I had an aha moment as I was walking down the hallway at work the other day on a little scenic route past Flare Magazine‘s steamers, stylists and clothing racks — the novelty of which remains untarnished, especially because I’m a huge fan of MTV’s….

On the recommendation of Caroline Dupont and Oprah, I’ve been reading Geneen Roth‘s bestselling book Women, Food and God: an Unexpected Path to Almost Everything.

The book came so highly recommended that I just had to make sense of it. And I’ve been working really hard to apply the great lessons in this book to my life; but, in the meantime, I’ve been eating when I’m not hungry and, mostly, the wrong foods. It made sense to me that one’s relationship with food could be, as the subtitle of the book says, “An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything,” but only theoretically. I couldn’t quite pin down how it could apply to me practically.

But here’s the thing. You know how I’ve been waking up 2 hours early every day to do my rigorous Ashtanga yoga practice — sweating it out on the mat and pacifying the Rascal, pushing couches out of my face while in shoulderstand (seriously), or tearing growling, screaming cats and dog away from each other while trying to breathe deep, long ujayii breaths in forward bend? Well, you know, some things just don’t work. As much as I wanted to do everything right, to practice real, authentic yoga every single morning except Saturdays and “moon days”, it just wasn’t feasible. Waking myself up every morning to basically restrict myself for 2 hours was doing harm. And it was causing me to lose control in other areas. I was eating more. Running to Starbucks a sweaty mess, straight from the hot studio. Can I please have a grande soy no-water tazo chai? *glargh*

It was the food, that dang chai addiction, that showed me what’s really going on with me. A sweet, cinnamony looking glass….

Walking down that long hallway past the pretty people and posters and amazing clothes, I realized: The more I restrict myself the more out of control my diet gets.

So the yoga was getting too hard. Too forced. Everything, motherhood, was getting too hard. Too forced. And the old ways were coming back: the TIRED, the chai lattes, the cookies…the cookies.

Then I realized, just as I passed the fashion rack — AHA! The “doorway” that Geneen Roth talks about isn’t that one eating meltdown. No. It’s the patterns. The fall after fall after fall off the wagon. When do they happen? What’s going on when I fall?

When I eat poorly — really poorly — it MEANS I’M RESTRICTING MYSELF TOO MUCH. It means it’s time for a break. Time to crawl back into my shell and give myself permission to rest.

REST.

So, instead of trapping myself on the mat for two hours first thing in the morning, I’m waking up a little later and going for a walk with Betty White. I’m taking the kids for hikes, which are usually colossal epic FAILS (for another blog post), but beautiful….

I’m going to the yoga studio (two yoga studios — one for rigor and one for…rest) to practice when I can, and fitting fun yoga into some afternoons. It’s healthier for my kids to see me actually enjoying this healthy passion of mine, rather than struggling to get through it.

My eating is the key. The “doorway.” It tells me when I fall into those patterns of restriction, when I’m being too hard on myself, when I need to take a break, sit back, and enjoy life…. Enjoy life. #Concept.

So, as Roth recommends (read it!), I’m going back to my body, becoming aware of my breath and giving myself permission to chill. Oh, man, PERMISSION. Allowing Permission herself to melt over me like a like warm glinting maple syrup….. Mmmmm, syrup…. I don’t have to do anything. Anything. I don’t even have to please you right now….

But, love….

Tonight I made a lentil soup and this fabulous green bean dish (recipe to come). I tasted everything, and I felt something warm and bright and ray-like in my belly — happiness?

Love!

xo Haley-O

Once we have reached the desired end, we think, we will turn back to purify and consecrate the means. Once the war we’re fighting for peace is won, then the generals will become saints, the burned children will proclaim in the heaven that their suffering is well repaid, the poisoned forests will turn green again. Once we have peace, we say, or abundance or justice or truth, or comfort, everything will be right. Well, it’s an old dream.

It’s a vicious illusion. For the discipline of ends is no discipline at all. The end is preserved in the means; a desirable end may forever perish in the wrong means. Hope lives in the means, not in the end. Art does not survive in its revelations, or agriculture in its products, or craftsmanship in its artifacts, or civilization in its monuments, or faith in its relics.

– Wendell Berry

Forgive me, Gorgeouses, for I hath ingested NO CHAI LATTES in two whole days. In fact, I have not had a stitch of sugar, nor a drop of caffeine.

Forgive me, Gorgeouses, for I hath exhaustion, anger and frustration — all the usual “evil” emotions that come-out-come-out with detoxification, with withdrawal.

