The surgery went perfectly, under the guidance of one of Canada’s top laser eye surgeons. My recovery excelled the first day. The second day, however, I had an allergic reaction to the anti-inflammatory eye drops I was given. The unfortunate best solution to this problem was to remove my bandage contact lenses - which were saturated with the drops - earlier than scheduled. That meant my raw eye surface nerves were exposed while also being swollen from the allergic reaction. I nearly vomited from the pain when my eye doctor slid those lenses off. Percocet was my friend for the rest of that day and night.

Fortunately, though, eyes heal quickly and mine recovered beautifully after that little, horridly painful bump in the road and as of today I’m pretty much back to normal, except without the glasses and with crisper, clearer vision each day. In the mornings I reach for my glasses for a moment, and then smile. Perfecting vision feels good.

Interestingly, I found another ‘bandage’ of sorts being removed during this recovery phase. I’d booked off all teaching and let myself stay in bed as much as possible for five days following surgery. During my time unable to drive, see, read, type, or even send texts, I simply had a whole lot of time with me. My entire visually based life had been removed, exposing me to the uninterrupted flow of my own, real life and self.

At first I had cycles of cabin fever. But after a while I noticed initial agitations, like OCD tendencies to get into gmail or facebook, start to subside. I let the rhythm of my body’s needs dictate my schedule. While keeping a blurry-eye on potential emergencies, for the most part I detached from my outside life and rested. I used to do this kind of rebalancing when I would go camping in the backcountry alone, immersed in nature and utterly without clocks, phones or computers. But I’ve been too busy these past few years to camp.

Now emerging from this recent rest, I’m asking myself how much of what I spend my day-to-day time on is important and how much is just me being busy. Having allayed much of my constant daily activity I feel a newfound desire to cut out what feels like it’s blocking my vision for myself and my life. To that end, I’m going to try an experiment. I’m going to remove myself from twitter, sprouter, facebook, and extranneous emailing. I’m going to be less searchable, not worry about my Google ranking, and dedicate more of my time to being in the tangible world around and within me. This isn’t a Luddite rebellion so much as it is me wanting to see how much of day is about distraction and how much is genuinely useful and desirable.

I have, you could say, a new vision for myself that I feel emerging with increasing clarity. Time alone in silence without distraction reminded me of things I used to love, things I simply got busy enough to forget and neglect. In meditation I came alive again thinking about these forgotten dreams and desires. Now, I feel compelled to revive this part of myself.

This blog and website are lifeblood to me, definitely an exercise in joy and creative endeavour. As such, this site will become my online hub. I feel a renewed desire for less quantity, more quality and I hope this site will come to better reflect that.

And so it begins.

From the very first moments of meeting my fellow YTT colleagues through that intensive week of 10-hour per day training I was lapping it up. My yoga practice matured exponentially. I felt openness in my hips, new physical strength, freedom of movement and such a deeper understanding of what it was I was doing on the mat. Beyond the physical, I was introduced to the Eight Limbs of yoga philosophy and felt for the first time that yoga could be more than just a thing I did; it could become a way I lived. I had moments of real, pure joy in practice and meditation that, honestly, I have never matched since in that same, pure way.

And indeed I was right: yoga very much became a way of life. When I graduated from my YTT I thought I might teach a class here and there to justify the training cost and because I enjoyed it. Yet lo and behold, here I am, a full-time Certified Advanced Yoga Instructor. Every day I centre my life around the practice, philosophy, and training of yoga and anyone who knew me pre-yoga can attest that it has done WONDERS for me. Not only have I created a lifestyle that I love and continue to steer toward bigger and better adventures, but quite honestly it’s possible that yoga saved my life. Really. (That’s another blog post altogether, though)

That simple decision to study with teachers who could take me further and with others who wanted to go further led me so much deeper into a practice, profession, and way of living that I am thankful for every day. It excites me to see the people who now come to my own teacher training with their own visions and beginning steps. Who knows where it will lead them?

