Playlist Thursday - Second Verse, Same as the First

Hey kids!

Here's a little trick to sequencing that no one tells you in teacher training:

Yoga teachers recycle!

If I didn't have some fall-back lesson plans to work with, I'd spend my entire life sequencing. It's not to say that I don't love throwing new stuff in the repertoire. If I had my way, I'd spend 90% of life learning new yoga from teachers, videos, articles, etc. I love to live and breathe yoga. Unfortunately, meals and sleep and family intervene and I'm often left with less prep time for class than I would like.

The same goes for playlists. I have some fall-backs that I like to use. Certain songs that I mix up and throw together when I need a soundtrack for class and I don't have time to prep one.

The following is a mix of some of my favourite stand-by yoga jams. You'll notice some repeats and that's cool. I know that as a yoga student, it's as comforting to hear familiar songs as it is exciting to hear new ones.

Here we go again:

* When I'm With You: Alias (Acoustic Live Version)

* Love on Top: Beyonce (What's a yoga class without Beyonce?)

* Into the Mystic: Colin James (There are many versions of this song that I'm totally in love with, but this is by far my favourite)

* Crash Into Me: Dave Matthews Band

* Hysteria: Def Leppard

* Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters: Elton John

* Levon: Elton John

Note: I don't normally put two songs by one artist back-to-back unless I feel like the songs somehow "go together"

* On Top of the World: Imagine Dragons

* Have a Little Faith in Me: Jewel (Because what's a yoga class without a song that makes the teacher cry?)

* Danny's Song: Kenny Loggins (go ahead and hate, Kenny Loggins haters.)

* Wildflowers: Tom Petty

* Ain't That a Kick in the Head: Dean Martin

* So Much Magnificence: Deva Premal and Miten (While I was doing my yoga teacher training, I always promised myself I would play this song for my first Savasana. I kept the promise to myself and have used it for many Savasanas since)

There are some spares on this list as well. They're interchangeable with the above songs and I pick and choose depending on my mood:

* Hot Child in the City: Nick Gilder (pre-google, Lins and I were convinced this was sung by a woman)

* More Than This: Roxy Music (my favourite song of all-time because of this scene)

* Cry to Me: Otis Redding (for me, there is always Otis)

* Sun Light: MC Yogi

* Vienna: Billy Joel

* Anything Could Happen: Ellie Goulding

I wish you many happy hours spent listening to mixed tapes,

Er

Playlist Thursady - Universal DJ

Confession: I just got a new IPhone and I have no idea how to use it. I've been a Blackberry gal all this time because I love the keyboard. My IPod bit the dust the same day I got my new phone, so I've been transferring all my music from pod to phone.

I remember being a kid and having dinner with friends of ours'. While doing dishes, our friend, S would wash and then leave the dishes in the rack, "God's doing the drying."

That's how this playlist came about. It's 80% randomness because I don't know how to use my phone  and 20% I-really-love-that-song.

Sometimes you've just gotta let the Universal DJ do his thang...

(Sometimes, there's no other choice)

* Get Back to Serenity - Vargo (from the Very Best of Cafe del Mar)

* Heading for the Sunrise - Steen Thottrup & Annette Berg (also from Cafe del Mar)

* Helpless - The Band feat. Neil Young (Concert Version from The Last Waltz)
(Cried during my own class while this one played.)

* Smile - Sierra Leon's Refugee All Stars (You need to watch their story) My hubby and I saw them at Starbelly Jam this past summer. The only thing more striking than their story of triumph of the human spirit is their catchy smiles and joyful lyrics)

* Tura Lura Lura - The Band (Live at The Last Waltz)
Also made me cry.

* 100 Billion Stars - Lux (also from Cafe del Mar)

* Arms of Mary - Chilliwack (I love this song. It's about doin' it. Just sayin'.)

* #Beautiful - Mariah Carey feat. Miguel.
Go ahead and judge me. I'm 31 now and I don't care if you know that I like Mariah Carey.

* Girl on Fire - Alicia Keys
Go Girl.

* Heart of Gold - Neil Young

* I'm Goin' Down - Bruce Springsteen
I have a Bruce Springsteen problem...