Forgive me, Gorgeouses, for I hath posted LONG QUOTE (above) that I totally want you to read. It came to me today via iPod, via him, as usual. Which wouldn’t be such a big deal, if I didn’t ALSO get an email from her with a similar message — reminding me not to focus so much on “goals,” dietary and otherwise, but instead to make “one self-supportive choice at a time”:

What prevents you from doing things for yourself is not a lack of goals or intentions as you probably know. What would it be like to simply be kind to yourself? To rest, to eat nourishing food, to take your body out for some fresh air and movement, to allow yourself to feel your emotions, to make space for quiet time, to pray…? To trust that wholeness is already here, and not something you have to create or find? (Email, Caroline Dupont)

To think, I’d get such similar messages in two days — two days sans chai latte. So I’m DONE with GOALS, the “old dream,” “vicious illusion.” We are now, officially, all about the means (even though this, too, can become a goal if taken too seriously). It’s like a total sea change for someone as goal-oriented as I am — my entire life.

One self-supporting choice at a time.

Am I wrong? Or, could many of us use this beautiful, sage reminder?

Tomorrow is Josh and my 7th wedding anniversary. SEVENTH. Will I have a chai latte? Probably. Because if I don’t, I might be as miserable as I was today….

Or I may make the ostensibly more self-supporting choice and have a cleansing swamp smoothie…. Or or OR…, maybe for tomorrow — my SEVENTH anniversary — cake and chai lattes are self-supporting, and definitely spouse-supporting, choices?

For our anniversary tomorrow, Josh and I are taking a staycation. My parents are bravely taking the kids all day and overnight, AND they set us up in a five-star hotel in the heart of downtown Toronto — breakfast and a “special package” included! We are going to relax, enjoy, savour, indulge, hold hands, see ALICE IN WONDERLAND in 3D….

So, anyway, yes, I’m taking all the sage advice that came barreling in, welcomed, these past couple of days.  I’m thinking about my exhausting, habitual, annoying goal-making — a habit that’s even stronger, to think, than the chai latte. Without creating another goal, I’m going to simply recognize this goal-making energy, the striving, reaching, the insatiable aiming high, and to gently rein it in, rein myself back….

Kind of like this blog….

Forgive me Gorgeouses, for I don’t always know why I blog here. And I do think about this often. I don’t know where this blog’s going, for how long, to what end…. And that’s finally okay. I may lose readers and gain readers, as the game goes. Yet I plow on. To no end. With no goal.

And, so, I. I put away the arrows. I stand on this ground. Being with what’s here. Like it, or not.

Love!

xo Haley-O

P.S.: Check Cheaty Goodies for a sweeeeet GIVEAWAY. Best facial in GTA, you could win — or fabulous products for the rest of you (Canada, US and beyond)!

As you may have noticed in my last post, I’m on a bit of a spiritual kick. And, I know, that doesn’t explain a thing about WHAT THE HELL that post was, but that’s the point (or the non-point). Maybe “spiritual” isn’t the right word. And hopefully this isn’t a “kick.” Because, as I said in that last post, I’m happy — happy not trying to be happy. Because trying to be happy presupposes that I’m not happy. And if I step outside my bumbling brain for a bit and look at things as they are, I’m damn happy. Yeeaahh.

“Spiritual” is definitely not the right word either. I’ve sort of been-there-done-that, and it didn’t stick. It was definitely a “kick.” I don’t even really care if the psychic across the road from the big bookstore I frequent is really psychic or not, or even if I have a “spirit guide,” and what his name is, or if my dead cat is communicating with me when I’m sleeping. Because, at least for me, it doesn’t matter. Matter.

Regular yoga practice is teaching me this. How good practicing yoga makes me feel doesn’t matter. Matter. What matters is what’s here, what’s clear. My cat sitting on my lap, purring, now turning to me with stinky wet kisses, the click-clicking of the keys under my fingertips, my daughter upstairs serenading her dad: “it’s not my fault, the police gave me a ticket once because it’s not catching up to you, na-na-na-na-na” (#wtf?). Time passes quickly, and I’m done squandering my life.

So there are things to let go of. Me, the clinger. Addictions, fears, desires, anxieties. This doesn’t mean I plan on repressing or transcending these things, or never-ever-having-a-Starbucks-soy-no-water-tazo-chai-ever-again-EVER. It just means watching, noticing, observing the patterns, the wanting, the cravings — human stuff that we all get sucked into, stuck in. Not caring where it all comes from or why.

This is all a little something I’m learning from him (ignore the old caption — try)…

…and through him (who happens to have been my best friend when I was around 4-6 years old — so, kind of kismet)…

One day, I’ll have the guts to go to Michael Stone’s studio, maybe take a class, maybe let him know the impact he’s had on my life and, so, the lives around me….