I consider it one of my most sacred and valuable privileges to lead yoga teacher training, as I know very well what value and power there is in taking the step each YTT member is taking. My passion, education, and experience culminate in these courses. Some of my most rewarding moments happen in those shared hours with my YTT crew. Plus it’s just a lot of wicked, fabulous fun.

So, thank you to all of you who have taken the plunge and allowed me to share in your yoga journey, both in classes/private sessions and especially through the teacher training. Looking forward to more of it soon!!

So I’ve barrelled into 2010 guns a-blazing and I feel busier and more out of control of my time than ever. Not in an entirely out-of-control way, just in that way that makes me feel like I’m always 3 to-do list items behind where I want to be. I’m not a fan of that way.

This needs to stop. I need to focus, breathe, ground. Why is it so easy to get absorbed in what I could do and lose touch with what I want to do? It’s tricky when what I could do is also something I kinda like to do - grow businesses. What I want to do, though, is not have business stunt me in every other area of my life.

Oh that elusive balance … As I say in class, “Don’t be too attached to your sense of - or lack of - balance. So many things can knock it off, you never really know what it’s going to be like each day. Root, breathe, relax, stay in the posture as long as you’re able, and don’t get pissed when you fall out. It’s just yoga.”

But wouldn’t it just feel so much better if I could just rock every pose???!!! ;)

First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.
- Epictetus, Concerning such as read and dispute ostentatiously. Chap. xxiii.

Perform actions, firm in discipline, 
relinquishing attachment; 
so seek refuge in understanding—pitiful 
are men drawn by fruits of action. 

- Bhagavad Gita

In the spring of 2006 I made a bold and potentially stupid decision to escape from cubicle nation and launch my own business bending people for a living. I ate oatmeal and miso soup the first half a year while living in a room the size of my current bathroom in a friend’s basement in order to attempt to stay within budget. I made about $500-600/mo but I woke up every morning excited about what I was doing. Don’t get me wrong: I was stressed (especially when the bank, helpfully, pulled my line of credit in month three and I, helpfully, pulled my low back in month four), but I was making big changes and even bigger commitments to myself and the life I wanted for myself even as I foundered.

Then came the ‘boring’ years I was hoping for. One client led to three, led to five, led to a few totally bogus studio connections - one of which has yet to pay me and my partners for months of teaching in their space - led to learning and growing. Eventually I nurtured the contacts who nurtured me, and it has led to strong relationships with professional, amazing, inspiring people I respect and enjoy.

Then came this year. Oh my. You see, usually I would have about 20 ideas in my head, about five or six of which would be viable in the moment given current restraints. I’d try those out and generally only one or two of them work. This year, though, pretty much ALL of them worked: teacher training, the Vine & Vinyasa events, yoga retreats, workshops - they just BOOMED! It’s been humbling and amazing and I’ve been bursting at the seams with gratitude.

I’ve also been just plain bursting at the seams. From a yogic standpoint, I’ve been living in imbalance. Sometimes this happens on the way to better balance. We go past the balancing point in Crow Pose, for example, in order to discover - even if only for a split second - where that point is. We do a few more Salutations than usual because we feel energetic in the moment, even if we see we’re not holding perfect form. These are learning curves. But re-creating imbalance simply lacks discernment.

And so I find myself, now that the storm has (mostly) passed, looking ahead at 2010 and wondering what changes and decisions need to be made so that I can stop working 70-80 hours a week and be in contact with friends in a way that involves more than a text saying “So busy - let’s talk soon!!” Where do I hold still, and where do I modify? What positions do I need to take to support my Greater Vision?

I’ve spent seven years dedicated to creating opportunities where yoga practitioners can deepen their practice on the mat. This is most certainly my strong foundation. Building on this, my next vision was to see yoga paired with other aspects of people’s lives joyfully. This vision is at the heart of my Vine & Vinyasa events. But reaching to the advanced positions of my career, my heart is most drawn to this yogic path when I’m working with other teachers. I’ve been so inspired by my YTT crews over the past few years that I feel compelled to make my vision about supporting theirs.

