Sometimes.

I still need you.

A year ago, to almost the day I fell in love. In love with a song that I can't seem to get from my head or my heart. It is not a great one, not particularly uplifting but none the less it seems to cling, to comfort, to soothe the rough edges.

These days I work on the second floor of a building in a room with huge wide windows. In front of those windows are trees. This, in most cases wouldn't be particularly interesting to me, and it is likely not interesting at all to you. Today was different. Between cleaning out tiny tea cup after tiny tea cup I started to notice a crow in the tree. In her beak was a large twig, or a small branch depending on how you look at it. She spent the better part of the afternoon trying to arrange it on the branches of our tree, placing the framework for a nest, for her home. A few times she dropped it, I would look out and she would be gone, only to return moments later with the same stick held within her beak. I was mesmerized by her persistence, by her creativity in finding just the right spot. I was momentarily in love with this nature in the middle of downtown. I was jealous that she seemed so busy and passionate and that at that moment I was simply cleaning tiny tea cups.

Her renovations also made me homesick. This crow had found just the spot to settle down and build. I was unsure. I woke up this morning with heart ache heavy for mountains and prairies and long black highways snaking through ranch land. I could taste my almond milk latte from Beano (scratch that, if I could only have one thing from Beano the ginger hot chocolate and chocolate espresso milkshake would have to battle it out for my love). The air is just different at home. Life is just different I guess. We haven't had a decent sunset here in a couple days and I am starting to pine for the evening Calgary light. Ever falling head over heels for landscape and sky.

So that's it. Monday. Crows, home-ache, heart-skipped-a-beat.

Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

I am pretty liberal with my use of the phrase "figuring out my life". I use it when I am actually trying to figure out what is my next step, my end goal down the line but also when I need to clean my room (daily). I use it when I need to make appointments or catch up on correspondence, I feel like I am perpetually trying to figure out my life in either the macro or micro form.

In my ever overflowing creative mind I am always trying to do a little of everything at once, not too efficient but sometimes oh so lovely. I feel like my time, energy and excitement is dripping, constantly needing to be caught, like drops of milky ice cream running down the sides of the cone on a hot Kootney day, needing to be licked up with every passing moment.  It is a funny thing to be overfull of what I want to get done and thought in a day and then getting sidetracked at a moments notice.

Fortunately summer, if it ever stays here in Van, is just such a time. Trying new things, dabbling in old passions long forgotten in cold winters. Letting the cone overflow just a bit and embracing and revelling in the sticky hands that result. Not a time for worrying about figuring life out and yet... it's funny what happens when you aren't looking.

Just give and people will remember how you made them feel

For such a seemingly social creature I place and extremely high value on alone time. Lately it has had to fit around work, working for someone else, which is actually a really good thing. It forces me to carve out moments for myself in my otherwise occupied day. The last few days I have taken to walking a few extra blocks for a coffee (reminder: pick up ground coffee and almond milk). It gives me time to be alone in a crowd, putting one foot in front of another and not be accountable to anyone but myself and my short soy cappuccino. I also love that quiet time before I go to sleep. I usually have bold ambitions of reading something worthwhile or getting some work done but often it looks like me putting on some tunes and hunkering down for a little pre-sleep nap. Weird? Yes, Awesome? Always.


I think this 'hammock time' as my dear friend Eoin Finn calls it, is so key to our well being. Vancouverites actually seem to get this for the most part. Runners who run to stop their brains for an hour. Yogis who practice and meditate for their own space. Writers, readers, musicians, all the little ways to just indulge. Putting ourselves first in a day that often requires us to be lower on the ladder of priority. 


Taking time, taking care of ourselves also allows us to better take care of those around us. A full tank allows us to give to others without depleting so much of our own stores. It also tends to make us, or at least me, more stable, more chill, more fun to be around. I came across a quote this morning that pretty much sums up what giving to others can do. "Just give and people will remember how you made them feel." I think this is key. Doing and giving without expectation of results is what we do when we take time for ourselves and also what we can do for those around us. 


here is a cool TED Talk by Eoin himself on the idea of Hammock Enlightenment.

Waiting to say I love you, yeah. (music edition part...)

It's funny what feeling better and some good music will do to you.  I used to walk down 17th ave, coffee in hand headphones on ears and get lost in that world. The music blocking out everything else gave the cityscape new life. I felt like I was in a movie, acutely aware of the scents of coffee and exhaust and restaurants getting ready for the next meal. I was aware of each breath of wind on my collar bones, on my shoulder blades if I was lucky enough for it to be summer, across my cheeks. It never ceased to make me smile. A real smile, heartfelt and willing to connect with those around me. This morning, here in this big city, it happened to me. I felt strangely nostalgic as the corners of my lips lifted, the breeze against my shins, set out to get some colour on this beautiful day. I smiled at those around me, had a bit of a skip in my step. Considering the neon orange sundress I was wearing I must have been a sight!

