
I'll spare you the names of those I've "loved and lost", those who've poked at old wounds, or those that continue to show up to teach me the lesson, again. The truth is, I don't label any of my relationships as a loss.  If you park your ego, you'll realize that we attract people along our path to help us learn, grow, evolve, even develop qualities we need at that time. Some will teach you love, patience, pain. Others will be the light, your comfort, your home. And then you have the ones that will teach you how to love yourself. They'll hurt you, make you second guess your self-worth, or drain your energy. Here's the game-changer though - when you lose your sense of self, you attract those that'll feed off of that energy, and you'll give your power away. All are teachers or mirrors. We're always giving people permission on how we want to be treated. You decide, always.
Then one day, you'll discover a new love that you know is gon' last, 'cause her name is ___________(insert your name here). The relationship with yourself, will be amazing from the lessons you've cultivated through love and pain.
In everything I attract in my life, I always look for the lesson from the teacher or the mirror. Most times, I make the honour roll. Sometimes I'm a slooooow learner. I need to repeat the mistake. Feel the pain, again. Fight with my intuition (because I know better)! Just know that before you throw shade at anyone that hurt you, try to understand the assignment first. Every relationship is an opportunity to expand or shrink. You choose the result.
Wherever you've landed along my life path, thank you for showing up, doing your thing, staying behind or walking beside me. Your lesson was essential for the next level of my evolution. I'll continue to be tested, as will you. Too bad there aren't cheat sheets to prep us for what lies ahead. Life is a mix of beautiful and brutal moments that present themselves when the student is ready. Continue to say, "thank u, next", because you've been preparing for 'next' for a long time - that's how you turned out amazing!

Here's to our teachers - May they continue to show up when we're ready to learn from them.

"I've got so much love
Got so much patience
I've learned from the pain
I turned out amazing"

My Survival Story

When you can grow through a crack

I was sitting on the bathroom floor, in my hotel room, overwhelmed with emotion. My body was trembling. My teeth were chattering. Tears were pouring down my face. All I could think was, “How can I care for two children, if I can’t even take care of myself?” And then the hole got deeper, the light was dimming, and the only thing I could hear, were my thoughts of inadequacy. I wanted to escape from my mind, break free from my body. Seconds became minutes, and the longer I sat in my suffering, the louder the thoughts were yelling, "You're never going to get through this. You can't even control your body. You don't deserve the love and support behind this door. Who are you, anyway?"

It’s a dark and lonely place. You feel completely disconnected from your truth. You don’t recognize who you are. As a result, you prefer to isolate yourself from any social function on your calendar. You’re trying to control your feelings, but you’re constantly defeated. That’s how I felt when I hit postpartum, rock bottom.

Once our family vacay was over, I came back home, looking for help. I miraculously found a psychotherapist to guide me through my healing. My sessions were twice a week, for almost six months. I had to write in my journal in-between sessions and submit my work for review. Every entry I wrote was discussed. It was the hardest work I have ever done in my life. I was unpeeling 35 years of accumulated feelings that had nowhere to go. When we repress emotions, they settle in our muscles. That’s why we have tension in our bodies. All the tears we hold back, all the unspoken words, all the resentment we refuse to release, stay inside. When the feelings run out of places to go, you’re faced with a choice: break open or break down. I’m here today because I broke open. Every finger I ever pointed came back to me. Every personality trait I disliked in others, came back to me. Every story I told, came back to me. I had to take accountability for my role. I had to see myself through the eyes of others. I had to find God in myself, so I could see God in the cruelest person. I had to make peace with every old wound, so I could love myself again. I was lucky. Kate Spade was not. Anthony Bourdain was not. Robbin Williams was not. Chris Cornell, Chester Bennington, Kurt Cobain, Alexander McQueen, and many more, were not.

I was blessed with the tools to get me through any situation. Aside from therapy, I prayed a shit load, practiced yoga consistently, even cried through every meditation. I showed up for myself. Even through the thick mud I was treading, I kept looking for the light. “It can’t be dark forever”, I thought. I used my tools all the time. I still live surrounded by statues of Ganesha (remover of obstacles) and other healing deities. I clear the energy around me with sage. I use mala beads to pray and meditate. I write. I read. I keep growing through it all. We have this incredible power within us. The problem lies in our repetitive thoughts. These thoughts feed off each other. The instant a thought of unworthiness surfaces, within seconds, they’re accelerating at a record breaking pace. It’s like a never ending replay race, until the baton falls. You either start over again or you change your pattern. It’s tricky, but when you're committed to working on yourself from the inside out, you get better at the game. The most effective tool that saved me, was my breath. Breathing is the only way to calm the nervous system. I learned how to breathe with awareness and it. saved. my. life!

I will repeat what I wrote after Kate Spade’s death: To believe that your presence, your voice, your humour, your wit, your ideas, even the simplicity of your smile, has absolutely NO worth in this world, is the most heartbreaking lie anyone can believe about themselves. To sit with dark thoughts of inadequacy, unworthiness, or shame, is sadly, a familiar place for many of us. If you're curled up in that dark hole, this is the message you've been waiting for: You are the Greatest Miracle in the World. Every second before you is a blessing. And if pain is your subject, polish it, and share it with us. Those with the same pain will heal with you. Everyone benefits from your healing. It's a ripple effect. Break down to break open, but please, don't stay broken.

Your friend will not call you to say she’s derailed. She will withdraw. Your sister will not burden you with her erratic thoughts. She will keep them to herself. Your co-worker will not risk being judged by his feelings. He will keep them hidden. There are signs. Look for them. But before you can do that, please look within yourself, at your shit, and accept it. Once you can look at your own darkness, you can then recognize it and accept it in others. And remember, we’re all walking each other home. No one is winning any prize at the end. The prize is in the moments, the journey, the process, the battle, the uncertainty, the struggle, the pain. Surviving is the win.