Don’t worry, I’m still loving The Real Housewives. Just dancing more to the beat of my own drummer. And maybe even to a little Alicia Keys, because…

…because that’s what my girls are playing because we’re going to NYC — Blogher ’10 — this summer with a whole bunch of other fabulous people whom I genuinely love. Come with us!? God help me, my family’s coming, too! But they’ll be staying with Josh’s sister and husband in Brooklyn. Yes, it will be quite the roadtrip. And I expect to overhear many a backseat conversation, such as this little nugget from today:

TANGENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All that matters: my amazing family, good friends, authenticity (but not the cliche kind), the world, this earth, “this ground.” What doesn’t matter: “big bloggers,” stats, twitter followers, fame, what-if’s, what so-and-so thinks of how my kid behaved in the restaurant, or what so-and-so thinks of what I’m wearing (again)…. None of it matters. Too much squandering. Squandering.

So, basically, while I’m not going to give up squandering altogether (you’d have to PAY me to give up Housewives right now, and, hmmm, twitter), I’m a little more focused on what matters, on what’s real, here, and now, on this earth.

One more tweet for the road – because it came out of nowhere last week and is, dare I say, très apropos….

It’s about being here and now and balanced within an extremely unbalanced society, ecology, economy, etc., etc….

Kind of like this wonderful boy, my blog friend (and fellow T-Dot book clubber) Sandra Diaz‘s eight-year-old son Zachary, raising thousands of dollars for assaulted women, and volunteering any way he can for other important charities. He was honoured at Disney on Ice the other night. That’s yoga — as opposed to “blissing out” in hot pink lululemons. I got to take a picture….

Though it’s a fabulous workout and great for the nervous system, the heart of yoga is in the here and now. In not escaping but being present and active anywhere that you’re needed. Most people don’t realize it. Most people don’t realize how enlightening it is to really be in the here and now — through yoga, meditation, and even just reading (maybe even a blog post?) about it.

Bottom line in 140 characters or less? I don’t care about small stuff anymore. Dunzo. (Okay more than 140 characters.) I will continue to wear my flaws on my sleeve. But I’ll let them be. I’ll go with the flow and focus on what matters. Really matters.

It’s a work in progress…, of course.

People ask me about yoga and yoga books/dvds all the time. So, basically: Michael’s books (he has three of them now) — Cheaty RECOMMENDS.

Love!

xo Haley-O

T’WAS A TIME OF CHANGE. Last week, I wrote a little email…. I needed some help. I’ve been pretty mum about this, but, if you were to seriously stalk my tweets, you’d probably see that I’ve been having some anxiety lately. A lot of anxiety lately. Not “OMG OMG OMG WE’RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEE!” kind of anxiety, but a very physical kind characterized by heart palpitations and obsessive thinking. It’s been rough. And, of course, I blame THE CHAI, which, no, I haven’t been able to quit.

Until last week, that is. THE TIME OF CHANGE…, when I wrote a little email to Caroline Dupont.

Caroline always comes to my rescue. She’s a total EARTH ANGEL, the best healer I know, and rife with sage, practical advice — in person, as well as in her book Enlightened Eating (my eating bible), her meditation cds, and new DVD (which I JUST ordered and am so psyched about).

I wrote a very “determined” (as she put it) email, asking for a complete “regimen.” I wanted breakfast, lunch and dinner DICTATED to me, as well as when to exercise, do yoga, sleep and meditate. I was hoping that this regimen would help me replace old habits with new ones — the right ones.

Caroline didn’t want to give me a strict regimen, though, because she didn’t think it would work for me in the long run. She wanted me simply to start with a few changes. The main one being…

MY MORNING SMOOTHIE (click the link for the recipe).

I’m supposed to drink that thing every day, come hell or high water.

I’m also supposed to walk for 30 minutes 4 days a week, and practice 30 minutes of yoga the remaining three days a week.

I’m supposed to meditate daily. (And, omg, this has been surprisingly SO enlightening and healing. More on this later in the week.)

I’m supposed to go to bed between 9:30 and 10:30 every evening….COOOUUUUUGH!

So, I’ve been drinking my smoothie every morning. NO CHAI (bingo!). And I’ve been walking and meditating and practicing yoga. The only problem with the yoga is that a certain someone gets a little, ermm, creepy while I’m practicing (with my camera in hand, apparently)….

…He’s horribly sneaky and distracting while I’m practicing. But, I INTEGRATE it.

The other changes that I’ve — WE’VE (Josh and I) — made this weekend are MIRACULOUS and will have to wait ’til the next post to be revealed because, without any chai in my system, I’m a total zombie. ZOMBIE. And I can’t write anymore because it’s 9:15 — almost “bedtime” (heh, I wish).