Music is integral to this process. It is in everything I do. There is hardly a moment where I don't have an iPod, CD or laptop on, playing something or other. My sister has refined musical taste, many of my friends like a little of everything from A to Z. I can't define what I listen to by genre. I love music that brings up lost memories, that transports me, that says what I can't when I just don't have the words. I love music that inspires.  Here is what has been on the last few days, lots of summery girly pop since the weather is finally cooperating and some other tunes for good measure! (MBF's Suzie... just melting my heart)

Need not to climb mountain tops, need not to cross the sea.

So I had my chance yesterday. The fire alarm in our building went off and I grabbed what I said I would. Partially out of an act of integrity, doing what I said I would do, but also in part because I felt that I may have contributed to the jinx if a fire had indeed been started and wanted to be sure I took what truly meant something if I had the chance. Turns out all that metal and electronics are quite heavy but the consolation was a plethora of firefighters in uniform when we returned to our building after waiting out the alarm at a little coffee shop around the corner. Sigh.

New beginnings. I am damn near obsessed with them in theory. A chance to start fresh, a chance to recover from old mistakes, an opportunity to make the fun ones again. Starting a new job has reminded me that there is also a lot about new beginnings that challenges who I am. I have heard time and time again that I am over responsible. It can come off as perfectionism but I am not that much of a neat freak. I just take ownership over all that I affect and my empathy immediately goes out to those whose day I could ruin if I make a simple mistake. I don't like to get things wrong especially when they come easily to others. Yesterday I was going through a process on the computer and my brain felt like sandpaper, no smooth sailing just friction and abrasion to try to get through what I was doing. It obviously showed in my face as two of my new coworkers offered kind and uplifting words. As usual telling  me I was too hard on myself. I realized in that moment that I always feel like this at the beginning. Frustrated that it doesn't come more easily, that it doesn't come quickly. It is humbling and just what I need. With all the newness in my life and more coming shortly I have to learn now, on these smaller things, that everyone starts somewhere, there is always room to grow and learn. I don't have to have it all right now because yoga would say I already do.

Now,  two days off and a chance to set myself up right. Turn up that harmonica please! 

Need not to find a cure for all that makes you weak.

Not really sure what brings me to put fingers to keys tonight. I have been fairly in the moment as of late. Trying not to over think, trying not to over plan. It is good for me. Victory in the challenge of it. It has allowed me to be up for anything. Given me some piece of mind from being so futuristic. It all works out in the end.

I am blessed you see. I have the best of friends. People who have my back through thick and thin. Bruised broken or in the best of shape they are right there to support me. In return I offer colour to their lives. I was listening to a song this evening... which of course I will attach for you. I was listening to it and what I finally am starting to get is that perfection is boring and inhuman. Dig deep but let others in. Let them into your life, maybe into your bed, definitely into you social group. Let them support you, fill in some chinks in that armour while simultaneously letting in a little light too. Follow your heart. It is often smarter than it lets on.

So what would I save from a fire.... I know this came up a couple weeks ago. I haven't let go of the idea. I spent parts of last week reorganizing my tiny room here and realized there are very few things I am so attached to I couldn't live without. Sure there are photos and books in other homes that I would hate to part with but if I had rescue from a fire tonight... here's what I would take.

1) My cowboy hat. Long summers at camp, dusty stampede days. Irreplaceable
2) Red MacBook. Memories, photos, journals. My creative life in a few pounds. It is my ticket to getting what I want. I would save it in a heartbeat.
3) White iPhone 4. The reason I survive living in a new city. My world at my fingertips.
4) Harmonica in C. The only of my 3 favourite instruments that fits in my pocket. Bob Dylan.
5) Pewter flask with initials. My girls gave me this one when I turned 18. Kind of a big deal.
6) Kilt pin and white ribbon. From the defining years of my life. These held me together, pins and ribbons.
7) Travel journals. Debauchery and life lessons in a few short volumes.
8) Tiny Canon point and shoot. I am not going to lie... most of my winter photography comes from this thing.
9) Assorted jewellery. Mostly heirlooms and family pieces (missing are my grandmother's pearls which are being restrung). things I want my daughters to have a chance to wear. Things that remind me where I came from.
10) Not pictured - my Canon Rebel Xsi. My pride and joy.


So that's it. Hope your weekend was as simply epic as mine. Big Love.

Small Towns and Big Dreams.

There are sometimes-fleeting moments where life just is. All the big plans, the lists of what should and shouldn't be, writing down what you thought you wanted, what you thought you didn't want. When this is all too much, or you just cease to make big plans for the universe, all the to do lists and boxes to check just fall away and life gives you exactly what you were looking for all a long. It gives you what you need.