And so 2010 seems to be primarily about me taking this posture as a teacher trainer. It’s easier in some ways to keep grasping for everything that’s working now because it all brings me something (and keeps me off that oatmeal-and-miso-soup-only diet). But that’s not honouring aparigraha (non-hoarding) and thus ultimately not honouring anyone, including me.

Entonces, the next few weeks will be about drawing my attention inward and away from the desires and aversions that can cloud my judgement, and finding a way to bring steadiness and ease to each moment of my life by doing what I need to do to re-create balance and support my Greater Vision. What will be the consequences? None of us can ever be sure. Taking my cue from the Gita and Epictetus, I will do what I must in order to be what I wish to be and let the chips fall where they may.

The year I finally REALLY got rid of my victim mentality, and it made all the difference.

The year I stopped wondering and started wandering into the realm of LIVING my life, my way.

The year I dated a truly nice guy AND was glad I did so (even if it didn’t work out).

The year my business could officially take the title “booming” - after four years of building.

The year things like possible failure stopped stopping me from trying.

The year many of my friendships could, I think, officially be considered long-term because I’ve actually stayed put long enough to let it happen.

The year Pranalife Yoga Retreats had its first failure/learning experience (Sicily), and first success (Tuscany).

The year Pranalife Yoga Teacher Training had its first full Module - And it has astounded me at how friggin’ brilliant people are when you give them the space to become something great.

The year a little, surprise dark horse of a pet project called Vine & Vinyasa ended up being my most successful series of events to date, ever. Who knew I just had to add wine and chocolate to yoga to get everyone on the mat?

The year I started to feel not just older, but also wiser.

The year I finally felt like a legitimate grown-up - and it didn’t make me want to cry to think of it. ;)

This list could go on and on - and I hope it will. So much abundant love to you all for being a part of 2009!

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Me at the end of 2009, as it draws nigh, is a woman in 3500 sq ft of beautiful space all to myself, down two cats - one waiting for me on the other side and one keeping my friend Nicola and her son happy and snuggled with his cool self - single, with a booming business that’s breaking at the seams. And as for why I’m in KW? Well, I still ask myself that question now and again.

There’s so much I’ve come to love about this city. The people, for one. I simply adore them. So encouraging, supportive, intelligent, kind, positive, fun and good. I’m blessed. And Waterloo is fascinating in its lust for tradition and innovation. Sometimes it’s tumultous here because of that, but mostly it’s just interesting, and a great place to brew a business. For a nature girl it kills me to be under so much gloomy grey sky and in what - let’s just admit it - is an ugly little town. But there are rewards.

Still, I’m looking at spending some time in Alberta over Christmas and a part of me comes alive again at the thought of it. Calgary is no longer my ‘home’, but it may very well still have my heart. The West knew me when I was full of potential and possibility; Ontario knows my rollout. One is very much more romantic than the other (though the latter does put food in the fridge more easily). Ontario is my deliberative place; Alberta is my expansive, romantic place.

It’s this romanticism that’s been hitting me lately, I think. I love my work, my clients, my passion, most of my waking and sleeping hours. But I’m wondering where I’d be if things had turned out differently thus far. As I look into 2010 I see another year full of business - and busyness - that will lead to a year after that and after that. And soon I’m 40. Sooner than I thought. Sooner than I realized until just recently. When I was that girl full of potential and piss and vinegar, is this what I saw? Is this what I craved?