Curious Rebels

My nieces

"That is not your story" - a line I often repeat to myself or share with others during times of distress. With the death of 14-year-old Athena Gervais earlier this month, and now the hunt for missing 10-year-old boy, Ariel - it's just impossible to silence the empath within. At this time, our city is on its 8th day, searching for Ariel Jeffrey Kouakou. It's now noon, which means my teen nieces are on their lunch break, as a police helicopter passes by my window. How can I not wonder if they're safe? My emotions are heavy.
There are two families that are shattered right now. One will never see their daughter graduate high school and the other may have the same ending. Completely different stories, with the same heartbreak. Again, "This is not your story", I repeat. When bad news strikes young blood, our compassion escalates. We all tell ourselves that it could be our child that we innocently sent off to meet a friend, or our teens living dangerously while at school. This could be our story.
My eleven year old nephew, often roams his neighbourhood by bike, to meet his friends. We cannot shelter our children from childhood basics that develop their independence. However, I'm concerned now. I'd rather follow a few feet behind, watch him play from a distance, than let him be on his own. It might be wrong, but the fear is fresh. Truth is, if we thought of all the negative things that could unfold, we'd never leave our homes. I'll try not to project my fears of 'what if' and pray that every child I see walking to school alone, riding their bike alone, staying at home alone, is divinely protected. That brings me some peace.
To my highly intelligent and free-spirited nieces, I pray for you as well. As young teens, you're tasting a little freedom, heightening your curiosity, and experimenting with some rebellion. I know because I see my fourteen year old self through your eyes. You'll make some bad decisions, which are necassary for your growth. You'll choose the wrong friend, kiss the wrong boy, study the wrong chapter. All these wrongs will teach you what is right.*[Sigh. Pause. Hold back tears.]
When I heard the tragic story of Athena Gervais, I immediately thought of my nieces. This is for them (and my nephews too).
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Dear Curious Rebels,
Know that I'm your emergency call, your judge-free zone, your free pass. I come with some solid rebel experience and understanding ears. I'll always be your safe space to share your insecurities, dramas, heartbreak, foolishness, and poor decisions. My purpose in your life is to be present and provide unconditional love, so that your hardest times will feel a little softer, easier.
I know for sure you'll be tempted to do the wrong thing. Stop. Think. Then proceed with caution. You see, I want you to be around for a long time. I want you to look back at your grade 8 school picture and wonder what on earth you did to your hair that year. I want you to see your prom video, cringe at your 'manly' moustache, or overload of sequins that could light up the Eiffel Tower. I want you to look back and remember the teacher who believed in you when you didn't, the friends that consoled you after your humiliating Carnival wipe out, or the volleyball game you won with ten seconds left on the clock. You deserve to have these moments. This is your time to create all these memories. You'll also be faced with tough decisions, uncomfortable conversations, influence to look a certain way, or encouragement to do the wrong thing. Please don't forget your worth.
Don't confuse curiosity with recklessness. Don't believe intimacy comes with pressure. Don't be a follower when you can be the leader. Stand up for what's right, when it's easier to sit. Don't abandon an intoxicated friend. And please don't ever be the passenger to a drunken driver. You're too smart to make dumb choices. Live these years with curiosity, courage, and some caution. I pray that your good decisions outweigh your poor ones. I pray you'll never forget how much you matter. And remember I'm a speed dial away.
Love you,
M
Tonight as we tuck in our children, or speak to our nieces and nephews, remember that we cannot stop them from exploring. Instead, we'll pray that they feel loved and are guided by good friends, approachable teachers, encouraging coaches, and caring parents. As the police heli hovers over the river again today, I want us to remember that although our children can drive us mad, we need to hug them hard, listen more attentively to their daily stories, and do more of the things we take for granted. Today they may be nine years old, seeking our attention; then they'll be fourteen, and we'll be seeking theirs. Love in the moment. It matters.
To every family that has lost a child; we are grieving with you.

Authentic Audit

You know all those things you've been telling yourself that make you feel scared, defensive, guilty, ashamed, undeserving?  How they working out for you? I'll tell you how they're serving me. They're keeping me small, like little league small, forcing me to sit on the bench. They show up every day, like the chronic pain you've been struggling with for years. And I wish I could tell you the secret to the cure, but I'm unqualified.
Are you ever about to do something, and then this warning signal sounds off, awakening self-doubt? Maybe it was that time you considered applying for a new position, but suddenly you second guessed your qualifications, and stayed on the bench. Or maybe you wanted to share your Nutella toast on social media, but stopped because you're a nutritionist, and well that wouldn't look good. It could even be the moment you're about to give advice, but stop yourself because you feel completely ineligible to share your input. Why. Do. We. Do. That?
Since this is my truth's landing pad, I'm about to share some uncomfortable feelings I've been harbouring. Confession: I've avoided setting my Instagram profile to 'public' for fear that perhaps some stranger will write a hurtful comment about my knowledge, capabilities, body type, eyebrows....basically anything. What about the bank of fitness (not yoga) videos I've created to help others get motivated to exercise? Well they're sitting in my phone, or rather, "on the bench". Because the truth is, who am I to offer workout videos? I'm not a trainer! I don't even exercise every day! My self-confidence gets triggered by the sad fact that I might be judged for suggestions I'll provide on what to eat, how to tone your triceps, who to see for back pain, or which books will change your life. The truth is the entire 'Fifty Shades' collection holds prime real estate in my book case. And although I eat to live, I also abuse ketchup Doritos when they're in season. As well, there are days when I feel motivated to hit the gym, and days when my only form of movement involves getting in and out of my car. And if I don't talk about my husband or kids, it doesn't mean they don't exist. My life is a minestrone of family, friends, yoga, reading, procrastinating, sharing, hiding, judging and loving. Can we all just be OK with that? Can we still cheer each other on through our highs, as well as our lows? Can we just be vulnerable more often?
It's time for a real, authentic audit of our behaviour, our patterns, our thoughts. We spend so much time scrolling through other people's lives, often comparing ourselves, while judging others on their baking skills, good looks, or eye-rolling, daily dose of positivity. Yes, I judge often too! You're not alone. In fact, we're way more the same than we are different.
So my rant today comes from a place of insecurity, mixed with vulnerability. You'll be judged for being too quiet, too loud, too skinny, too fat, too sexy, too boring, too confident, too submissive, too forgiving, too angry, too mean, too kumbaya! Fuck it! The next time your warning signal goes off, poking at your self-confidence, get up from the bench. The world has enough bench warmers, we need light bearers, brave souls that are willing to expose their truth. Everyone you judge wants to be happy. Just like you. And remember that being judged really sucks. We're all in this together. Instead of lifting ourselves by tearing down others, let's rise by lifting others. We've all got wounds that keep us small, insecure, and separate. Yet we all want to be loved, so loosen your grip on what others think and YOU DO YOU! Be brave, my friends! Reset your thoughts, open your heart, see yourself in others. And most importantly, LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS SAD. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS SCARED. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS ANGRY. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS JUDGEMENTAL. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS SUFFERING. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO IS INSECURE. LOVE THE ONE IN YOU WHO HATES HERSELF. LOVE ALL THE ONES IN YOU, SO YOU CAN LOVE THEM IN OTHERS TOO.

The White Truth *Unfiltered

No Filter

Wrapping up 2017 with a massive bow and permanent adhesive! What a year it has been. Today marks the last New Moon of the year. This is a perfect opportunity to glance back to see how far you've journeyed, how much you've grown, and how many lessons you've learned in its unfolding. I think it's fair to say that collectively, it hasn't been the easiest year. Again, we were reminded that we can do hard things.

This year challenged our morals, our faith, our trust, our beliefs. It was the year of awakening for many. For me, I tapped into a suppressed desire for the truth. Although truth telling is part of my daily practice, it's far from being easy. In a society where social sharing is a new norm, I often wonder - have we gone from filtering our photos to filtering the parts of ourselves we'd rather hide? Are we mostly pretending that motherhood is THE best, that our partners are our soul mates, that we have the ultimate career, and that we have it all under control? Yes, I think we aren’t exposing the real truth. It’s OK to keep your life private, just don’t put a bow on BS.  I know moms who are overwhelmed with the job title, but still bake the cookies to maintain the image. I’ve heard more stories about marriages falling apart this year than ever before. Most recently, my response was, "Impossible! They’re so in love on Facebook." This year we've been forced to reveal the truth. From abuse, to lies, to infidelity, to grief, we've all been touched by one of these ugly truths. For me personally, this has been a year of tremendous growth and insight. I finally reached a point where verbal abuse became a deal breaker. I also dug deep through old wounds to get to a place of self-acceptance.

If this year bitch slapped you with pain, I feel you. It takes a great deal of self-love to get through the messy moments. I wonder – is the truth teaching us to love ourselves enough to recognize right from wrong? Maybe we're realizing that it's OK if we're not the #familygoals, #couplegoals, #momgoals we think we should be. Maybe it's time for new #goals such as, #ilovemyself, #igotthis, #icandohardthings. Maybe we've reached a fork in the road where we're asked to either follow our heart or follow the rules. Maybe 2017 was all about loving yourself first, so that you don’t have to pretend it’s all beautiful. You don't have to be challenged in relationships for this to apply to you. This is relevant for anyone stuck in an unfulfilling job, or a new parent struggling with the new reality of who they are, or anyone suffering from crippling anxiety. The truth is that you’ll only feel joy when you love ALL the parts of yourself....the ugly ones too. And when you truly love yourself, you won't stand for verbal abuse, chase your unfaithful partner, believe the "what if" stories, nor will you be tempted towards avoidance, escapism, addiction. You won't allow any of it because you are un-becoming the person you've been after all the stories, labels, hashtags. This is your year-end review. You may be called to bury your old self, old patterns, or an old wound. In my case, I’m burying a limiting belief that being needed and being loved are the same. I believed that if I wasn't needed, I wouldn’t be loved. Here’s a dirty truth. My husband would often tell me that he didn't need me. Grateful for the wound because although it was hurtful to hear, it’s the truth.  He doesn't need me. No one needs anyone. Needing people keeps us attached to this illusion that we're incomplete or incapable of experiencing life on our own. 