* The Long Run (Live) - The Eagles

* OM Namah Shivaya - MC Yogi feat. Bhagavan Das
What's a yoga class without a little Sanskrit?

* 6th Avenue Heartache - The Wallflowers
WTF ever happened to The Wallflowers? Anybody?

* Beach Waves - Nature Sounds

* Desire (Ambient Mix) - Blank & Jones

This has been a crazy week, filled with crazy times for this crazy chick. As an aside, I was greatly aided by this book:

 It's not just for artists. It's for anyone (everyone) who's looking to overcome Resistance and get closer to the life we're all hoping to live. It's as practical and pragmatic a guide as you're ever going to get.

 

 



Stop. Camel Time. Haha. Get it?

 

 

 

Looking forward (giddily) to practicing with those of you who can make it to class today. It's a really special day to me because it's a karma class to benefit Bridges to Community. Bridges is a group that's really close to my heart. A few years back I travelled with a girlfriend of mine to Nicaragua. We fund raised for six months and participated in the building of two houses. It improved the lives of people who became very dear to us and it sure as heck changed us in the process. If you'd like to learn more, visit them right here

 

 

One last thing. S and I made this video upon our return:  here

 

 

 Love you more than you know,

 

Er



Playlist Thursdays - Yoga Gots Soul

I've just returned from teaching a new corporate class - it's always a bit nerve-wracking to start a new class but I feel really passionately that those of us who spend our days at a desk need extra yoga tlc.
(Hence the silly office yoga that transpired in front of my iphone camera)

And back to playlists...

I create a yoga playlist similarly to the way I used to create playlists when I ran a lot and mixed tapes back in the day - I usually find inspiration in a theme or a song I become obsessed with (or fall back in love with) and then build around it. I like to start slow and end slow

This week's playlist was built around The Temptations because I love them. Truthfully, I thought of that scene in Thelma and Louise where they're singing The Way You Do the Things You Do...

Here comes some soul. Can ya dig it?


* Ain't No Sunshine by Aaron Neville

* Chain of Fools by Aretha Franklin

* Far Away Like a Radio by Colin James (holla!)

* Someday We'll Be Together by The Supremes

* The Way You Do the Things You Do by The Temptations

* Little Sister by Elvis Presley

* What's Happening Brother? by Marvin Gaye

* Band of Gold by Freda Payne

* Too Late for Lovers by Gin Wigmore (are you listening to Gin Wigmore?????Why nooooot?)

* Hurt Me Tomorrow by K'Naan

* Again by Lenny Kravitz

* I Don't Want to Fight Anymore by Tina Turner

* Right Back Where We Started From by Maxine Nightengale

* Come to my Window by Melissa Ethridge

* Angel of Harlem by U2

* Ain't Too Proud to Beg by The Temptations

*(Sittin' On) The dock of the Bay by Otis Redding

* You Put the Soul in the Song by Waylon Jennings (Waylon's got soul. He just looks country)

* Change Gonna Come by Otis Redding

* Blueberry Hill by Fats Domino

* America by Simon and Garfunkel (which makes me cry and is therefore left for the end of class when everyone is napping)

So there it is, yoga/music friends. I hope you enjoy it and spend many happy hours at your mat.


Love your soul,

Er

Chocolate Quinoa Cupcakes!!!

When I posed this pic on my Facebook and Instagram last night, I received a ton of requests for the recipe.

 

Not that I blame you - I'm always looking for yummy gluten-free recipes also. This gem comes from some colleagues of mine in Invermere, BC (holla!). The author of the brilliance that are these cupcakes is Nicole Du Vent aka Betty Delicious and you should all check out her website http://eatpurefood.ca/

 

Here's the recipe :)

 

*makes 12 (when I doubled the recipe, it only made 20. but I may have been a little heavy handed with my spoons)

 

*3  Large eggs

 

*1 tsp pure vanilla extract (do I even need to mention that you should buy the really   good stuff because we're grown-ups now??)