On top of all the above advice (and so much more that I have yet to implement and share), Caroline gave me this gem of guidance that I know she’ll love for me to share:

Your principle spiritual practice right now is your kids. Soon enough they’ll be in school and you’ll have more time for uninterrupted yoga and meditation. Create activities with them…. When you take them to the park remind yourself to breathe and be…. To everything, there is a season.

I’ve really taken that advice to heart and have been LOVING the relief and peace of mind I get from getting down on the floor and really PAINTING and DRAWING again, with my children — ESPECIALLY when I’m not feeling “well”….

…one of my new favourite things…!

Many, MANY, thanks to Caroline Dupont.

Love…!

xo Haley-O

First and foremost I am NOT supposed to be working on this Holiest of Holy Jewish Holidays — Yom Kippur. So, if we were to define my blogging as “work,” as I often do, then I’m sinning right this holy minute. But, no. I’m not working right now. I’m not trying to entertain and delight, and no one’s paying me to be here, so I’m not working. No, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing on this Holiest of Holy Jewish Holidays — I’m reflecting. Yes, I’m reflecting on my sins. Seriously. Come with me.

1. If it wasn’t Yom Kippur — ie., if I wasn’t supposed to be fasting until tomorrow evening — I’d fully be eating a peanut butter sandwich right now. Yes, I’ve gotten into the sinful habit of sinfully indulging in one of the deadliest of diet sins: The Peanut Butter sandwich at 10:30pm…. Only sometimes I ditch the bread and replace with a bowl and, erm, syrup! Aaaaack! This is embarrassing. But CLEANSING. We’re doing it right this year. The consequence of this sin, of course, is those lingering 15 pounds…. And indigestion.

2. And why, pray tell, would I be eating a peanut butter sandwich? Procrastination. I believe it’s one of the seven deadlies…. I procrastinate to avoid everything from blogging, working, working, working, putting groceries away, eating healthy, changing diapers, going to bed…ANYTHING. Tweeting is my procrastinatory (word? should be a word) activity of choice. And sometimes I write sinful tweets. But, I write the odd angelic ones, too…?

3. I am jealous and take things much too personally. People might call the latter “sensitive,” but I think it’s egotistical. I vow to pray hard on this in synagogue tomorrow, since it PLAGUETH me, and to get mine arse back to Yoga so I can speak head-on to this Ego of mine and tell it to STOPPIT and to SHUTIT and maybe, like, GO AWAY so I can be happy and released from the web of anxiety and fear I’ve been living in since my first pregnancy. Gah! Gah-Gah! Gah!

You see, these sins are not without their consequences. I get kicked in the arse whenever I commit even a mild sin, like letting the Monkey watch Hannah Montana only because I myself selfishly adore it — which comes back and kicks my arse when she prances around the house chanting “Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana,” in her best country twang, over and over again. Blergh.

4. I lie. I tell my daughter we’re listening to Disney Radio for her, when, really, it’s so for me….

5. I’m possessive. He’s MY CAT. Not my children’s cat.

Which is, of course, FINE with him. MINE! (And thank you for your thoughts and prayers about MARRRGE last week! She’s FINE! Test results came back brillers. And, by the way, I don’t have to be possessive about her because the kids can’t get near the sneaky little now-TOOTHLESS bugger.)

6. I’m impatient. Indecisive. Impulsive. Perfectionistic. I make up words. I think Kanye West is hilarious. I enjoy The Igor at Rascal’s innocent li’l expense. And Rascal’s beloved “MUCKAH” may or may not be RICE milk.

7. I make sinfully delicious salad dressings so my kids will EAT VEGETABLES. I’ve also been known to puree kale into EVERYTHING they eat.

8. I sing with my earphones on. When I listen to my ipod. When I don’t know the words. Any of them. Not even one. When Josh is in the room.

And now I fast.

Out with the old. In with the new. Even if it’s cliche. Because it’s not ABOUT YOU, Ego…!

Love!
xo Haley-O

Dr. Sharma is a genius. Somehow, he made something click within me so that I FINALLY understand the connection between food and my emotions. I mean, EVERYONE knows almost EVERYONE emotionally overeats at times. And a vast majority of us, especially in this day and age — the age of STARBUCKS — are compulsive emotional eaters. I mean, seriously, tell me you ONLY eat when you’re hungry. No. Not possible. We eat when we’re physically hungry and EMOTIONALLY hungry. Or, even when we’re just plain emotional. As in my case.

This morning was not a particularly good morning for me. I woke up PISSED off. Believe it or not, this is actually part my Ayurvedic Detox. I’m SUPPOSED to feel angry and sad and anxious right now — because the doc’s cleansing me of YEARS of pent-up anger, sadness and anxiety. I mean, I’m a compulsive smiler. I don’t really DO anger…. But, it’s there. Just hidden. Not lately…. WWWATCH OUT!