Dear Husband,

You were right all along. You don't need me.

Thank you for taking the pressure off.

Love,

My best self

Your turn. What are you burying this year? What limiting belief are you letting go of? What truth are you admitting to yourself? What have your 2017 experiences taught you? Is there any area in your life calling for transformation? What are your deep emotions telling you?

As Jay-Z said, "What you reveal, you heal."  This is your rebirth. You've been given what you need to rise up. You’ve been preparing for this moment for lifetimes. If I learned anything on my iphone this year, it’s that there's no filter that can enhance a fake life. We’re all walking each other home, so let's keep it honest. When I’m fighting with the truth, I ask the Universe to show me the way, bring me the right people for guidance, give me the tools to help me see clearly, and my latest request is to be given what I NEED not what I WANT.

Warning: you may take two steps back and feel stuck. The Universe will hold you back if you're not ready. Sometimes you have to experience what you don’t want, to understand what you do want.

Life is an experience. Surrender to the ups and downs. Remember that where you're headed is much more important than what you've left behind. Travel light and let the truth lead you into 2018.

Reflections

"Don't look back, you're not going that way", read the sign. Over the past few months, I've been separating my life in 'take' or 'toss' piles. During this process, I've observed the human desire of attachment to the past. Although purging did prove to be difficult, I realized that the greatest release went far beyond tossing mementos or yearbooks.
I haven't written in a long time because this is where my feelings come to breathe. This is where all the layers come off. I come undone. This is where crisis finds a cure. This is where I lay the truth to rest. When I find myself disconnecting from the truth, stuffing discomfort, or numbing feelings I'd rather forget, you won't hear from me. I want to be adored for my commitment to the truth, not for decorating lies. With all my years of yoga practice, I still get overwhelmed with feelings I try to rationalize. I wander so far deep in my thoughts, that only when my knees hit the floor, do I gain clarity.
One thing I know for sure is that separating your life in 'take' or 'toss' is highly therapeutic. You take what sparks joy and you toss what no longer serves you. Once I discarded the things I didn't need, I did the same with my relationships. I eliminated toxic behaviour I had allowed for too long. As an opinionated, strong spoken woman, I can sadly be submissive when I feel powerless. For years I allowed others to talk down to me, which served me well. Yes, you read right! It served me well. The abuse reminded me to fall in love with myself over and over again. Because when you love yourself, you know better than to lower your head and silence your thoughts.
This is a glimpse into my truth. I've spent countless days reflecting on my past. I'm not always happy with the choices I made, but I would have chosen the same. I know I'm being guided by the universe and I trust what unfolds before me. As I prepared for a new beginning in a new home, I also wanted a new mindset. Time is an illusion and life makes no promises. I decided to stop waiting for later, tomorrow, next year. Now, I'm influenced by one question, "Does this spark joy?" This sentence brings me closest to the truth. If it doesn't feel joyful, don't do it! I won't sit with company that doesn't feed my soul. I won't comfort others with bullshit. I don't do artificial flowers or friends. And most importantly, I just want to love unconditionally, be loved for my truth, and hold myself responsible for loving myself. Everything I tossed - pots, pictures, people - were significant in my story (even the pots!). They all served their purpose which I'm grateful for. I can't say it was easy, but again, we can do hard things. If you want to receive, you need to release.
As this new moon comes around this weekend, I wish you joy on this journey. Commit to a new mindset for a new beginning. It's never too late to choose joy. It's always there. You may not see it, but you can feel it. Remember that we're complete, but not finished. We're constantly evolving into who we need to be in this lifetime. There's no finish line. Make mistakes, grow from them, look forward, follow your heart, choose joy - you'll never regret it.

Not for Everyone

I want to let you in on a little secret. I hit "rock bottom" shortly after the birth of my son. I call it "rb" because my life path was completely derailed by anxiety. I couldn't recognize myself anymore. I found comfort in isolation. Social settings were my nemesis. I wasn't fun anymore, and fun was an actual threat to my anxiety. My family and friends couldn't understand what I was feeling, and neither could I. 

Fast forward six years later to today. I'm OK! I'm actually feeling fantastic! Here's the thing though, anxiety can eff you up badly. It can take you to a very dark, lonely place. I started this blog to share my story about my journey. Sometimes the content is light and loving, sometimes it's sad and angry. It's OK not to be OK. Life has highs and lows, joy and pain. Welcome all of it! I'm not always strong, confident, happy, positive. In fact most of the time, I have to remind myself to be in the moment, go with the flow. I spent most of my life showing up confident, but feeling insecure. I'm transforming everyday, as I hope you are too. I'm using this platform (social media too) as my space of vulnerability. Vulnerability is not weakness. It's risky to be open about your feelings, but I can't imagine being any other way. 

I'm not for everyone! I can be wild in a bar, outgoing at dinner, and calm in a yoga session. I'm a box of chocolates....never know what you're gonna get! But I also want to have the hard conversations about: addiction, depression, divorce, illness, death. I refuse to numb the feelings that are essential to our growth. For a long time, my goal was to conquer every quest. Nope, that's not me anymore. I just want to be of service by continuing to show up, share my feelings, help if I know how. I can have a blog post viewed over 2000 times, but it's that private message I'll receive, that makes the difference. It's not about how many likes or followers we have. It's the ones that reach out to us with gratitude, or awareness, or relief in knowing that they're not alone. We can be brave and scared together. I'm learning that loving ourselves, through the process of owning our story (messy, scary, beautiful, extraordinary) is the bravest thing we'll ever do.

So, I'm OK, better than OK! I still struggle with fear, "never enough", judgement, shame, even joy. Despite all that, I'll continue to expose my emotions in hope that they be of benefit. For those who are inspired, enlightened, moved by my posts, you're my tribe. We see each other as the same. If you judge me, that's OK too. I learned that while we're busy judging others, we avoid looking at ourselves. Another loaded lesson! So today, go out into the world to serve from a place of vulnerability. You won't regret it!

Dear Chloe

Dear Chloe,

Chloe turns 9

Nine years ago today, you chose me to be your mom. I can imagine the scene from above. I was listening to Madonna while working tirelessly on the next marketing campaign. I wanted my ideas to be out-of-the-box, innovative, buzz worthy. I'd work until my pitch was perfect. I was hard...on myself and my team. I must've been sitting on an airplane, talking as I always do, with my sarcastic humour. Underneath my confident tone, I was anxious about flying. That same day, I'm pretty sure I landed in NYC and went shopping, seeking comfort in my discomfort. And you were watching all this unfold, hearing my every thought. This was the day you'd join the world, and you knew I was "the one" to be your mom.
You knew you had to be a Leo (like Madonna!). You knew you had to be imperfect so I could love my own imperfections. You knew you had to be sensitive and compassionate for me to soften my edges. You knew you had to be fearless and full of adventure, so I could appreciate how liberating it is. You knew you had to talk A LOT, so much so that it would annoy me at times, so I could recognize my own mindless chatter. You knew you had to dislike shopping, pushing me to interact with you in deeper ways. You knew flipping upside down was a must, because I couldn't ignore my inner child. On this day, I was probably praying, as I always do, and you knew I was on a spiritual path, slowly awakening. And you picked me!