 

*2/3 cup of coconut oil melted (can substitute butter or grape seed oil)

 

*2 cups cooked and cooled quinoa (2/3 cup raw)

 

*3/4 cup honey

 

*1 cup coca sifted (again - good is better than cheap)

 

*1 tsp baking soda

 

*1/2 tsp baking powder

 

*1/2 tsp sea salt

 

 

Note from me - I think we could all use more quinoa in our lives. I put it in everything. I make my hamburgers with it in place of bread crumbs or oats. it doesn't bind quite as well, but it keeps them really moist

 

Back to cupcakes:

 

*Preheat oven to 350 and grease muffin tin (or use fancy tulip cupcake wrappers if you are me)

 

1. Combine the eggs, vanilla, melted coconut oil, honey and quinoa in a food processor or blender. Blend until very smooth. Stop to stir and mix if necessary (note: mine never did get very smooth but it didn't seem to matter much. they still cooked beautifully)

 

2. In a medium bowl sift the cocoa. Add the baking soda, baking powder and salt. Stir to combine. Add to the quinoa mixture and stir to combine. *If you are using a food processor you can add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in the food processor and blend until smooth.

 

3. Spoon into muffin tins filling cups 3/4 full. Bake the cupcakes for 20 minutes or until the centers spring back when gently pressed.

 

4. Let cool for 10 minutes then run a knife around the edges of each cupcake and tap out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

 

Now. As much as I respect the author of this brilliant website/recipe, she doesn't think that these cupcakes require icing. Here is where we differ, because I think that EVERYTHING NEEDS ICING.  I used store bought icing because it was 9:30 and it was the best I could do but I feel like this would be perfectly wonderful with peppermint buttercream.

 

PS If you are my brother and you are reading this, you will say that I am a terrible baker and to you I will say that I have finally stopped rebelling against recipes. I follow them and things turn out. No more improv.

 

Happy Baking,

 

Er

Faith for the Faithless

“The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.”
― J.M. Barrie, The Little White Bird

“A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

Faith and the lack thereof is something I feel very passionately about - how to find some faith when you're tapped.

For me, faith has always been fairly easy to come by. It's an interesting juxtaposition because I've had a messy life. When I made my own messes and f*cked everything up, there was always a perfect book

(like this: http://www.hayhouse.com/details.php?id=267)


or a great podcast (like this: http://www.hayhouse.com/details.php?id=7772) or a conference to attend (like this: http://www.hayhouse.com/event_details.php?event_id=1916).

And I got results. I cleaned up my thoughts. I believed in higher powers. I believed in the beauty of my own dreams. And every single time I followed what the spiritual literature recommended, things in my life improved.

These are very important first steps on the path. And for some people, they may be the only steps necessary to get the life you've always dreamed of.

For the rest of us (hands up), life does not always work out. Sometimes, as clean as our thoughts are, as many books as we read, Life will still disappoint us. Bad things will happen to good people. Life will have lessons in store for us that will make absolutely no sense.

This happened to me quite recently. Something that I wanted very badly and believed in to the point where I literally didn't consider any alternative was taken away from me. It had already been integrated into my existence and having it yanked out from under me literally threw me into a full-on crisis of faith. It was easier to have faith when I was screwing up. To have faith when I'd done nothing "wrong" was another beast entirely.

Here's how I'm clawing my way back from faithlessness:

- find something, anything to have faith in. Perhaps your faith in God is shattered and you'd like to spit in Buddha's chubby, happy face. But there is always something you can put faith in. I had faith in the good in my friends and family even when my faith in the goodness of the Universe was tested to max capacity. Perhaps it's a pet or a yoga teacher or a stranger (warning: don't stalk. it exacerbates the problem). Whatever it is, cling to it until you can believe in Life again. Connection is key here, especially if you want to isolate.

It's easy to have faith in this chick

-get outside. This is crucial for me. When I'm feeling cooped up in my life, it usually means I've been cooping myself up indoors. I know it gets more difficult to force ourselves outside for those of us who live in parts of the world where it's getting to be not-so-nice weather-wise. Do it anyway. Get your feet wet and dirty (barefoot if at all possible without risking losing digits to frostbite). Nature is healing. It's been scientifically proven many times over. Moreover, I've proven it to myself. Even if the best you can do is sit outside and cry. Do it anyway.