If you had asked me a year ago, almost to the week, what I would be doing now my answer would likely be anything but what I am doing. I would have said I would be with the same boy (who was later bound to break my heart). I would have likely believed I would still be in Calgary, managing a store, living in my old house, in my old neighbourhood. My dream of moving west continuously pushed back, pushed down. I wouldn't have guessed everything would have been different. That I would have had to throw aside everything that just wasn't right and finally, slowly allow some new light in.

That's the funny thing about time. It changes everything. I used to think Law School was my only path. That I wasn't any good at business, that I could never be successful as my own boss. I stuck tight to my plan: the job I should have, where I would live, the man I would be with. I defined it all down to the last detail. I can say with an exhausted happiness that none of this worked out.  That none of what I had planned for myself is anywhere close to what indeed transpired. I spent a lot of this last year wishing it were different, heart bleeding in what I saw as unnecessarily hard. I am better for it as I see now. I learned big lessons fast it seems. I am becoming the lovely young woman I have always hoped to be.

I am inspired by newness, by change, by learning from the hard knocks. My heart skips a beat at this last year.

I Think I Might Be Confused.

I think I might be confused. I thought this was a game. A game I grew up loving. Watching the Habs on T.V. with my dad (often en Français). Watching Flames games at the ‘Dome or with friends in front of any screen we could find. Listening to the scores from across the country while I studied for exams. 

I will never, ever, forget Our Cup run. Watching late at night and early into the morning from my first year dorm common room, often with significant exams the next day. I remember all the big goals. It has never escaped my mind while watching a first series game against Vancouver when it looked like we were in for a win and they scored a goal to tie the game in the last 5 seconds. I carry that moment with me. I will never forget that it isn’t over until it’s really over. There is always a last chance. I remember landing in Calgary, hopping into our giant Suburban with my sister and her friends and sitting out of the sun roof, cruising 17^th ave after a win. I remember being 18 and spending most nights down there. Always safe, always fun. My  mum did remind me to keep my shirt on. I guess that’s how Calgarians are different. Instead of riots we like to celebrate spring by letting the 15 degree heat hit our bare flesh. Take it or leave it. That Cup run, even in Game 6 against Tampa, even in game 7 when Lecavalier scored, and we all knew what that meant, I believed. I don’t think I had ever believed in anything that much. I fell in love with a team, with a city, forever in love with cheering for the underdog. Proud that even after we lost that final game that the next day we had more people attend a celebratory rally than attended the victors’.

In this diverse and beautiful country of ours hockey is a unifying force. Winnipeg got the Jets back and look at their city, never more alive, never more together. We love hockey for its simplicity. 5 guys or gals on the ice, get the puck in the net, drink a beer. That’s it. As Canadians it is something that defines us for the rest of the world. It is in our blood like the deep black prairie soil is in the veins of an Albertan. So I am confused Vancouver. I thought this was a Game?

EDIT: This morning, when the smoke and the darkness cleared true Vancouver Fans stepped up. They may not have come in the force of the rioters but they made their presence known. Cleaning up the wreckage. Putting back together the city and their reputations. 

It's always better when we're together

I remember coming home from summer camp at the end of my two weeks on the coast, finding the nearest bed or couch and then proceeding to sleep for much of the next two to three days. My time by the ocean, under the trees would be so high energy, both emotionally and physically, that I would be so drained by the time I got home sleep was literally all I could do.

I has easily been eight or nine years since I felt that way. Since I felt so tuckered out from too much fun that I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. But low and behold I have spent more than half of the last 48 hours asleep. Magic.

The reason is a good one. A dear friend got married this past weekend. Consistently one of the most genuine and inspiring people in my life she has always been there to give me tough love or have a ridiculous dance party with me on the retail floor. Nights out are rarely more fun and almost never have better stories attached to them than when she's around. You can imagine then how fun her wedding was. It was also a very important reunion with my closest friends from Calgary. Girls I can't believe I hadn't seen in almost two months. Just like getting off the bus at camp and seeing cabin mates after a long eleven and a half months in the city. Lots of catching up to do.

The wedding itself couldn't have been more perfect. It was very "them", the bride and groom's tastes were obvious in every facet of the ceremony and reception. It was small but clearly only people who were open to making new friends and in for having a very good time were invited. Happily we all fit the bill.

Now I am certain that this is not the most eloquent of all writings here but the truth of the matter is, that even though I ate too much gluten and it is clearly impacting my ability to function, my heart skipped a beat this weekend. I was surrounded by inspiring person after inspiring person (like attracts like I guess). I jotted down many small lessons in my mind from happy couples, wise parents, and gorgeous single ladies. I took to heart that good things happen when you least expect them to, that saying what you mean and meaning what you say is impactful (if not used for evil) and that just being yourself is really the best way to get through this crazy mixed up life.

When it rains it pours.

And when the wind does blow across the grain you must follow your heart

Legacy.