You came into my life (as all children do), to bring awareness to who I am, and continuously lead me towards my true being. You're my greatest awakener! You repeatedly mirror aspects of myself I want to improve. Thank you for silently encouraging me to step out of my comfort, so that you can be confident in exploring the unfamiliar as well. Thank you for your temperament, attitude, stubbornness, and intense personality....for all of it! No one has challenged me to look within myself more than you. Again, thank you!!
Yesterday, I suggested you fit in between a door frame for a picture. After 5 takes, you reviewed each picture and asked, "Is it perfect mommy?" You so wanted to please me. You're perfect for just being you. You taught me that.
My dear child, you don't need to seek validation externally. You earned the right to be loved exactly as you are.
My mission as your mom is to let go of any parenting tips I once read, and instead evolve into the parent YOU need me to be. Go out in this word a freethinker, a free spirit, an independent girl. May you continue to transform and grow from every circumstance life brings you.
When you were born, I believed you were an extension of me, but you are your own evolving spirit, growing and transforming daily. Today, more than ever, I celebrate you - every part of you! Thank you for choosing me.

Love always,
Your Mom

"Our children contribute to our growth in ways that are perhaps more profound than we can ever contribute to theirs." - Shefali Tsabary, PhD, from The Conscious Parent

Does Your Mother Know

In April of this year, Eric Paskel lost his brother. He eulogized his brother's life unlike any eulogy I've ever heard. With Mother's Day around the corner, I wanted to share the part he wrote for his Mom, on behalf of his brother Justin.

Mom: I so often gave you my worst because I knew I was safe with you. I know it wasn’t fair. But all of my yelling, all of the short temper was on me. Believe it or not, taking it out on you actually saved me many times from doing something more destructive to myself or others.You are the glue. You are our leader. You were my champion. No one has fought for another like you have fought for me. You did not make a single mistake. It was me making them.Do not feel responsible for my demons, my struggles. I wanted to tell you this so many times, but couldn’t. I loved you so deeply, it scared me. I felt so “seen” by you and I could not handle it.I wanted to. But know this, any ounce of comfort I felt in the world always was traced back to you. I heard your voice in my head daily and felt your love. I took advantage of that love in the wrong ways many times. But finally in the last few years, I took it in the right way and as physically sick as I was, I had never felt better. Please take that same love you gave me and give it to yourself.

As a Mom, and a daughter, these words hold a heavy truth. We're vulnerable with the ones we feel safe with. We expose our shadows because we know we'll always be loved, no matter what. Does your Mother know how scared you are to be "seen"? Does your Mother know that she's not responsible for your choices? Does your Mother know that her phone calls comfort you? Does your Mother know that she makes you feel safe enough to give her your worst?
My Mom and I have a mirrored relationship. I often see myself in her actions. I don't think she knows how alike we really are. Sometimes I'm bothered by her shadows, because I inherited those too. I can make her my punching bag or a cuddly teddy on the same day.

Mama & Me

As Mothers, we have this ability to "see" our children right through to their soul. With my children, I can sense their temperature rise or their tears form before they even manifest. Even when we lose our sensitivity chip, and say or do some nasty shit, we know our Moms will never abandon us. Maybe someday my children will reciprocate, and hopefully they'll feel my capacity to love them despite what they've done or who they've chosen to become. After all, we chose our Moms and our children chose us. Sometimes I wonder what I was looking for in a Mother, before conception. The criteria for my Mom must've began with a non-negotiable list of  -  hot temper and warm heart, big smile and bigger personality! As for my kids, they must've started their wish list with - fun with a hint of crazy, and must provide an abundance of strong hugs and soggy smooches.
On this Mother's Day, tell your Mom the truth about what she means to you. If you have children, ask them why they chose you....should make for a very interesting brunch convo. And on Sunday, make sure your Mother knows. Love big Mamas, but don't forget to give some to yourself!

Love Letter

This is a letter I wrote on Valentine's day, but never posted. I wrote this to myself because the longest relationship I will ever have in this lifetime, is the one with myself. I think this letter deserves to be shared as a reminder for your capacity to love yourself. This is for YOU. Hold space for your own feelings about yourself. May the words land in your heart, xo

My Dear Love,

Happy Valentine's Day! I just want you to remember that you are loved. I will not love you more if you send me flowers. I will love you for your kindness, for your capacity to give without expectations, for your trust, and for being true to yourself. Thank you for accepting me as a warrior, as well as a worrier.
I will love you for your company that requires few words. I will love you despite your poor judgement, no filter, and sharp tongue. Sometimes I will be too much to bare and other times you will crave my free spirit. I will suggest when it's time to dust your aura. I will poke when I see you decorating your pain. I will remind you that ever tear you shed is the most healing water of all.
I will cradle you like the best book I have ever read.
I will turn up the music to remind you to dance. I will watch you slowly take down your masks to reveal your true self. I will encourage you to take risks. I will forgive you when you feel shame or guilt. And when faith starts to fade, I will point out the light of the moon. I will whisper when you need to take your eyes off the rear view mirror and look forward.
I will give you time to unlearn all the stuff the world has hardened you with. I will speak up for you when you lose your voice. When your teacher tells me you are too hot to handle, I will fan your flame. I will never allow you to conform to a cookie-cutter code of conduct. I want you to be proud of your uniqueness. I will watch you fail, cheer you on, and tell you that you are lit as fuck!
I will encourage you to be unafraid to write the truth, even when you are terrified by it. I will push you through your fears to cultivate courage. I will guide you to transform every obstacle into your greatest life lesson. I will crack your heart open so you can own your story. Because, oh my God, I will not have you wake up in your semi-retired life, with regret for the opportunities you never took. You will not let fear win. No one will bring you joy before you do. You will not live this one life waiting, regretting, doubting, dieting, apologizing because in a year from now, nothing will be the same. So tonight, when you count your miracles, I will remind you to include yourself.

I love you,
always and forever.