Anyway, I was PISSED this morning. At everything. At everyone. So, of course, I wanted Starbucks. I thought, “There’s no way I can go to the office all PISSED off and tired and angry, and the apple and pumpkin seeds I ate for breakfast (as per my diet) simply will not do. I better go get a Starbucks.” So, I went to Starbucks. I opened the heavy glass door, looked inside, and saw the huge lineup. I then felt my stomach turn at the smell of the place and had to leave sans CHAI. I KID YOU NOT.

I got to the office, said a few quick, quiet hellos, sat down, and nibbled on some pumpkin seeds. “Not bad,” I thought, “actually not bad.”

Several meetings and conference calls later, I was FLYING. I felt great. Really happy and looking forward to seeing my little Monkeys. I thought, “I feel great right now! Actually happy!” Then I thought, “STARBUCKS!”

Apparently, I couldn’t handle the HAPPY! I NEEDED a Starbucks to mask the HAPPY! Helloooo?

That’s when it hit me. Epiphany. I can understand eating when you’re stressed out. You don’t WANT the PAIN, so you try to STUFF IT DOWN with food. I’ve always understood that. But, why would I want to stuff down HAPPY?

EPIPHANY: I cannot deal with my emotions AT ALL. The second they show up, good or bad, I freak out and run to food.

I didn’t have that chai, no. After realizing how I’ve been USING the chai, I knew I didn’t need it. I WANTED to start facing my emotions head on and to ride them out. It was definitely an AH-HAH moment!

I challenged myself to ride out the HAPPY. And it felt good.

It felt WAY better than the indigestion and heaviness I feel AFTER I drink away my joys and sorrows.

It’s ON, Emotions. I’m ready to face you head on. And, yeah. I’m ready to like you. All of you. Bring it on, Baby, Bring. It. ON!

Love!

xo Haley-O

No, I’m not balancing it all very well — the job, the kids, the BOTH AT ONE TIME, the company, the friends, family, kitties (LOVE KITTIES). Thanks for asking; I get that question all the time. I’m treating myself to CRAZY-ARSE WILD (hi!) Ayurvedic therapy at the Gurudaya Ayurveda Center in Toronto, but I go there early in the morning (the only time I can fit into my busy schedule), sometimes after — GASP — only 3 hours of sleep (have you SEEN my tweets lately: last tweet at 4am in some cases, and next tweet at 7:30am!?).

Now, please, I’ll be okay, Gorgeouses! I’ll figure this out. The 4am bedtime last night was ONLY because it was Father’s Day. I couldn’t send the kids off with Josh for the morning and do my work, as I usually do if necessary on Sundays, and our family party ended way late. I didn’t get to work until 10pm-ish, by the time the kids were tucked in….

So, yes, I’m going to bed. ASAP. I just wanted to stop in and tell you how HELLISH this day was — gotta write this for myself, really, because I need to get this out of my system so I can maybe clear my head, relax and have a good night’s sleep.

Because I’m functioning on 2 hrs of sleep, we’re going point form, BABY! — ooo, bullets! fancy! I didn’t realize I had that formatting option, LOVE! (AND, the bullets don’t work…EDIT.)

- Nanny Rachel took the day off today (she gave me TONS of notice, of course, cuz she’s that awesome).
- Thought I would take the kids out, maybe to the giant bookstore, or Casa Loma.
- We were all TRES excited about the day.
- But, then I realized I had to deliver some art first thing in the morning….
- And, then I realized I had a conference call at 12:30.
- And, then I realized I had an ASAP deadline for some bTrendie copy.
- And, then I realized I still had to finish the post I started at Canada Moms Blog before it got published with how many typos and unfinished thoughts?
- So, instead of Casa Loma, we spent the morning in the living room.
- Rascal sat on my lap.
- I typed copy one-handed.
- Rascal choked on some cereal, like, for real!
- I whacked the crap out of his back until he could breathe again.
- Then I thanked God I didn’t have to dig into the deep recesses of my mind for memories of the infant-Heimlich course I took 3 years ago, AND, of course, FOR SAVING RASCAL!
- The rest of the day was beyond struggling.
- My heart spent most of the day outside my chest, pounding it like Tarzan. AAAAaaaAAaaAAAaaa!
- I guiltfully and regretfully relied on Igor to babysit the kids while I met my deadlines (NANNY RACHEL, I NEED YOU!).
- ALL AT ONCE: I gave the kids lunch in the front yard; had a conference call with my bTrendie peeps; answered the door to a Kids Deserve Art client — I, frazzled with frizzy hair, no makeup, and cat-hair covered Lululemons….I HAVE NEVER!; and chased the kids; and chased the kids.
- Thank God for my neighbours.
- Thank God for the mute button on my phone.
- Especially since I had to take Monkey to the washroom at least twice during the call.
- No, she will not go to the washroom by herself.
- She’s scared.
- Of everything.
- We all napped for a bit after that.
- Rascal said BAGEL after that — “BAJAH.”
- We played with the neighbours after that.
- Thank God for my neighbours (and for bagels).
- Monkey was a handful (to put it mildly) throughout the manic Monday.
- She’s still awake.
- Yes, now.
- Sitting right here.
- Cuddling my neck (her signature quirk).
- Thank God for neck cuddles.