I’m not sure. I know I’m happy. I’ll always find success and make it through okay, but my story just doesn’t sound like how it did when I used to dream more and do less. I mean, what happened to those days when I’d watch Dirty Dancing and just know that was me, I was going to have those crazy adventures and meet Johnny Castle and jump into that final lift? Now I watch that movie and I feel sad that Patrick Swayze is dead and wonder how many takes it took to get that lift and whether they had lots of padding behind Swayze when she jumped. I think I’ve lost sight of the magic as of late, and that’s what’s got me feeling like something’s missing. It’s a mean bout of melancholy, no doubt, but these are vital questions for me: Where’s the magic? Why am I living without it?

peyohcipayiw asiniwachiya - “She is from there, the Rockies.” (Prairie Cree)I was organically grown in these parts, woven with its fibers and inseparably *from* here: These mountains are my root chakra; the expansive sky my true Big Mind; silvertip grizzlies, Wapiti, Bighorn ram and moose my strength; the wolf, coyote and cougar my muscle and instinct; caribou, pika, white-tailed deer, adrenaline and speed; the aspen, Douglas fir, white spruce and pine my heart and lungs; the cliff swallows, chickadees and nuthatches, thrushes, sparrows and finches the sound of my own throat; the alpine meadows the sigh of my breath, the ever-shifting weather - my soul. peyohcipayiw asiniwachiya

This area can’t not make one wax poetic, or inevitably end up listing flora and fauna. lol. On my hike I walked past patches of aster and buttercups, bluebells and Indian paint brushes (drew a little nectar from one that was willing). Silver-berry (wolf willow) and tall grasses lined the narrow, root-thick path. And then a marvelous thing happened: I saw to the side of me a fresh raspberry bush, dense with perfectly red berries.

I was immediately taken back to my childhood summers of wild berry picking with Ed Hawkings. Somehow Ed could pick three buckets for every one of anyone else’s, as well as read nature’s signs and predict the weather better than forecasters. I remembered hours of popping ripe berries into little containers with him as I smiled wide-eyed at the booty before me now. I stepped carefully into the thick of the bush and gently lifted one fruit-laden branch. Raspberries require a particularly gentle hand, and seasoned practitioners know just the right amount of pressure to put on the berry to have it slip off without crushing it, or to feel it tug and know it’s not quite ripe enough yet. I plucked a handful.

Eating fresh raspberries is slow food extraordinaire. There’s no saying which berry will be sweet and which a bit of a kick in the mouth, so it cultivates a sense of anticipation to eat each one individually. Their plentiful crevasses can hide bugs, worms, webs and dirt, so you have to inspect each one with a careful eye if you’re going to eat it then and there (which I almost always do). Berries on the verge of overripe will be juicy, so an extra gentle touch is paramount. I ate my entire handful flawlessly and with only one loss to a web I couldn’t remove. I guess the skill comes back like riding a bike. How very … home.Crescent Falls, my favourite camp spot in AB

I would say I feel more like an Ontarian now than an Albertan in many ways. I’ve truly ‘grown up’ as a person moreso in Ontario, though I sprouted from baby to big girl in the Rockies. My network and net worth are based around Waterloo and Toronto, though my roots are certainly still in Alberta soil. But that’s all related to my identity. Here, amidst these mountains and memories, is the essential me. This is where the boundary of me/not me dissipates.

Yesterday I watched a small bird, flying very fast, disappear into the canopy of an oak tree. So dense were its leaves that it was impossible to see what happened next, though I can tell you it remained inside.

I wondered how the little bird found its opening through the leaves at such a speed, and then managed to gently align its fragile body on the branch it chose to land upon, all within a fraction of a second. Not to mention the impossible to imagine flying maneuvers required: the banking, the curling, the vertical and horizontal stabilizations, the deceleration and landing.

Memory? Calculation? Not in that tiny brain. Instinct? Maybe, but how does instinct know which way the branches of a tree have grown when no two are the same?

Asia, that little bird just knew. It had faith, in spite of not being able to see how things would work out, that if (and only if) it stayed the course the details would be taken care of; that an opening would appear and a twig would be found. In fact, had she slowed down enough to carefully and logically inspect the tree first, the prudent thing to do, she would have lost her lift and fallen to the ground.

Kind of like reaching for your dreams. Neither memory, nor calculating, nor instincts are the deciding factors, but faith coupled with action.