The Dirty Truth

Growing through dirt

Would you believe that I died more than once? I just died a few seconds again this morning! I keep having this dangerous conversation with myself about going for a run. Could you believe I'm afraid of running? Yup, I just said it. It's actually surprising because I've mastered running late or even running away from my inner voice that whispers, "Yes, you can". But this morning, when every excuse not to run, won, I died a little.
I'm a lousy runner. Don't be fooled by my small, fit frame. I have no endurance, which is one reason I suck at running. I'll be ten minutes in and just when I might pass out, I talk myself into walking instead, and then I feel defeated. So to avoid feeling inadequate, I don't even bother lacing up my kicks. Today, that's the fear that won. Other days, it could be anything from avoiding an uncomfortable conversation with someone, or resisting something that requires a thread of bravery. See how we can die a few seconds each day? When you step away from an opportunity that requires an ounce of courage, your soul just flat lined.
Think of all those times you got tangled up in your bullshit story, giving center stage to your ego. Your "what ifs, why me, I can't, not good enough, not meant to be..." are stabbing away at your soul every single time. This is how we miss out on what's really happening, what's really being said, and what's really being felt. We'd rather not go there. We get comfortable sitting in our dirt, hoping for sun, yet trying to grow without rain. I know it can get terribly ugly down there. Life can curl you up in darkness and it can comfort you with light. So are growing or dying a little today?
If you're on autopilot, just coasting through life, ask yourself, what brings you joy? It shouldn't be that hard to name the things that make you happy. Sometimes it can be though. We're either too afraid to name them or sadly, we spend so much energy giving joy to others, we don't even know what makes us happy. Wanna know what brings me joy? Talking, writing, sharing. One day (because I'm still choosing to die a little until then) I'll walk across the stage of Place des Arts, with a mic in one hand and a bag of dirt in the other. Unlike Gabby Bernstein or the late Dr. Wayne Dyer, my talk will offer something different. Everyone will receive a bag of dirt (insert copyright here) at the entrance. My event will be called 'The Dirty Truth' (copyright that too) whereby I'll encourage everyone to go home, bury a seed in their dirt, and watch how painfully slow it'll grow. This experiment serves as an observation of our growing pains. Some seeds will barely crack through the surface, while others will be in full bloom. And since you won't see the evolution of your neighbour's seed, you'll be spared the 'comparison' stab.
I can promise you one thing for sure - I'm going to run this spring. Maybe even tomorrow. I'm going to run because I know how amazing I'll feel afterwards. Just like life. I'll face pain, suffer somewhat, feel defeated, but nonetheless, the kicks will come on despite my dead-weight thoughts. I refuse to let that weight choke the joy out of my life, killing me slowly. Will you run with me? Will you run to the things that bring you joy? Will you ask for rain so you can grow a little stronger? Will you push yourself to sprout? Will you share your dirty truth? At least share it with yourself?
This is my dirty truth. I'm scared to run. I don't like to fly. I'll spend two hours deciphering food labels, but still leave the grocery store with a box of Nutella donuts. I'll meditate for fifteen minutes and yell at my kids for ten. I'll tell you to speak your truth but lose my voice when it's my turn. I'll look like a marathon runner, but walk most of the run. That's some of my dirt and I'm OK with burying myself in it, but I won't let myself die there too. Death comes in so many ways, but I never realized that I died as much as I have. Death isn't tragic. What's tragic is dying with our magical seeds still in us.
I'm going for a run today. I just decided. Even if it's only ten minutes (aim low and surprise yourself)! And it doesn't really matter if I don't ever make it on the stage of Place des Arts. But what a shame it would be if I dulled my sparkle, stopped feeling safe to be myself, or got so caught up in big dreams that I missed the small miracles. May you all find comfort in your dirt, and commit to growing despite how dark it gets. Oh and I learned a thing or two about gardening. Once you plant your seeds, you're challenged with weeds, pests, and diseases. Ironically, weeds are inevitable, which is okay - so long as they don't start chocking out your plants. Water your seeds, not your weeds! Now go celebrate your dirty truth! Don't forget to LIVE, forGIVE, do what you LOVE, so when you die a little, you're not choked by your weeds.

Magic Matt

Image from 'Help Save Matthew' FB pg

I never met Matthew Schreindorfer, but I'll always remember him. The news of his passing today still hasn't settled in. We worried this day might come, but never thought it actually would. Call me an optimist, but I think I was just more hopeful than anything else. I believed, we all believed, that he would overcome his diagnosis. He had over 13K Facebook fans following his story, encouraging him through every treatment. We all prayed, offered words of comfort, and supported him throughout his journey. We all hoped for a different outcome; a happy ending.
We fell in love with Matt, and his wife Katia, when they first shared their story on social media. They were high school sweethearts and newlyweds who traded 'happily ever after' for 'never ever give up'. After exhausting all possible leukemia treatments in Canada, Matt's only option to stay alive was raising a six-figure sum, for treatments in the US. Needless to say their story generated an overwhelming outpouring of support, helping them raise enough money for treatments abroad, which saved his life. As Matt continued his recovery, he never forgot to check in with his fans. He would keep us updated on his progress regularly. When he announced he needed further treatments, we continued to pray and offer donations. He never lost his sense of humour despite how many needles poked him on any given day. We followed his journey, 'liking' his posts so he knew we were there. And yet the majority of us didn't even know him personally. That's how special 'Magic Matt' was. His mom mentioned today that she was his chef throughout his fight. I think she poured so much love in his meals, that his charm and infectious smile stole our hearts.
We all know someone who has battled an incurable disease. Each one of them fought their battle with outstanding courage and the willingness to live longer. He was no different, yet we all felt somewhat a part of his story. We wanted him to win so badly! We wanted Katia to go from captain to partner. We wanted them to smile forever. I think the reason we fell in love with Matt was because he reached out to strangers, shared his trials and triumphs, and despite the odds, he committed to fight by undergoing hundreds of blood transfusions, countless tests and way more details we were spared. Moreover he was the poster child for Hope.
As I tried to make sense of my sadness for this complete stranger (that I better meet in my next life!), I realized that he gave me and thousands of others hope that THIS time cancer wouldn't win. He gave me hope that 'never ever giving up' is the mantra that would guide me through any challenge. He gave me hope that the human spirit is resilient, that we're never alone, and strangers will help you when you ask. As my tears hit my keyboard, I'm reminded that our beacon of hope has transitioned. I think that's why we're all struck with grief. Our broken hearts are asking how someone with such a strong will to live, could have their life cut short at only 27 years young. And then there's Katia, who never left his side.
I wish this story had the fairy tale ending it deserved. I ask myself what made Matthew so likeable? Sure he was easy on the eyes, seemed kind, gracious, and authentic throughout his journey. But I think Matt never allowed life to harden his heart. His courage was remarkable. Because of his experience, he took on a personal task to bring unavailable treatments to Canada. He touched so many strangers that a song, socks, and shirts were even created on his behalf. He was the lighthouse for anyone fighting an illness. He inspired thousands of us to 'keep on keepin' on' no matter what we were going through in our lives. Don't we all wish we could have an impact on the lives of strangers the same way as Matt? How about we try! Honouring a life is taking all the beautiful qualities that touched you and sharing them with the world. If the thousands of us that Matthew touched so deeply, would go out into the world with his contagious love for life, the world would be sweeter.
Thank you for inspiring us to open our hearts, love big, ask for support, smile even for a second during hardships, and never lose hope - because your journey has touched more lives than you'll ever know. Sending love and light to Matthew's family. May they heal knowing that his name and story will never be forgotten. Namaste.

Everyday Miracles

Miracle Moment

On Thursday, my 5 year old son returned home with his nap blanket, one day earlier than usual. When I asked him why, he hesitated for a while and then told me he shared it with his friend, Sandra. The following morning I received the most moving email from his teacher explaining the story behind the blanket.
During relaxation period, Damiano (my son) preferred to finish some work instead of taking a nap. Meanwhile, his classmate Sandra was feeling particularly cold that day, so he offered her his wool blanket. After he finished his work, he decided to check if Sandra was warm, and what happened next will melt your heart. He lay down by her side and wrapped his arm around her to ensure she'd stay warm (insert proud mama moment here). I'm sharing this story because that same night, I was reading a powerful book that said, "God very often plays man. God will do nothing without man and whenever He works a miracle it is always done through man." As much as I can claim my son to be compassionate and kind, I believe God came through him in that act. The relationship between the two of them isn't always blissful, which is why I give credit to God.
Sandra is a special child. She was born with an allergy to light and most recently was diagnosed colour blind. Needless to say, the two diagnostics combined make her unique. Damiano and Sandra are far from being best friends. Their relationship includes sharing, playing, bickering, and plenty of arguing. Yet on that day, something deep within his soul unlocked. He brought His light to comfort her, to keep her warm. Ironic that although she may be averse to light, the greatest comfort was being warmed by His light. The cutest part of this story was the picture I received as proof that this did indeed happen. Notice his arm hugging her.
As a habitual hugger, I feel that a hug is socially underestimated. The most powerful exchange of energy between an adult and child, is a hug. With the vibration of heartbeats and the quality of our breathing, we can feel the present state of another human being. If the heart beats quickly and the breath is shallow, you know you gotta squeeze a little tighter.  I call this particular hug a "lemon squeeze". It whispers, "Be at ease. I am here for you." Sadly, most of us don't consider a hug that special. But let me tell you a secret. There's power in softening someone's edge with a lemon squeeze.
Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we're taught that being strong means being hard. Well here's some 2017 breaking news - soft is the new strong! Show your children the value in softness. It requires much less effort for light to shine through a glass window than a brick wall. It also requires much less effort to be vulnerable than guarded. At a time in the world where our sense of security is constantly being discussed, I urge you to let go of some apprehension. There are 7 billion people in the world, most of which offer miracles every minute, yet we sensationalize evil acts instead.
The story of my son is simply an everyday miracle that most would overlook. I felt the need to share because I was deeply moved by this miracle. It gave me hope for anyone with a disability, that there are people who'll look past your condition to connect with your soul. And for all humanity, know that you can choose to be hard on yourself and others, or you can courageously soften, so you can warm others with your light. Go out into the world today with love on your sleeve, miracles on your mind, and the possibility that through your softness, God will come through. Stay soft, but hug hard!