Tomorrow’s my last Ayurvedic appointment in this initial 5-day program. The treatment’s brought up a LOT of intense emotions for me, which I’m working hard to manage in the middle of all this chaos. I’ll tell you more about it, and I’ll finally RUN THE KRISTEN MA BEAUTY BOOK CONTEST, as soon as I get a spare minute. Until then, I’ll give you this: I highly recommend going to an Ayurvedic practioner (MINE, of course) as alternative therapy. I’ve basically commissioned him (and HOT-ARSE kickboxing teach, mmm…) to help me get the rest of my preggers weight off. BUT, you have to have an open mind, as well as open nostrils and ear holes…. And you have to be open for the odd wardrobe malfunction…. You have to trust this Indian Wizard Dr. Sharma and the age-old gifts of Ayurveda. Yeah, s’all good. So good. So part of my Yoga path. Something a little out there…and all FOR ME. Besides, Sharma’s totally loveable when you get to know him!

I’m too tired to post pics today — so, only one for the road….

LOVE! He loves his sister…. (That car looked A LOT smaller at the Toys ‘R US….)

I don’t have much in me to write today because “Anon” is in the hospital. Anon prefers not to be mentioned on the blog or on Twitter — hence “Anon.” But, I love Anon. I’m anxious for Anon. I’ll be visiting Anon in the hospital when possible this week, so blogging will be scarce….

In the meantime, I want to tell you about my purchases this weekend.

And then I’ll usher you all over to Canada Moms Blog where I ponder the possibility of something like an “Existential Motherhood.” Oy. I don’t know why I always get so intense and stiff over there. Oh, well, I guess I kind of do know. It’s not my home quite yet. It’s too new. I need to, as my brillers yoga teacher so perfectly says about yoga practice, orientate myself in the room before I can really let go. Am I making sense? Tired. Very tired.

Anyway, last week, I started thinking about balance, and how I could really use some. New Job is exciting and fast-paced and busy (LOVE!), and then there’s my freelance writing job (which is going so sloooowwwly), Kids Deserve art, and my yoga teaching, and the blogs, and, oh yeah, THE KIDS…, and Anon….

I’ve been finding myself a little anxious and overwhelmed and sucked in lately. I go to sleep and my mind is RACING. So, on Saturday, I decided to take a trip up to the Pickering Village (Josh had to go to Pickering to visit a friend; I tagged along) and check out a New Age shop. I wanted something to ground me and help me make smoother, more relaxed transitions from job to job to person to person…….

By the way? I’m watching The Hills right now, and I have to say: “Let’s totally go to Hawaii. Like, why not? Let’s just hop on a plane and go to Hawaii!” I LOVE how they say that like it’s NO BIG DEAL. EVEN when I was that age, it was never NO BIG DEAL for me to go to Hawaii. Just saying. The Hills is just so realistic sometimes it blows me away. But I digress.

…And how many girls on The Hills has Brody Jenner slept with???

ANYWAY….

It’s no surprise, really, since he’s (to borrow his own words) “for one hundred per cent fact” HOTT….

AS I WAS SAYING….

I was so pleasantly surprised when Rascal and I got to the little plaza on Old Kingston Street. (Monkey stayed with her daddy — daddy’s girl that she is.) It was BEAUTIFUL, quaint and so quiet. Rascal and I were, like, the ONLY people in the courtyard. This courtyard….

Photo, with thanks, c/o Mandy No Good.

Imagine me and a teeny blond toddler (10th percentile, Baby!) walking ALONE in this courtyard. I was totally transported into another time and place. Bliss!

On the other side of the courtyard, was this AMAZING new age bookstore….

See it? With the blue sign? It’s called Odyssey Books and Resource Centre. (And, NO, this is not a paid advertisement. With all the talk about carpetbagging mombloggers, everyone’s paranoid! Even those of us who WOULD NEVER! — paranoid.)

AS I WAS SAYING, this store was full of spiritual goodies from candles to stones, fairies, FAIRIES, angels, jewelery, books, traditional native crafts, and everything else you can imagine…. Check how FAB….