There is something about what mark you leave on a place that can what truly defines you. You never really know what you mean until someone else can tell you that they want to be for others what you were for them. In my leadership role in my last job we talked a lot about the legacies we wanted to leave. What did we want to leave for our stores, for our people when we moved on. I had thought a lot about this for a long time. Before I was in the position I left from. I wanted to inspire people, I wanted make them laugh, love their lives, achieve big goals, more importantly I wanted them to pass it on.

I got an email, impossibly early this morning before my first day of a new job. My new beginning. It was from an incredibly inspiring young lady who never ceases to amaze me. She let me know, in her eloquent way, that she had big goals within our company and that when she thought of who she wanted to be as a leader, it was qualities she saw in me that she wanted to portray for her people. Now I was by no means perfect, in many ways I was often a great friend when I could have been a better manager. At the end of the day it was more important to me. It moves me and warms my heart to no end that the legacy I always wanted to leave is living on, even just a little bit.

Best of luck to you friend. You are already that person.

The only moment we were alone.

I’ve fallen for yin.

Yin yoga is the balance to a firey power class. It is the melty, slow, introspective counterpart to a more strength based, quicker paced yoga style. It is my new love.

I have always had a soft spot for a good slow stretch class but lately it is my passion. It helps I guess, that my new favourite instructor has a voice that is soft and sweet like a bird and buttery smooth all at once. That her classes are just what I need when I need them. And these days boy do I need them. A lot is going on here, especially in my head, and it’s all I can do to keep from getting, from going.

Last night’s class came at the end of a long and reasonably unproductive day. I haven’t been myself lately. Blaming it on the weather, on transitions, on everything I can. When it really comes down to it I am simply that. Down. I store it all in my shoulders, in my hips for sure, in my kidneys, in my jaw. All the anxiety, the worry, the inexplicable tiredness, it is printed and drawn across the connective tissues and organs of my body. Yin is a release from this. For a class where much of the hour and a half is spent laying or sitting, most often in heavily supported postures, it is always a challenge for me. To be present to what is going on inside, to the sensations in those tight spots is harder sometimes that sun salutation after sun salutation, a strong standing series and a multitude of chaturanga dandasanas. Boy I was sweating it out last night. Working hard to try to get some energy flowing.

Needless to say I always feel better when I practice, no matter what class, no matter what I do in my home practice, the simple act of coming to my mat brings me home. Let’s my chattering mind know it is time to get quiet. Time to breath. To sit. To let some junk go.

If this all sounds too good for words you can check out a yin class here:

In Vancouver:

- YYoga http://www.yyoga.ca/ ( my favourite class is Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday with Ingrid Nilson)

- Semperviva http://www.semperviva.com/classes.php

In Calgary:

- Yoga Santosha http://www.yogasantosha.ca/schedule.php

- Yoga Shala http://www.yogashalacalgary.com/wednesday.php

We do not remember days...

We do not remember days... we remember moments. - Cesare Pavese

I often think about the defining moments in my life. I remember significantly the times I took chances, big decisions that were made, spontaneous adventures, acceptance letters, job offers, unexpected kisses. The things that changed the course of my life, for a minute, for a few weeks, forever.

The more these moments happen the more they start to clearly show themselves I feel. The more we can see them for what they are when they occur, right there on street corners, in crowded bars, in airport waiting areas.

I met one of my best friends because my manager was busy at the time she needed to be picked up from the airport and I was not, we connected instantly. Again, in a flash I made an offside comment about driving a mom car (best ride ever) to her and she unveiled my deepest desires and what was holding me back from reaching them.

I will never forget a singular moment from a summer at camp. After rescuing a cabin group who sailed too far down the sound I can pinpoint a moment, sailing their laser back, hiking way out over the side, everything silhouetted in front of me, wind in my face, in my hair.

I can vividly see and hear and feel the moments when I received the worst of news. I can replay a first kiss over and over with heart warming clarity.

I do not remember entire days but simply snapshots. Perhaps this comes from the photographer in me, only able to connect in brief moments, frozen in a split second. Everything seen as if through a lens.

When everything is out you got to take it in.

It has come down to this again.

Pushing something down, away, trying to forget, assuming, hoping that time will make it go away doesn't always work. There have been things in my life that I have wanted out for what ever reason and time especially seems the best eraser. Getting over disapointment, dealing with change, time can make you forget, can diminish how much you care, how you are affected. There are other things that don't go away so easily. Something left unsaid, pushed to the back of your mind with the hopes that with a few weeks distraction might cease to exist. These are the things that matter, these are the things that you can deny till the cows come home but they will always come up again and again. The lesson I am learning is this. Deal with them now. If you just can't let it go, get complete with it. Say you piece.

Now... back to this crazy hockey city and my impending inability to sleep in my downtown apartment tonight.

HOME Sweet city love.