My Rise to 40

Rise, Fall, Repeat

In ten days, I'll be 40 and I'm just beginning to learn how to live! Slow learner? Maybe, maybe not. Most people breathe their entire lives in autopilot, alive, but not living. I can understand that because I was once that person. I was that girl you'd meet that would ignore your name. I'd avoid eye contact in case you saw my truth before I would. I'd recite the best quotes in hope that each word would land on my soul. I was ready to help you, because it helped me too. I encouraged you to stop avoiding, because I was avoiding. And while I inspired you to be happy, I was choosing the opposite. Maybe I helped strengthen your faith in the unknown, which gave me the courage to do the same.
A little over a week ago, I tapped into that courage as I embarked on the most important journey of my life: the journey of my own awakening. I was called to travel to an unknown place, sit with strangers and together, we'd fall apart and rebuild ourselves. Why would anyone want to do that, you wonder? In my case, a whisper was tugging at my curiosity and poking at my fear. And let's be honest, curiosity and fear are essential ingredients for personal transformation. So I registered for an uncomfortable weekend to sit with my suffering (my fears, attachments, frustrations, stress, anger, judgement, criticism, fatigue, blame, and the victim I created). All these years, I thought I was doing that work, but instead I discovered that it wasn't work that needed to be done, but rather release.
My experience transformed my way of thinking, of believing, of being. I sat inside my castle and began removing decades of dust off all my precious gifts. One by one, I made peace with every wound. I stood before 'my family' of strangers and listed everything I was letting go of. I released my illusion of 'who' I was that I attached to a career that made me feel validated and powerful. I let go of my fear of the unknown that held me back from living, and I let go of my past relationship that made me doubt my self-worth. In order to rise again, I had to make peace with my past.
Last year, at this time, I was optimistic that 2016 would bring more growth and self-reflection. It has been a wild year of uncertainty, truth, and awakening. I have no idea what the new year will bring, but what I do know is that I'm unafraid of the unknown. I dumped that fear in Lac Brome last week! I also know that great change is upon us. What has changed in me this year is my attitude towards myself and others. I'm not interested in the mundane anymore. I want soul-connecting conversation so when you walk away from me, you feel rather than forget.
I don't care where you work or what you do. Were you kind today? I don't care where you studied. What have you learned today? I don't care who you married. How great do you love? I don't care what cookies you baked for your kid's class. Did you hug them after school? I don't care how much money you have. Are you happy?
I may have met you once, but forgotten. Or perhaps we've brushed shoulders at a restaurant or sat a row apart on an airplane. I probably judged you or compared my patience to yours. Maybe you know me personally, in which case we've shared a hug. I probably didn't squeeze as tight as I would today. Now, I'd take the time to hear the quality of your breathing to know how you're feeling. I'd squeeze a little tighter to show you I'm present. And maybe that hug might soften your edge. No matter what relationship we may have, I hope I remember to smile and say hello.
This being my last post of 2016 - the end of the Aquarian Age and the end of my thirties, I want to thank life for all of it. For every single person that has crossed my path, unrolled their mat beside me in a yoga class, or smiled at me, thank you for your presence. I recognize myself in all of you. After my 'fall to rise' experience, I want to remind you to LIVE. You can continue life resisting and struggling against it, or you can shatter to set yourself free. I hope you fall, so you can put yourself back together, and rise to meet life in all its beauty. I hope you never lose faith in humanity, as we're all the same. I can only see in you what I'm able to recognize within myself. My message of hope for 2017 is that each individual can fall in love with themselves and accept every piece of who they are. The world needs your light in megawatts. Fall, shatter, rise to shine, and LIVE!

The Untold Truth of Failing the Entrance Exam

As many sixth graders are beginning to write high school entrance exams, I can feel their stress. I still get knots in my stomach thinking back to my time. There I was, sitting at a cafeteria table, feeling so small, struggling to get to the last question. Although I never opted for private school - especially an all-girls one, I had to follow in my sister's footsteps. 

The pressure was thick and even though I didn't want to spend the next five years there, my path was predetermined. Or at least it was, until that cold day when the "accepted or rejected" letter landed on my doorstep. My predetermined path just got hit with a road block! I was REJECTED! I know. You're shocked, right?! Well I can't say I was shocked since I didn't put the effort, but I knew this was bad. I was bad. I was bad for not making the cut. 

With my sister already an honour student at the school, my parents refused to accept my non-acceptance and rallied to get me in. From sending flowers and chocolates to letters of recommendation from my teacher, I was finally given the stamp of approval. But through the emotions of a twelve year old, this is how it played out in my head: "You're not good enough. You don't deserve to be there. You'll never survive. You better NEVER tell anyone you weren't accepted or you'll be labelled the outcast." Those were the words I mentally repeated for the next twelve months. Did my parents make a mistake to push so hard? Would my ego have been spared had I just been sent to public school? What did this experience really teach me?

My parents rallied to get me in because they knew I was good enough. Had they taken the rejection with ease and put me in a public school, I wouldn't have been spared the pain of rejection. That experience taught me valuable life lessons that marked me for life. For the first six months of school, I kept a low profile because I felt like an inadequate imposter. As my parents reinforced their belief in me, I came out of my shell. I broke through my self-judgement, vowing to make my years matter. 

I went on to be class president for three years and on class council the other two. I was winning public speaking and debating competitions. I trained hard to finish a 5 km race; despite thinking I lacked discipline and perseverance. My parents may have fought for my spot, but I made sure to leave my mark. I challenged the status quo and encouraged my peers to think outside the box. My fondest memory was dressing as a condom (inspired by Madonna) for Halloween....in a school run by nuns! It wasn't long before I stood out, wanting to be remembered as the girl who always spoke up, preferred to lead rather than follow, and never accepted defeat without even trying. 

To all the parents riding this roller coaster, you need to know that your children are still developing their self-esteem. The results of these exams matter. They matter to them, to you, and they matter because we all want to be good enough and accepted. The take away from all of this is that no matter the results, your children need to be reassured that they are loved no matter what and their results will not define their level of enough. Each child will pave their path their way. We're there to supply the encouragement that no matter how uneven or bumpy their path will be, we love it just the same. You can fight for your kids, like my parents did. You can reinforce that you believe in their abilities. You can be their loudest cheerleader. What happens now will mark them forever, but how YOU respond can scar them. So be gentle, speak with compassion. And for the parents with honour roll kids who'll be accepted in every school, your reaction matters just as much. Celebrate their accomplishments, but always bring the message back to love. If one day they do fail (because they will), they'll know you love them just the same. Because while accolades can define your intelligence, how you love and feel loved, holds the highest honour.

I didn't get accepted into private school, yet I was successful once I was there. To all the twelve year olds on this journey, including our inner child, remember that these results, "accepted or rejected" will not define who you are or who you'll become. The fact that you're showing up to even write these exams is huge! From my experience, I know this for sure: your toughest competition is yourself and always will be. Only you can really accept yourself before anyone else and you're loved just as you are. Keep shining your light!

