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.

Mr. Darcy has it Right -- Most Ardently

You know when the pieces of your life somehow untangle themselves, if only for a moment, so you can see them each clearly enough to evaluate which belong, which don't, if any need rearranging or require transformation or swift expulsion? For me, last week culminated in an epiphany of this sort; a clarity I knew existed, but had yet to reveal itself and its imperative nature until I let it.

Without my usual domestic responsibilities, as my daughter is currently with her Daddy in Edmonton while I fulfill my role as double Maid of Honour, I actually had time to reflect. I taught, practiced, partied, played, rested, relaxed and soaked up all the goodness I could get. I kept only the best company and was constantly content. Last week is up there with the best I've ever had -- and I was no where but my usual Vancouver haunts. The difference was the way in which I experienced them -- with a whole new appreciation; an openness; an optimistic warmth that lit me up from within.

I have always believed we create our own happiness; you forge the path you want or accept a life unfulfilled. Because life is short and so much of it is ridden with potholes, I choose to relish the smooth parts, even luxuriate in them. Having experienced that level of unbridled enjoyment, whenever possible, I rarely allow myself to expect less. As I draw another year closer to turning 30, I've come to acknowledge it's about time I grab hold of what I need and want before it's too late.

Positive changes already abound from my ambition to live ardently. The past few days, I have laughed to the point of tears almost once a day, felt passion, warmth and compassion in pleasantly unexpected places, worked my body only as much as I wanted, not felt I needed, exercised my mind and taught myself to hear and see things and people differently, watched zero television (with the exception of The Bachelorette finale because -- let's be serious -- that was important stuff), consumed only what I consider to be the best food and wine -- because, otherwise, what's the point? I have never felt more relaxed and satisfied. Reuniting with my daughter tomorrow will complete the picture and further elevate the appreciation I have developed for everything I have. It will also mean less selfish time, but more unconditional love. Fair trade.

Last night in Christian's class, I locked out in standing bow -- two feet in one line! I struggled and grunted my way through what I thought was (with my hamstrings) impossible and then found the sweet spot of letting go, the place where limitations cease to exist. As I started to give up, I chose instead to laugh at myself, and with a gentle nudge from Christian, kicked with everything I had. The aftermath of that class was the most relaxed contentment I could have imagined -- and it continued all night. Maybe it was the yummy Mexican food Dad took me and my sister for and the margaritas we downed or the Caper's dark-chocolate-raspberry tarts we devoured while taking in a late show of The Change-Up -- Either way, I'll have another of the same please. If Tuesday nights can be as fantastic as mine was and last week can be a game-changer, every day can be made to matter; to light the soul -- or at least try.