The holiday season is a fantastic, fun-filled, yet frantic time of year. We look forward to it, and then curse it (crowds and costly purchases), and then love it again. On one particularly busy morning, I actually forgot to take off my glasses before washing my face! But, if we're lucky, when the credit-card dust finally settles, and the time has come to simply enjoy the laughter and love that epitomizes the season, we feel joy, gratitude, and maybe even wistfulness for the next holiday season.
It may be safe to say that what the season means to us changes as we (gracefully) get older. What starts out as gifts, family, friends, and food, slowly turns into...family and friends (okay, and maybe food!). As the older generation of loved ones age and the newer generation grows, we start taking "snapshots" of the special moments--husbands, wives, mothers, brothers, sisters, cousins, parents, grandparents, and friends watching all the children while chatting about life and events, mindlessly caressing babies and toddlers within reach; having conversations and making comparisons about life past and present; enjoying friendly debates about technology, education, entertainment, and life...these are all the best parts of the season.
As the years go on and loved ones are lost, these times become even more precious, and though the laughter and yumminess remains, health and well-being come into focus. There are new discussions about delicious, healthy recipes, physical fitness, and stress-management. For me, these family and friend gatherings fall into the stress-management category, as there is always laughter involved, and what's better for the soul than that?? Perspective is often gained in these moments, although we seem to constantly need these events to re-establish perspective! All the better reason to continue having them!
Now, many people don't believe that any one day gives cause to start "resolutions" or new endeavours. Many people think it's just another day and why wait for a "special" day to start something new? I am not one of those people. I like the idea of certain times and days in our lives signifying "newness." Then again, I've always been a list-maker. It's just part of ME. So, as we embark on a new year, I feel it's an exiting time to re-evaluate our lives and set some goals (or re-institute older, previously failed goals!). There's no shame in trying again, whatever the endeavour may be, whether it's educational, vocational, spiritual, physical, etc.
So, here's to all the beautiful people who make my world (and the rest of the world) a special place, and to love, health, happiness, possibility, and dreams!
Happy New Year, and welcome 2012!!
Monday, December 26, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Dancing Fools
My husband and I dance every day...usually like a couple of idiots in the kitchen, to either no music or bad music (and sometimes to the chimes of Japanese key chains playing the "doors closing" song of their subways...story for another time...), but it's dancing nonetheless. Recently we've discovered that our dog, Riley, loves this. He gets up from wherever he is and prances over to us, tail wagging so hard it doesn't know which direction to swing in! He's even tried hopping up on me (to join in? I think so!) during our maniacal ritual.
What does this mean? We obviously didn't teach it to him--we adopted him 6 months ago. Maybe his previous owners danced with him. It's possible; he is nearly 10 years old. Or perhaps he just responds to our endorphins. Dogs have brilliant senses, and Riley is a basset hound, after all.
This is a great reminder that it's really within all of our natures to enjoy ourselves and be happy. It's all any of us want. We all try to achieve it in various ways, but the goal is the same. In his book, How to be Compassionate, His Holiness the Dalai Lama writes that we need to remind ourselves that everyone wants this same thing--it connects us--and if our true natures were anger, greed, or jealousy, then we would be those things all the time, no matter what. He likens our true natures to the clear, blue sky. He says that the sky is there in its essence, even beneath the stormy weather when we can't see it for the clouds. He says that our afflicted emotions are these clouds, and that we're at peace again once the storm passes.
I can't recall when our dancing tradition started, but I do know that it's easy to be happy when I'm dancing (and when I'm watching Riley dance!), so it's something we'll always do, I'm sure. At least as long as we're able to. It's such an effortless way to feel joy, and while neither my husband, my dog, nor I will ever win a dance competition, (No, Canada, I Don't Think I Can Dance!), we'll continue to do as fools do and shake it, in our kitchen and anywhere else the mood strikes.
What does this mean? We obviously didn't teach it to him--we adopted him 6 months ago. Maybe his previous owners danced with him. It's possible; he is nearly 10 years old. Or perhaps he just responds to our endorphins. Dogs have brilliant senses, and Riley is a basset hound, after all.