For the Subbanator

Dear P.K.,
You've been in Montreal long enough to know that it's Canada's hockey capital. Playing hockey here is a prestigious honour, until you have a bad season. When that happens, everyone becomes a critic, and no player is spared. But I could care less about the game.
I'm writing today about your off-ice personality. As you know, you're by far the best marketed player on the team. You're young, talented, charismatic (still in debate), with a pretty substantial social media following. With that heightened awareness, paired with living in the Hollywood of hockey, you're clearly idolized!
So, when you were spotted out at a popular restaurant yesterday afternoon, you'd assume there'd be fans. Although no one was bothering you, we were happy to see you. After all, you're the guy that brings so much joy to kids and we've got kids! That being said, we had no intention of behaving like groupies. However when we saw you sitting casually, staring at your phone, we thought it'd be a good opportunity to approach you. My friend's eight year old son, who's a diehard fan, was anxiously waiting to see you through Facetime. When we came closer, asking you to simply say 'hi' to her son, you lifted your arm up, clearly disinterested. Needless to say, we were shocked. We understand you want your privacy and when the cameras are off, so are you. But perhaps you missed the fine print when you signed on to be part of this historical organization; you always have to be 'on' for kids.
The Habs are glorified in this city. Every player is admired and adored by fans, especially children. While you were staring at your phone, perhaps researching brand-building tactics, you failed to meet the expectations of a mom and her child. After she pleaded for you to simply greet her visibly eager son on Facetime, you just waved and turned away. Clearly, it was your day off! No media was present, your PR team was on break, and you were uninterested in giving ten seconds of joy to a huge fan.
Expectations are the root of all heartache, yet as fans, we can't deny our excitement when we see players. You're more than oversized skaters with a number on a jersey. To fans, especially children, you're heroes. You give them hope that any goal is achievable and that off the ice, you really do care. Needless to say, you left a mom bruised with disappointment in your reaction (or lack of) towards her son.
In my opinion, the PK Subban brand is overrated. The fact remains that a hockey player is also a public figure. Every smile, wave, autograph is equally as valuable as scoring a winning goal. I'm not sure what was going in your life that day, but if you were having a bad one, you still needed to show your game face. Acknowledging a kid with a smile, a wave and possibly echoing his name, was all we hoped for. Do you not see the worth in your branding power? To sustain your brand value, I suggest you pause your social media feed, look in the mirror, and reboot your human chip.
Perhaps we're at fault for investing financially and emotionally in your brand, losing sight of the inconvenient truth that you're simply that - a brand. Your social media content holds evidence that you're motivated to help sick children. Those very posts are what touch parents and children alike, making you a hero. Yet after our confrontation yesterday, I agree with the comment you made in your Valentine's Day video, "Too much love for one person." I'm not sure you're so deserving of all this love, given your weak return policy. Hoping that the next fan is spared the same disappointment, I leave you with this simple truth:

 



As a yoga practitioner, I can't end on this sour note. I believe there is light within all of us and yesterday, yours was dim. My intention in writing today isn't to piss you off, start shaming you, or open the platform to hate messages. My intention is to simply bring light to the fact that your actions hold much more significance than you may care to know. Be kind...that's what makes a true all-star.

Namaste,
Marisa

Solidarité

Symbol created by artist Jean Jullien

Solidarité. What does that mean? The Webster dictionary defines is as "a feeling of unity between people who have the same interests, goals, etc.". Judging by my recent Facebook feed, 98% of my friends' statuses, represents solidarité. But again, what does that mean?
During my four day yoga conference, this past weekend, I was in a cocoon. I bypassed the news, literally missing the latest terrorist attacks in Paris. While most of you were watching CNN or your FB feed, I was watching myself. From yoga classes to inner peace lectures, I was observing my monkey mind, my resistance to the uncomfortable, my fears, my reactivity. I felt the tension in my body, from the stories I've produced over the years. I embraced my shadow and prayed, in solidarité.
Together, we listened to our guru, Seane Corn, lead us in a prayer. With heavy hearts, we committed to these words:"May this practice be an opportunity for healing, awakening and remembrance to occur body, mind, and spirit. May I be released from any limited belief that is blocking me from stepping into my power. Transform my resistance into surrender, my reactivity into understanding, my judgment into patience, my fear into faith. May this faith carry me forward on my path with an open heart, embracing all that I experience along the way, as guidance for my ever evolving soul. May this practice be blessed and my the vibration held in all our hearts be offered outward as a unified prayer for peace." And as those words were spoken, we had no idea that somewhere in the world, hate stole time.
As I watch the news, read posts online, I'm reminded, again, that we just don't get it! As French flags are appearing everywhere, did you ask yourself, 'What is my contribution to all this hate in our world?' If you haven't, then that flag, possibly draping over your profile picture, means nothing. If you believe that your daily actions have no relevance to acts of hate, then nothing will change. Just for the record, I'm including myself when I say 'we'. I take full responsibility for my reactivity on a daily basis and feel accountable (to some extent) for what is happening in the world. It's not 'us' vs. 'them'. When we insult, verbally abuse, bully, make racial remarks, we're simply feeding hate.
As the rest of the world, 'unites' (in support of what, I'm not sure), with demonstrations and protests, I'd like to remind you that hate crimes have existed before my time. The Holocaust killed 11  million people, 1.1 million were children and 6 million were Jews. And what about the Armenian, Rwandan, Bosnian Genocides? Lest we forget Montreal's experience with hate, the École Polytechnique massacre, over 25 years ago. So again, I ask you, what is your contribution? We need to start taking accountability for the hate, anger, greed, jealousy, envy, entitlement that we put out into the world every day. Turn the CNN cameras on your life and observe how you react towards yourself and others.
This may be my most controversial post to date, but after a week-end of pulling off the veil to see my truth, I recognize that I'm part of the problem. Time to acknowledge our shadows, so we may find comfort in knowing that we're all in this together. As I once read, "all it takes for evil to succeed, is for good to do nothing". Do something. Start by looking at yourself. Once you can own up to your reactivity, your prejudices, your abuse, then we can stand in solidarité.

Flight Unknown, Now Boarding

We all have a plan with expectations. From career path, to love life, to family structure, we subconsciously create a story of how our life will unfold. But what happens when the plan fails and our expectations take a nose dive?