-don't read the comforting stuff if it pisses you off. Instead, read some stuff about some people who've had a hard time and somehow managed to make it back
(I recommend this book http://serabeak.com/red-hot-and-holy/ for its irreverence and get-down-to-itness)

-find something purposeful to throw yourself into. It really does help to help other people. If you can't go that far, find a project that you're excited by (even if it's just a little one). Get crafty, get creative, sing in the shower.

-I found it immensely comforting to realize that sometimes, life's just not all that fair. But it's still good. Remember what you have. In fact...

-Make a list. Go ahead. Right now. List the few, tiny things that you're able to be grateful for.

Here's mine:
*good coffee
*friends that make me laugh
*Community (if you haven't already, do it. It's on Netflix)
*my garden (I'm going to count it until the bitter end)

-sometimes, the only thing to do is to have a cry. Sometimes, it needs to be days and days worth of tears. I highly suggest you find someone to hang onto while you cry. Even if it's your cat.

One day, in spite of our intentions to remain hopeless forever, the light trickles its way back in. Be patient with yourself while you're in the process and please, please, know that you're not alone.

"Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in". - Leonard Cohen

I promise it will get better. I really do. I've been there.

Love to hear your coping strategies,

Er

***PS Our new home is coming along beautifully. Fingies crossed we'll be go for launch by next week***

Playlist Thursdays!

I'm super psyched for a new feature here on the Be a Tree blog!

 

Playlist Thursdays!

"Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing" - High Fidelity

I don't mean to brag, but I'm kind of a master at playlists. When I teach my yoga classes, I'm often asked to share my songs with people and I'm totally happy to share them with you all here.

I tend to be a bit unorthodox in terms of yoga playlists - keeping in mind that by being myself I ensure that I'm not everybody's teacher and neither am I everybody's dj. I am madly in love with devotional music of every genre, but I don't necessarily believe that a yoga class requires only Sanskrit music in order to move people. I'm most moved when the music speaks to my history, makes me feel nostalgic and connects me back to my self.

With that in mind, I've decided to share my yoga music with you for your home practice or just to groove out to. Every Thursday. Pinkie Swear!

A few words on building yoga class soundtracks:

- I like to play chilled out Indian tunes, quiet kirtan (call and answer) or nature sounds for when people are gathering on their mats at the start of class
- I always start out slow. No one wants to be blasted during their warm-up
- I like to slow it right down for Savasana. Yoga Nap = quiet time

Namaste, babies!

Enjoy,

Er

Last Thursday's Jam

Africa Must Wake up - Distant Relatives (hip-hop supergroup comprised of Nas, Damian "Jr Gong" Marley and K'naan)

Rosanna - Toto

The Great Divide - The Mowgli's (this comes up a lot because I am obsessed with it's catchy brightness)

Domino - Van Morrison (loves me some Van)

Some Nights - Fun. (this is Sierra's fave song right now)

Mandolin Wind - Rod Stewart

Don't Look Back in Anger - Oasis (I heard this in a bar in Dublin and rekindled my junior high love affair with Oasis)

Caravan - Van Morrison again. (I like the version from The Last Waltz best)

Ganesh is Fresh - MC Yogi (what's a yoga class without a little Deity)

Elenore - The Turtles

Bright Side of the Road - Van Morrison (this is the happiest song in the Universe)

Motherless Child - Eric Clapton

Songbird - Fleetwood Mac (makes me weepy, but the students are usually on their backs by this point)

Jane Says - Jane's Addiction (this song was a little bit out-of-place. If I used it again, I'd move it up a bit)

A Case of You - Joni Mitchell

 

**Head's up!! I'm moving this blog to a new home in the not-so-distant-future. Stay tuned!***

Book Lust

I have a confession to make...

My husband is leaving tomorrow for work. He'll be gone for a little more than three weeks prior to being back for one.

We had a lovely family dinner of bacon and eggs in bed while watching The Incredibles for possibly the eighteenth time this week.

