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