Lately, I've been hearing sad stories about expectations going terribly wrong. Whether it be a bad divorce, a sick child, or another disease, each story leads towards the unexpected. Never, did any of these people expect these realities to become their own. Though they think they’re in it alone, I'm on a path, alongside theirs, and yours.
Our life plan is similar to travelling. You choose a destination (aka, your goal), but there are no direct flights. You're given a travel itinerary that has you stuck in long lay overs, with connections to cities you never knew existed. Just when you take off, you're preparing to land. And when you're on a 14 hour flight with turbulence, you pray to get off. The lay overs are similar to our comfort zone. We feel safe because nothing much is happening. We're simply waiting for the next 'flight'. But if the last experience was traumatic, we'd rather skip the next flight and linger in our comfort. Ironically though, to discover the wonders of the world, you've got to get on that 14 hour, bumpy ride.
So is your plan manifesting to your liking? Are you in 'lay over' mode? Or, are you living the unexpected life? I'm not a fan of flying, so where does that leave me? Well I'm creative, so I find alternative solutions to get to my destination. I'm also living in the moment, so my progress is much slower. When I mapped out my life plan, my pace was fast with no room for delays. Until one day the unexpected happened. I was forced to stop, sit, and wait. Stop the speed, sit with my shadow and wait for the light. My expectations disappointed me in the best way possible. My journey went from the Eiffel Tower to four walls and a yoga mat. On that mat, I discovered that first class was nice, but the last row was enlightening.
To those suffering because their plan failed, I share this. You’re not your story. You’re not your divorce, or 'not enough'; you’re not your disease or your anger and guilt, or your sadness or resentment. You're a soul. Your path diverted into the unknown, but your soul remains the same. The sadness, anger, guilt, resentment are feelings in your story, but they're not who you are. You're simply a soul experiencing life. You suffer and I suffer, in my own way. So forget the story, and see the soul! 
We're all travelling to different destinations, at our own pace. And like the tortoise and the hare, we get fooled by the competition. What we fail to understand is that we're all in the same race, heading towards our own finish line. Our ego taunts us to look at the one's running at a pace we can't maintain. And we feel defeated and shamed when we slow down, because we expected differently. Instead of thinking, 'I hope we all make it!’ we mentally sabotage ourselves with comparison and ideals.
As you read this, slow down, notice your breath. Stop and sit. Life is the best gift we can ever receive. Welcome whatever turbulence you're experiencing along your journey. Accept and acknowledge that you're allowed to have bad days. Know though, that those are the moments you're furthest from God. Keep those days few and far between. I may not know your suffering, but I know what suffering feels like. Through my own darkness, I still believe that even in the last row, life is good. And even more comforting is recognizing that first class and coach land at the same time. So we're all travelling together. Different destinations with different views. What matters is that we both scored a seat on an overbooked plane.
I wish us all a trip that keeps us close to God, with trust in the process of life. To those who get lost along the way, due impart to derailed expectations, you're not alone. So here's to the honest truth: "Life is amazing and then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful." -LR Knost

                                                                                                     

 

Bruised But Not Broken

High 5 to that!

In grade six I signed up for a talent show. I was up against my good friend, Laura. I still remember my outfit, inspired by famous track runner, Flo-Jo. I also still remember how I felt when I heard the principal announcing Laura as the winner. I was sad, disappointed, and pissed off at Laura (her performance was better).  That same year we held federal elections within our grade. I was selected, along with two boys to represent one of the three federal parties. I was runner up to the Liberal leader. Again, I experienced loss, felt just not good enough, sad, and disappointed. What I didn't know then was that I accepted these challenges because I believed in myself. Instead I dwelled in loss, sadness, disappointment.
Elementary school had its highs. When I wasn't busy chasing boys, I'd be helping my 3rd grade teacher, Miss Rita. She wasn't your average teacher. She saw God in all 28 of us, even when we were disruptive, rude, or being obnoxious nine year olds. Our spirit never forgets those that sparked a light within us and also remembers the ones that blew it out. Lest we forget my science teacher, telling my parents he couldn't believe I shared the same genes as my brainy sister (his version was candy-coated).
Funny, when I reflect on my life, I easily recall the moments that wounded my spirit. The people who believed in my abilities are unforgettable, yet the ones who didn't, hold the same space. Every experience has made me who I am - kind and compassionate; angry and sad. The truth is we become a product of our highs and lows, the compliments and the criticism. This is why we are the way we are. You may wonder why your life isn't working the way you want, but life doesn't work for you, it RESPONDS to you.
Every single human being knows sadness, anger, fear, loss, shame, emptiness, joy, love.  We've all tapped into these feelings via different circumstances. The path may be different, but it has bumps, hills, pot holes and long stretches of smooth road. The stories change from one person to another, but the FEELINGS are the same.
Life isn't a competition of good and bad times, or kind and mean words. We're all in this together. The only difference  is how we choose to navigate through our life path. I know that my childhood bruises are within me today, but they haven't broken my spirit. The beauty of life is in the fine print: 'You will be bruised but not broken'. No matter what 'your story' (disease, abuse, addiction, infidelity, loss, abandonment...), give yourself permission to FEEL. Allow your emotions to live; acknowledge that something significant has gone wrong.
I started writing this post with another idea, but somehow it took a different direction. Nonetheless, I won't change how it started, knowing full well that it was meant to begin in childhood, when I got my first bruise.
I came to remind you today that your life is just a story. You can choose to make it a best seller or you can write the draft and never go to the print. All of it won't matter, except how you feel with your choice.

Namaste.
photo credit: zsazsabellagio.blogspot.ca

First Grade Funk

Syllable Sonata Vol. 1

Dear God, please help me during this painful time of homework. Where there is anger, let me be calm. Where there are mistakes, make me pardon. Where there is impatience, let me breathe. Where there is despair, give me hope. Where there is darkness, let me see light.
"Mmmmmm-aaaaaaaaa. Mmmmmmm-ooooooooo, ooooooooooo-uuuuuuuuu, ooooooo-iiiiiiii". Thanks to these French syllables, I may need botox earlier than anticipated. My mornings start with repeats of syllables while in traffic. As soon as we get home from school, I break out, in what could make a bestselling learning jam of, MA-MO-MI-OU-OI-TU-TA-TÉ. At this point, I'm thinking of creating a mix of these two-letter sounds, featuring Nicki Minaj in the background. My daughter would be fist-pumping these syllables in no time.
I heard first grade was tough, but I never thought it would awaken such anger and frustration. First, it's a big adjustment for kids, given that they spend most of their day sitting in front of a desk. That's a challenge in itself. Then they come home with words to rehearse for testing at the end of the week. Now, if these words were sung by Katy Perry, Chloe would be busting out in song all day 'n night. Somehow though, when I sing them, she just looks at me with blank eyes and deaf ears.
Last week, I wondered, "should I have just sent her to English school?" Of course, as a Mom, the first place you hit up for blame is yourself. Your child is struggling one month in to school, so you panic. Being the resourceful chic that I am, I start to search all these educationally "fun" websites for inspiration on how to get her mojo going. I made q-cards with cute pictures thinking she'll definitely get it now. And then I ask her to write two letters - just two, and she looks at me as though I went from French to Chinese.
I must be doing something wrong! In my defense, I never applied to teach  prèmiere année. Not only do I have to re-take first grade (en Francais) but I have to sit in silence (ya right!) as she guesses, "dessine", when I'm holding up the word "colorie". And then I break out in syllable song - "ddddeeeessssssssssiiiiiinnnnneeee". Blank look, deaf ears, take two. Where is my first grade emergency kit that includes: gin, cucumber slices, and ice??
I truly hope a recording artist lands on this post, gets inspired and asks Selena Gomez to create a mash-up of syllables in vibrato. I may not have mastered in teaching primary school, but I did graduate in marketing. Why hasn't anyone thought of doing this??  Until that breakthrough manifests, I'm back to designing my own "examine de lecture". Are all you Moms doing this? Are your kids breezing through 'et' vs 'est'? If not, then where is our support group? Why does my inbox not have an invite to a 'First Grade Freak Out Session'? I mustn't be alone here. I'm losing my cool almost every night. I'm not sure if she just doesn't get it or if our expectations are just too high. But before you comment that 'it'll get better', 'hang in there', I'd like to acknowledge that I'm disappointed in our educational direction. Is it really so valuable to a six year old child's, developing self-esteem, to be able to recognize the word, 'souligne'? I know adults who can't spell that word! So as I'm belting away my own little version of syllable beats in French, deep down I'm hoping my daughter isn't taking any of her mistakes to heart.
Chloe, one day you'll read this, so I want you to know that I never expected (or secretly hoped), you'd be soaring through prèmiere année. All I really want is for you to try your best in everything you do, regardless of the result. Not all work is fun, but whatever you do learn, will contribute to your growth and how you react throughout the process, will become your best teacher.
To all the parents with a strong desire to see their child succeed, I hear your screams. I recognize your effort, impatience, and dedication to stay the course. May the academic force be with us as we stumble through the school year with humility and compassion for our children, as well as all teachers.