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.

I Wish I Could Call in Sick

Three pairs of socks and two polos later, she still struggles with her morning outfit. But wait! She wears a uniform and she now has ten minutes for breakfast, hair, and hygiene. And since she's a girl, hair consumes half of our morning ritual. "Make my ponytail tighter! Put another elastic. It's too high! No, it's too low! Wait, I see a "bosse" (bump)! Redo it."
Four hair elastics later, I'm wondering if she's getting enough oxygen to her brain. When she jets off, slamming the door behind her, I'm reassured that indeed there's no interrupted flow of oxygen, hence her behaviour is on point!
Mornings at my house come with an advisory - thunder with chances of life-threatening lightning. There's a lot of noise: deep breathing, sighs, whining, and when everyone is at snail pace, there's screaming. When I tell my daughter she just lost a privilege for slamming the door, she tells me she won't hug me at the school gate. And when I tell her she's lucky she even has a mom, she tells me, "I have Daddy and Nonna". Where did I go wrong? What did I eat during the nine months that she was developing? Why am I failing at motherhood? I wish I could call in sick!
We all have those days, when we look at our kids, wondering if we were accidentally slipped acid during pregnancy. Who is this little being with a sharp tongue and eyes of blame? I won't go down the "When I was a kid..." path, but heck I know for sure I wasn't lippy with my mom at six years old. Needless to say, I was eager to drop her off at school today. I felt guilty (30 seconds) that her day was starting in a bad mood, but that was her choice. I know she's only six, but while I'm at work, I'm sure she's taking extra classes on manipulation.
The reason why I'm actually sharing this info, is because I've been on mommy blogs like, "Hands Free Mama" and "The Orange Rhino -365 day challenge of no yelling" to improve at this job. Oh yes, I've got my resources for improvement all highlighted in my favorites. Suddenly, instead of thinking "I love watching you play", I'm thinking, "I love watching you go to school for 8 hours". And then I read how yelling shuts down communication (however, my girl fights for the last word). Or how "nothing changes until you do". Ouch! When do we catch a break?
To all you moms out there who can relate to the frustrations of raising a child, that makes you work overtime without pay, let's hug it out in cyberspace. This morning my thoughts were filled with a list of whys and whats. I still ask why I can't seem to manage her behaviour or what I'm doing wrong. We want our kids to reflect back what we give them - love, support, compassion; not yelling or impatience.  Of course when they yell or lose patience with us, we'd rather ignore them or pretend they're not ours.
I'm not trying to achieve a standard of perfection in parenting. I don't believe that exists. All I want is a child who'll give me a hug even when they don't feel it's deserved. But most importantly I want my child to listen without fighting for the last word. As a mom, you try to build a relationship with your daughter that's fun, unconventional, and easy, but that's unrealistic. This recipe is far more complicated than a vegan lasagna. No one said motherhood was easy, nor did it claim that we'd understand that they're exactly the person they're supposed to be. "And that, if you're lucky, she just might be the teacher who turns you into the person you're supposed to be". Some reflection required.
Thanks for stumbling along with me as I navigate through mothership without a helmet. Let's all smile, laugh a little, and admit we'd like to call in sick some days.