Stuff, stuff, STUFF! I love it! Okay, I realize most of you get more excited about cosmetic stores, or Target, or Prada or Gucci or Lululemon, etc., etc.. For me? I LOVE a good New Age bookstore. Can you SMELL the incense? Ahhhh. So relaxing. ACHOO! I just love to look at all the creative baubles and yoga books and stones and candles and nicknacks — and to just BELIEVE a little in my busy busy life that there is, indeed, SOMETHING MORE to life…. It’s all about the experience.

So, since this post getting long and I have an hour left of work to do tonight, here’s what I bought.

For ME….

I got the chakra necklace (not the bracelet), WHICH I’m wearing all the time now. I’ll have to take a picture of it ON ME; it’s a lot subtler than it looks…. I think it’s très GORJ and IT GROUNDS ME. Even if it doesn’t really work — it MIGHT work, and that alone makes it worth it.

I also got this Bach elm flower remedy (NOT A PAID AD)….

The woman behind the counter said I should put two drops of it on my tongue when I get anxious or overwhelmed as I move from one task to another.

For Anon, I bought a blue sodalite stone that has “Health” engraved on it…. And I bought the Monkey a clear quartz crystal with a sea turtle engraved in it — she loves a good sea turtle. This stone is, like, her FAVOURITE thing EVER now….

I didn’t buy Rascal anything because the experience itself was priceless for him — besides, he really only likes his sister’s stuff…. He had the best time playing with the stones, crystals, chimes, books. I’d give him one stone, and he’d be like “neh. neh. neh,” then I’d try another and, “neh. neh,” and finally another, which he’d take eagerly and hold for dear life in his sweaty little hands until he was done with it…..

We had a great time. A mini-vacation in my hectic, busy life. That, and the sweet little gifties I bought for myself and others, were exactly what I needed to get some sense of balance….

And, now, because you know you want EVEN MO MO MO, check my latest (sort-of related) post at Canada Moms Blog: EXISTENTIAL MOTHERHOOD?. I know, intense again, stiff…. Hope you like it anyway!

Tomorrow, I’m teaching a new group of yogis….

Every week, as many of you know, I teach a mommy-and-baby yoga class. I love it, and happen to think it’s a really important “service” to offer moms, but it’s extremely challenging. Not only do I have to keep an eye on and connect with each mommy, but I also have to connect with the babies and make sure each one is as happy as possible. Sometimes baby has to lie down, sometimes baby has to be picked up, sometimes baby does actual yoga poses or gets a massage, and sometimes — and most of the mommies like this best of all — baby is SLEEPING. So, the modifications that I offer in my class our several-fold. I offer the advanced and intermediate versions of the asanas, or poses, and I offer the WITH-BABY and WITHOUT-BABY versions of the asanas. No wonder I’m exhausted after class! But, it’s awesome. I get to use my imagination and create new versions of the poses…. Check my latest concoction — I’m très proud of it:

I call it “Reclined Twist, With a Twist.” Heh. Not sure what the Sanskrit term for this pose would be. But, I can live without it if you can!

Now, as if mommy-and-baby yoga isn’t challenging enough for my sleepless brain to teach (NO, MY AFFIRMATION DID NOT WORK — LAST NIGHT WAS WORSE THAN EVER!), I’m doing something even CRAZIER tomorrow (and Friday)….

I’m teaching yoga at Monkey’s preschool…! CALL ME CRAZY. I’m teaching her preschool class for half an hour and then THE TODDLER class for half an hour. HALF AN HOUR teaching toddlers yoga? I can handle preschoolers (I think). But, TODDLERS? I must be CRAZY.

Crazy or not, I AM prepared. I’ve picked out some good songs, and an excellent book full of TONS of great ideas that I’ve modified to make my own….

Actually, the book, Itsy Bitsy Yoga for Toddlers and Preschoolers, is good for yoga teachers and parents alike. Yoga’s EXCELLENT for children as young as — Lord help me — 18 months. It teaches them patience, coordination, body awareness, self-respect, and much more. And, it gives them strength and confidence, improves their overall health and fitness level, maintains their natural flexibility, and teaches them balance. It’s, like, a miracle elixir for tantrum-y children, too. And, supposedly, it’s helps them sleep better. Rascal’s not quite old enough for that benefit, though, or anything organized and that doesn’t involve throwing or ransacking…. Love. Anyway, I recommend this book if you want some yogic activities/routines to do with your children. But, I do NOT recommend teaching a bunch of children — unless you’re a certified and certifiably CRAZY yoga teacher!

Seriously, though, I’m so excited for tomorrow (and Friday). The mommies are really excited, too — because the children are. They are so excited, Gorgeouses! They really WANT to do Yoga. So, it’s a big day! For the kids, the monkey, and for me! WISH ME LUCK! Eeee!