I want to get in as much time with him as possible before he goes...

 

But I've fallen in love.

Book Love.

Actually, at this point, it's only Book Lust. But I can feel the love coming. The all-consuming love that makes me ignore my family and my phone, my work and occasionally hygiene in order to find out what happens next to my favourite characters

It doesn't happen very often. Maybe once or twice a year if you're lucky.



I remember when Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows first came out. I'd pre-ordered it from Amazon. I waited impatiently. It arrived. I had house guests. I decided to prepare a delicious and complex meal so that I could spend the evening in the kitchen, sneaking in pages in between stirring. So rude!

I can't help myself.

I've been a Book Luster my whole life. Summer holidays stretched before me and my equally book wormy bff, L. We were completely taken aback when the local library limited the number of books we could take out in a week. I think it was twelve...we'd sit side by side with two stacks of Babysitter's Club books and chew through twenty four in a week. That's a little less than two hundred books a summer.

Currently my lust is attached to the I Am Number Four series. Series Lust is the worst. There's already all that foreplay...

The Fall of Five will be my constant companion from now until I turn the last page. It's YA (Young Adult. Which I am not). I have a special fondness for the YA genre. Perhaps because of all my time spent with it as an eleven-year-old. There's no Book Love like First Book Love.

I would not be a writer without the books I've loved. They were the constant companions of a shy pre-teen and a lonely single mom and all my other iterations in between.

Because all I want to do is get back to reading, I'll leave you with a list of some of my more recent Book Boyfriends:

- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

A beautiful and richly imagined Universe. I haven't wanted to be in a book so badly since Hogwarts.

-  The Quartet by Lois Lowry

The Giver was the first book in this series and it came out when I was still in elementary school (which was, to be brief, a few years ago). Last summer, I re-read it as I often do and decided to google "What happened to Jonas at the end of The Giver?" Instead of receiving the straightforward Internet answer I'd been hoping for, I received the life-changing news that Lois Lowry has written MORE BOOKS and that The Giver was actually a series.
Kiss me goodbye for at least a week.

- The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

Completely my friend A's fault and she was the one who paid the price. A brilliant fantasy novel with complex, flawed characters and breathtaking plot turns. Described (well) as Harry Potter for grown-ups. The sequel is equally readable and there's a third somewhere on the horizon.

- I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron

I picked this up shortly after she died. She was a brilliant writer and taught me a lot about who I want to be as a writer just by being so transparent. This is a lovely, lovely memoir. So funny. Please read.

 

-The Perks of Being a Wallflower  by Stephen Chbosky

I know this has been made into a film and although I'm obsessed with Emma Watson because of my aforementioned Harry Potter addiction I loved this book too much to watch it.

-Outrageous Openness: Letting the Divine Take the Lead by Tosha Silver

Tosha is brilliant. If you have met me, I have very likely recommended this book to you already.  It's hilarious and insightful without being the least bit didactic. Also, I'm friends with her on facebook which makes me feel hella cool.

I'd love to write more, but I have some reading to do...

What are you reading? What are your Lifelong Book Loves?

I'll be the one cheering on Loriens from the sidelines,

Er

What's in a Mane?

Text sent out to several of my girlfriends about two weeks ago:

"Of all the people we know, who's most likely to burn off half her hair in a freak colour mishap, six days before her wedding?"

(Hint: the answer is Me)

When I was in my twenties, I sincerely believed that I would no longer do dumb shit by the time I hit my thirties. And while I have immaculate credit and tiny rrsps that make me seem like a proper grown-up, I also do things like burn off half my hair. THE WEEK BEFORE MY WEDDING.


My friend, J usually does my colour for me. She's been busy giving birth to the most delightful little boy. So, my other friend (also a J) was planning to come help me out but she'd been out of town and needed some time with her delightful hubby.


My (now) hubby said,

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for one of your friends?"

This is not a story about how I took good advice...

When the bag over the colour started to get hot, I took it off. The hair underneath was BILLOWING smoke.

It melted off in huge chunks that resembled scorched SOS pads.

