Healthy Hindsight

Eventually, at some unforeseeable -- but real -- point in the future, I'll look back on the past year and smile.
June in Vancouver -- even on the grayest days, it's still a dangerously alluring place. Surrounded by the deepest, darkest blue, the lushest green and the sweet pink of cherry blossoms sprinkling the streets -- I can't help but dismiss the out-of-reach real estate and imagined air of superiority.
Taking class this morning on Commercial -- always thick with sweat and struggle -- a gleaming group of satisfied minds and bodies carrying each other through the dimmest places under the light...it was, as it most often is, completely magical. Another practice = another day I have freed myself from the limits, either self-imposed or otherwise, with which so many exist.

It's strange for me, meeting such a plethora of people everyday, observing those who choose to live shackled by the limits they have either created or accepted. As always -- open to every possibility I can or have yet to imagine -- I am feeling my way through the professional options that seem to exist for someone with my particular skill set and interests in Vancouver; I'm still teaching of course (because that is what keeps me emotionally satiated) and have recently ventured into the restaurant scene...an excellent place to quickly gain back lost heartache pounds.
5 nights a week, I play hostess with the mostess to a unsurprisingly rather affluent room of diners. Greeting hungry guests at the door, I can't help but take a quick peek right through them to catch a glimpse of what lies beneath. Those who truly sparkle are governed by the hidden gem tucked away beneath the Prada -- the truest ruby -- often forgotten by the bachelors and bachelorettes dining solo at the bar night after night. I notice the limited souls shelling out hundreds like they're never going to run dry in part because I am deeply fascinated by the human condition -- and in particular, because of the year I've had.

June in Edmonton -- spent pretending I was not about to jump off a cliff into the treacherous waters of marital separation...followed by dragging my breathless body ashore to find the sweetest sunshine bathe me in its warmth.
By August, I found reincarnation as a single mother (still a bizarre term to me, which really fails to do the reality justice). September, October and November split my heart, mind and body between two very different places. The months that followed gave me love in hopeless places, took it away and brought it back. I gained friends and lost others I probably should have denied entry in the first place. I laughed -- a lot...I cried...less. I danced in happiness -- the kind that makes you fly while your feet touch the ground.
I lived without limits.
This summer and beyond, I'll have another healthy dose of the good stuff, just a dash of the bad -- got to have some of the latter to appreciate the former -- and keep allowing the most important muscle I've got to do it's worst.

I Am Me -- Without Apology

Does anyone near and dear to you look upon your lifestyle with disdain? If, like me, you are merely a yoga teacher in this crazy mixed up world -- you know, the one in which most people live to work -- you may be misunderstood. My parents somehow fail to grasp the notion that I am content doing what I do for the modest income with which it provides me, for which my real compensation is relaxation and happiness. Oddly enough, their heavy-handed judgement comes from a place of hypocrisy. They are not stockbrokers, real estate moguls, successful entrepreneurs, doctors or lawyers; mother is an elementary school teacher and father is now a retired police officer. Throughout the course of their careers, neither one of them has really seemed to enjoy a single day of that with which they chose to define themselves. They brought in decent coin -- nothing to impress the neighbours with -- but enough to live comfortably and raise two kids. They have healthcare benefits and pensions, all of which are, to some degree, important. But what confounds me more than anything is the lives they've carried on with for over 50 years, without ever seeming to live.

I meet a lot of people like my parents in this void of passion respect. They did what they did and do what they do because they choose to govern their existences by following the road more travelled -- the straight and narrow. Scintillating, I know. Sure, such paths have stability, predictability -- but lest we forget, nothing can be completely anticipated. Think about how many people you know today who have been slapped across the face with the news of an aggressive, life-threatening cancer, even the people who lead the cleanest, healthiest lives. Think about the random life-snatching acts of nature, human incompetence and -- worst of all, but less often random -- nurture.

How can those in this moment granted the privilege to live choose instead to adopt a "walking dead" existence? I find them unnerving -- those insipid individuals who simply move through the motions of one day after another, the fire (if it ever existed) in their eyes burnt out.

Sure, part of being an adult is accepting some level of responsibility, especially an adult (like myself) with a daughter. But irrespective of the challenges thrown at me, or the ones I create, unless it's to hook up with a vampire, I'll always choose to live among the living.

Teaching yoga, I may never be in the upper echelon of money-makers, but I'll always have enough to enjoy the simple pleasures (like this morning's mocha) -- and if I don't, I can move to Mexico. Of the highest importance will be my happiness, and the warmth it will always allow me to impart upon my daughter and anyone else so deserving.

Cutting Back on the Sugar

Today I played (as my girlfriend Wendy likes to put it) "hooky from life" for a couple of hours and took myself to see Friends With Benefits -- a well-chosen escape from the torrential showers responsible for taking the banality of E-town to a whole new level. There is a vaguely Vancouver feel here at the moment -- humid, grey and wet -- but without the mountains, ocean and green space.

Having spent some quality time this morning pouring over the latest issue of Women's Health (mostly because Rosie Huntington-Whiteley is on the cover and who doesn't enjoy staring at her) at Cafe Remedy with a mocha and a delightful lemon-pistachio square, I thought it prudent to continue my appreciation of the great indoors at the Cineplex.

This was my kind of movie -- hot people doing hot things in the totally stunning, impressive surroundings of New York and LA. Justin Timberlake (although somewhat overly effeminate for my taste) and Mila Kunis (always stunning) paraded their sweet little asses around, giving us a realistic taste of the kind of sex everyone wishes they were having -- you know, the kind in which each partner knows exactly how to please the other; they realized a fantastical carnal connection simply because they bossed each other around until both got it right. Because they agreed on the terms of their liaisons -- no emotional connection being important -- before hitting the sheets, hurt feelings weren't a factor. No sugarcoating. Imagine if we lived even one or two aspects of our lives being completely straightforward. I think the abundant benefits would outweigh any initial harm.

Straight shooter Tommy (an exceptionally cast Woody Harrelson) sums it up for JT's emotionally reserved Dylan when he shares his rules to live by: "If you want to lose weight, stop eating; if you want to make lots of money, work your ass off; if you want to be happy, find someone you love and never let her go." An astute, fantastic message. Sometimes, I fear we are so delicate with our words (both in communicating with ourselves and others) we impede positive growth.

Ricky gave it to us on the level in class this afternoon in encouraging us not to give up when the going got tough. As students dropped like dominoes, he shared sound reasoning: "you came here to work hard, so do it. Get the most you can today out of your experience here."

I had come to the studio heavy with melancholia and the too-recent Monte Cristo I'd had for lunch and gotten just what I needed from such effective leadership. Ricky drove the bus with a proclivity worth emulating. He was inclusive, leaving no one (even those who tried to escape or lie low) behind. That is exactly how it should be. I hope most people don't pay to coast through class in a way they could practicing on their own in their bathroom. I hope they come to be inspired and transform in ways they may have never thought possible. For me, with growth has come clarity. I am slowly realizing the real sources of happiness in my life, how I can give to and receive from them what I need to do more than merely put one foot in front of the other.