Listen




Seven Chakras - your gateway to self-discovery

It's been too long since we last spoke. Actually I spoke and you listened. I'm beginning to think that part of the reason my throat chakra is still derailed, is because I miss being listened to, by you. You're far more than simply a reader to me. You're my platform where I can share all my worries, celebrate achievements, bitch about my ego, all in hope that I have helped a single soul feel better.
Over the past three years, I've developed this desire to help anyone wishing to deepen their relationship with themselves. Through teaching yoga, I'm also satisfying a need to be needed by others. I began writing this blog out of boredom and curiosity. Who would read? What would they think? How would they feel? I kept this blog as my diary to the world, sharing whatever I felt - happy, sad, angry, confused, cranky. After every post, I felt a little closer to my spirit, for every word had weight. Some words were light and fun, while others were heavy, yet once typed, became soft. I never held my words back, keeping my feelings real in every post. So, it's been way too long since we last touched base. Boy, how I've missed you!
This past month has been loaded with change. I changed work environment, my daughter started first grade, and my three year old started hockey. Those changes have all been scary, but exciting simultaneously. But I've also been experiencing physical shifts that brought me to deep reflection. I got my first vaginal infection, followed by a minor cold that stole my voice for an entire day. My body was clearly responding to my thoughts, my emotions, combined with all the change that came through this month.
I guess I've been struggling with creative expression since I broke up with my 5-days-a-week, too-many-hours-to-count, career. I have no regrets about trading high heels for barefeet, insanity for sanity. As much as I love my life, the fact that I don't fill my hours with 'a career' can be challenging for me. Teaching yoga is an absolute blessing, but five hours a week just isn't enough. Yikes, I thought I got divorced from the word 'enough' years ago. Here come those old, limited beliefs, creeping up again that include having to be somewhere, doing something for at least 7 hours a day. Yes, evidently my ego has joined our convo. That relationship is still unbroken.
September has been an enlightening month for me. My physical blockages manifested into infection, as well as a silent voice. Losing my voice would probably be my body's most obvious way to get me to listen. My creativity has been on pause for some time (hence my lack of writing). Given that I'm a highly creative individual, that fact has been difficult to swallow. When my voice went out, I realized that I've tuned out the voices around me, as well as my inner voice.
So why am I sharing my gynecological issues with you? Because I cannot stress enough how important it is to LISTEN to your body! The fact is the body responds to blockages, usually caused by emotional damage. Take time to listen, reflect, and react to what is going on inside you. We all have old wounds buried within us. Sometimes we just get stuck in limited beliefs, insecurities, judgement, fear, blame, which we'd rather ignore.
As always, I continue to experience, to grow, to fall over and to learn. Had I not been hit with a double dose of physical obstacles, I'm not sure I'd be writing today. And as each typed letter revealed a word, I discovered that I continue to be challenged by my ego. May we all listen to our inner voice a little better, choose a little wiser, so we may live to our body's full capacity of a balanced mind and spirit.

What I Learned from Robin Williams

You are perfect. Your stubbornness, mistakes, misinterpretation of “no” as “yes”, is valuable in creating who you are.  Every word you think and speak is powerful. After learning of Robin Williams’ suicide, I realized, more than ever, that what manifests through our thoughts dictates the state of our wellbeing.
Bullied through middle school for being chubby, Robin Williams discovered humor as a means to gain respect from his tormentors.  He also used his jokes to entertain his mother so she would pay attention to him. Having two children myself, nothing brings them more joy than my undivided attention.  So how badly wounded was this iconic actor and comedian to have hung himself?
He was adored the world over, with memorable roles, quick wit, and kind smile. He had to have known how loved he was. But did he love himself as much as we loved him? Guess not.  The irony of it all is how he recovered from open heart surgery, but was killed by his brain. No one will ever know what his self-talk sounded like. Most of us aren’t aware of our mental repeat mode we tune into every day.
Robin Williams’ death has made me redefine my choice of words. The words that run through my head will have a new spin. And rather than speaking fast-paced without reflection, I will make a conscious effort to avoid using hurtful, unloving words. Somewhere in his lifetime, Robin was told mean things that stuck. Later in life, he was probably spoken to with more admiration than not, however, the ugly stuck and stayed.
What we tell ourselves every minute has an impact on our wellbeing. The words we choose, during heated times, are impactful. And the repeated negative statements we tell our children will grow within them. We are responsible for planting seeds of love and hate within ourselves and our children. Choose whether you want to grow a nurturing garden or weeds.
Remember that you are perfect just the way you are. You might believe that you will be perfect ten pounds lighter, with accolades decorating your office, or by being present for your children, spouse, and boss equally. In my view, perfection is merely a balance between all our blessings and our flaws. Without weaknesses, there’s no growth. And what a dull life you’d have without improvement.
The suicide of Robin Williams has brought deep reflection to my brain power. He has validated a fact that our thoughts command the human body. To have lived with a passion to move the human spirit through laughter, while struggling with self-love, is selfless.  I am forever grateful for his many roles in which he made me reflect, learn, and of course, laugh.
May your self-talk be kind and your words be rooted in love. May you be happy just the way you are. Nanu-Nanu!