Love!
xo Haley-O

No Cheaty’s Celebrity Gossip Thursday this week because I’ve done NO celebrity gossip reading this week. As promised yesterday, I’m focusing HARD on my diet and health. Reading crazy books and making crazy shakes and steaming kale….

What is Mercury Retrograde, and why do I care? Why do YOU care? Because LOOK! LOOK around! Not around YOU, silly! Around THIS SITE. Do you see the wonky sidebar? No? That’s because HALF OF IT IS IN THE FOOTER, which is, in turn, as you can see, trying its darndest to be IN THE SIDEBAR. *Update: No, you’re not going crazy, Gorgeous. It’s fixed now. So, just use your IMAGINATION…. Love.

I spent a good couple of hours freaking out about this. I mean, I consider myself quite html-code savvy. After all, I’ve been blogging for almost 3 years now (3 YEARS!). To not be able to fix my SIDEBAR was almost embarrassing, definitely frustrating. Of course, Josh-O and I were yelling at each other, as we always do when the smallest thing goes wrong with my site…. Finally, we calmed down and both started trying to fix this thing, and NOPE. Nothing worked.

TURNS OUT, it’s the BlogHer ad at the top of the sidebar. See it? It LOOKS great. (Try clicking on it, just to see if it works…. Heh, I might as well make a couple pennies out of this! CLICK IT!). Yes, it looks great. But, it’s messing with my CODE! It’s okay, though. I’m alright. Josh-O is alright. We’re alright. I still love BlogHer ads. A lot. They’re purty, and interesting, and they bring so many of us bloggers together. Besides, it’s not REALLY their fault. It’s…, it’s…, it’s….

MERCURY RETROGRADE (in Aquarius/Capricorn)!
January 11th-January 31st, 2009

Mercury Retrograde happens three times a year. And, basically, it’s a phenomenon in which Mercury appears (from the vantage point of Earth) to be moving backwards — hence the “retrograde.” But, it’s not actually moving backwards. Earth and Mercury are moving in tandem around the Sun, so it only LOOKS LIKE it’s moving backwards — to us, that is. Pretty cool, huh?

Anyway, Mercury Retrograde wreaks HAVOC on technology. All of a sudden, your SIDEBAR GOES WONKY, or your car won’t start, or your TV conks out, your internet is down, down, down. BACK UP YOUR FILES, Gorgeouses, BACK UP YOUR FILES (and your templates)!

Spiritually, these three weeks of Mercury Retrograde are supposed to teach us to SLOW DOWN and reflect. Without technology, you see, we’re supposed to be able to do that. To slow down.

Here’s what Astrologer PAR EXCELLENCE, Robert Ohotto (who is, by the way, quite oHOTTo…) says:

…What does Mercury Retrograde symbolize as a process within each of us? How does it point our ego toward our soul’s timing? As a function of consciousness, Mercury represents our thinking and communicative processes, the ways we access and use information, make decisions, pay attention to details, and express ourselves. Perhaps most importantly, Mercury also symbolizes the way we consciously perceive reality.

Much of this gets reexamined during a Mercury Retrograde cycle according to the astrological sign’s themes in which it’s retrograde. We are asked to retreat within and reevaluate what serves our life with regards to this Mercurial function of consciousness, and what needs to be upgraded, refined, and/or let go of in the ways that we think about things. If we resist this, then we invoke the “Trickster” side of Mercury contained in Mercury’s function. You all know this too well: miscommunications, missed flights, accidents, computer and other tech breakdowns…need I go on?! All of these are designed to help you realize you’re not in control and that a deeper design is trying to emerge into your consciousness.

I am not in control, clearly. Must retreat and reevaluate…. Like, reevaluate, as Ms. Ali Martell did yesterday, my list of “pretend celebrity boyfriends.” Ali and I have always had different taste in men — starting way back when we worked together at Scholastic Canada. She likes the pretty boys, and I like the more, erm, burly boys…. Check it:

1. CLIVE OWEN (as always…)

2. EWAN McGREGOR (a NEW one. I fell in love with him after The Island, which, I’m convinced, is a vegan manifesto….)

3. STEVE CARELL (nothing like a guy who can make me cry laughing. Between The Office and Get Smart…? OMG, LOVE!)

4. WILL FERRELL (okay, I’ve talked about him before. I don’t actually think he’s Clive-Owen HOTT. But, I LOVE him. And, I love being his girlfriend. Here he is — in a pic from last week — telling me to call him. Do you love it?!?)

5. BRAD PITT (should, by no means, be last here…, but, he does have that Angelina Jolie person around all the time, so…. But, man, is he aging well! Beautiful-er than ever….)

Okay, I know there are more, but I’m dunzo for today. This Mercury Retrograde is making my head spin…backwards but not really.

Who do YOU love?

LOVE!!!!
xo Haley-O