***Note to all you ladies: If you find a man who can make you laugh while you pull off your chemically melted hair by the fist full, I recommend that you marry this man as soon as possible***

I'm not immune to vanity, but I was fairly quick to pick up on the perspective that my love laid on me. I did not lose my hair because of chemo therapy. It's just hair.*

*All perspective aside, it was six days before my wedding. I cried, took two Cypralex and went to bed*

However...

I've learned that nothing happens "to" me. Not without my participation or consent.

So.

That begs the question: why in the name of all that's Holy would I do such a thing to myself?

The mystic in me conjures the image of the snake shedding her skin...the comic in me thinks I possibly did it for the cheap laugh at my own expense.

My very wise colleague, A suggested that my mind was so frazzled that I was vibrating at crazy high frequencies and quite literally fried my head.

Perhaps as a test? A fiance who can love a moulting woman can handle most adverse situations with ease. One of the only things that consoled me in the first half hour was his suggestion that I could blog about it one day :)

I kept enough hair for my bff's brilliant cousin to style it for the wedding. The next day, I cut it all off.

If you think you're not a vain person - try losing your hair. I always thought I was pretty chill, but in truth, I've hidden behind my hair for most of my adult life. Only when I'm at my slenderist have I ventured anywhere even remotely in the neighbourhood of short hair.

There's no place left to hide now...

Stay tuned for either:

A: a revolutionary life change

 

or

 

B: a wig

As my friend, J's mum used to say, "You take yourself with you wherever you go."

Love the one you're with,

Er

Let's finish with a hair montage, shall we?

They call me Dr Love

"It's a good and bad thing to be considered an expert in love. I don't think there's any point in pretending that you get to be an expert by meeting your soul mate early on, going through a few meaningful ups and downs, marrying in a cloud of good taste or even in a meteor shower of funk and crunk, and then dying, 50 or 60 years later, having had a faithful and fulfilling love life. We don't call those people experts. We call them lucky." (-Amy Bloom)

I am not one of these "lucky" few (nor, if you're interested is Amy Bloom, author of the above-referenced article). Some might say that I've done the research necessary in order to become an expert, however. If wisdom comes from learning from mistakes, I've made enough mistakes in love to be a sage.

Nonetheless, last Wednesday, I got married. Not for the first time. It's an entirely different matter to call oneself an optimist over the age of thirty (especially with so much mileage). However, I believe this story calls for a glass-half-full mentality.

Once upon a time...

In 1992...

two little girls met in Mrs Reid's fourth grade class.

(Hint: I am one of those two girls)

The other girl is my oldest and dearest friend, L. We celebrated our twentieth anniversary last summer in Vegas. We discovered that we are too old for roller coasters and met the actual living descendants of Captain and Maria Von Trapp (We went for tacos with them! At 2am! At Jack-in-the-Box!)

She is my family. She is my heart.

I have always loved the family that came with her (as she did mine) not just because they're awesome, but because they belong to her.


So. My point. I just married my best sister-friend's little brother.



Think about that friend.  The one with whom you first shaved (hacked) your legs. Who listened while you sang Rizzo's part in Grease (over and over). The one you call when your life falls over. The one who sends you flowers with quotes from Bio Dome on the card.

And then you fall in love with her brother and the two of you get married.

That's what I did. On Wednesday. August 14th because it was their beloved grandparents' wedding anniversary. I married my best friend's brother. Not only that, but I got to marry his WHOLE FAMILY. And he got to marry mine.

The whole thing is so filled with joyous memories that distilling it once again becomes my blessing and my curse.

Deep breath...

The day before the wedding, by miracle or design, my fiance and I find ourselves alone in a quiet house. It is a "Remember This Moment" moment. As though the collective sum of our troubled pasts has somehow imploded to create something unspeakably perfect.

Our sister (!!!) L and her amazing partner collected driftwood from Kootenay Lake and created a stunning arch under which we
were married.

 

Everyone cooked. My dad played guitar and sang a playlist (vetted by my mother) of the best love songs ever written. My new brother-in-law brought his turntables all the way from Calgary and played the most beautiful and irreverent set you could imagine.