This is a great reminder that it's really within all of our natures to enjoy ourselves and be happy. It's all any of us want. We all try to achieve it in various ways, but the goal is the same. In his book, How to be Compassionate, His Holiness the Dalai Lama writes that we need to remind ourselves that everyone wants this same thing--it connects us--and if our true natures were anger, greed, or jealousy, then we would be those things all the time, no matter what. He likens our true natures to the clear, blue sky. He says that the sky is there in its essence, even beneath the stormy weather when we can't see it for the clouds. He says that our afflicted emotions are these clouds, and that we're at peace again once the storm passes.
I can't recall when our dancing tradition started, but I do know that it's easy to be happy when I'm dancing (and when I'm watching Riley dance!), so it's something we'll always do, I'm sure. At least as long as we're able to. It's such an effortless way to feel joy, and while neither my husband, my dog, nor I will ever win a dance competition, (No, Canada, I Don't Think I Can Dance!), we'll continue to do as fools do and shake it, in our kitchen and anywhere else the mood strikes.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Yoga...Sweet Yoga...
82 days! That's how long it's been since my wrist broke, and I finally went to a yoga class! Cast off, wrist tender but a LOT better, and I loved it. Of course, I wobbled, teetered, and planked all wrong (military-style, on fists because my wrist is still unable to handle the full weight of my bod--ouch), but it felt great nonetheless!
Resilient. If I had to use one word to describe the human body, that's it.
Don't get me wrong, my favourite exercise has become long walks with our newest, floppy-eared little buddy. But I'm slowly incorporating my other faves back into my life--I rode my bike to work a couple of weeks ago (too soon, perhaps), but there's always been something special about yoga. I've never been exceptional at it, but there is one feeling it always gives me during any practice--powerful. My body feels strong, engaged. With every inhalation and exhalation, I feel connected to myself in a way that truly feels authentic. It's liberating.
In Indian back in 2004, I used to do yoga on the rooftop of the dorm I called home for a few months. My fondest and most peaceful memories are of those times, practicing the poses that felt good to me, in no particular sequence (the warrior poses are definitely my favourites), while watching the sun rise and the people come to life on the dirt road below. A few rooftops over was an older man who practiced with a fervor and discipline I've never seen matched since or before. I could hear him doing the breath exercises from my rooftop, and when he bent himself into tight balls and twisted himself into pretzel-poses, I could see the purity of his practice come to life. Slowly, over the time I was there, I watched people start to join him and ask for guidance in their poses, and he always helped them. There was never money exchanged, no formal class, just his love for yoga and their desire to learn.
The image of that man and his response to those people is what yoga epitomizes for me. The structure of yoga, mixed with the humanity of those who practice in the truest way, makes me feel peaceful and connected.
So, yoga...sweet yoga...is something everyone can practice. It is an unbiased, accepting discipline just waiting and willing to offer its peace to all who are interested.
Resilient. If I had to use one word to describe the human body, that's it.
Don't get me wrong, my favourite exercise has become long walks with our newest, floppy-eared little buddy. But I'm slowly incorporating my other faves back into my life--I rode my bike to work a couple of weeks ago (too soon, perhaps), but there's always been something special about yoga. I've never been exceptional at it, but there is one feeling it always gives me during any practice--powerful. My body feels strong, engaged. With every inhalation and exhalation, I feel connected to myself in a way that truly feels authentic. It's liberating.
In Indian back in 2004, I used to do yoga on the rooftop of the dorm I called home for a few months. My fondest and most peaceful memories are of those times, practicing the poses that felt good to me, in no particular sequence (the warrior poses are definitely my favourites), while watching the sun rise and the people come to life on the dirt road below. A few rooftops over was an older man who practiced with a fervor and discipline I've never seen matched since or before. I could hear him doing the breath exercises from my rooftop, and when he bent himself into tight balls and twisted himself into pretzel-poses, I could see the purity of his practice come to life. Slowly, over the time I was there, I watched people start to join him and ask for guidance in their poses, and he always helped them. There was never money exchanged, no formal class, just his love for yoga and their desire to learn.
The image of that man and his response to those people is what yoga epitomizes for me. The structure of yoga, mixed with the humanity of those who practice in the truest way, makes me feel peaceful and connected.
So, yoga...sweet yoga...is something everyone can practice. It is an unbiased, accepting discipline just waiting and willing to offer its peace to all who are interested.
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