We wore what we felt like wearing. My new husband wore a Canucks hat and purple high tops. I wore white. Yeah. I know.

We didn't send out invitations. Mostly, we ran into people who were really excited to spend our wedding Day with us and those people showed up.

It was the perfect day. It is the perfect love. The perfect family.

Listen Friends: I would never pretend that I was patient with love. Even if I tried to get away with it, no one who's ever met me would buy it.

I lost faith in love many times after nearly killing myself trying to convince the world of my worth (or lack thereof). I tried so many goddamned times to give my love to people who didn't want it.

My dear friend, J's mom, Donna used to say, "Better no one than an asshole." Now. Not all of the men I've spent time with were assholes. Some were very lovely. Some would qualify in spades. Nonetheless, I venture to expand Donna's saying oh-so-slightly to include, "Better no one than the wrong one."

I cannot say if this is true for you. It has been true for me. Insincerity chafes at the crotch for me. I never get away with it for long before Life kicks me hard in the proverbial junk.

And so, after many years of swimming against the stream, I gave in and adopted a dog. I had pined for a dog for many years. "I'm alone every night. Why not?" This was the physical manifestation of my deciding to make my solo life a joyous one. Not by going to the bar. I was a single mom. I learned to step out beyond the limitations of barely tolerating my own company into the liberating territory of loving myself. It has not been easy. I do not pretend that your road has been easy or will be easy. In fact, I'm SO SORRY for how hard it has already been.

All I can promise is that it's worth it. Please believe me. Just a little?

This bitch got her happily ever after when all hope was exhausted. My best friend is my sister. Her brother is my husband. He's the yin to my yang. The perfect fit. He loves my child the way parents do. He does, like, all the dishes. Seriously. 85% or more.



Please wait. Or don't wait. Make your life as awesome as possible the way it is now. That way, if your perfect fit never shows up, at least you're having a kick-ass time of it.

That was my "strategy" anyway.

From someone who's been there,

-Er

Happiest. Chick. Ever.

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony." —Mahatma Gandhi

Okay. So. Was the tone of my last blog (http://beeatree.blogspot.ca/2013/07/why-i-go-to-therapy-and-you-should-too.html?spref=fb) upbeat and hopeful? That was my intention...

Buuut in the spirit of mental health being a somewhat squeamish subject for some of you, I've decided to write a follow-up piece about how I am currently living the way I intend to MOST OF THE TIME IN MOST AREAS OF MY LIFE!

Have you any idea how miraculous this is?! It means that all that needs to shift in order to be living EXACTLY as I intend to is the scale.

Here's how it shakes down:

*I am writing my Truth and telling it to the world. Approximately SIX HUNDRED of you are reading my truth and to you I am deeply, staggeringly and humbly  grateful. Thank you. A lot.

*I teach yoga one night a week. About a dozen of you are devoted students. About fifty of you are semi-regular. Some of you have come once and not liked it very much. Some of you have thought about coming half a dozen times but Survivor was on. Some of you didn't know I was a yoga teacher prior to reading this post. You will find teachers who are stronger, bendier, balancier than me. But I deeply love the transformative power of this practice and I am thrilled to be able to share it with you.

I'm sending the biggest blessing I have to every single one of you that I practice with. Or will practice with to any degree. Or not. I bow to you. I bow to my colleagues all over the world who are spreading the good word. I bow as deeply as a person can bow to my teachers.

PS you are ALL my teachers.

*I have the most inspiring, kindest, most forgiving, non-judgemental, supportive, talented, funniest, amazingest fiance ever. Really. Best of everything. I recently thanked his mom for him. Everyone who has met him will testify. He really is the best human*

*with the exception of my daughter. If there is a cooler human than her, I've yet to encounter him/her. My fiance agrees.

*We grow some of our own food. Lettuce, kale, spinach (which didn't really turn out, but we eat it anyway). Soon-to-be wax beans. Some herbs that I planted and can't identify because I chucked them in pots and rows without rhyme or labels. We eat organic meat and some tofu and when we're not eating quinoa every night, we're eating bacon because it makes us happy.

In the spirit of full disclosure, we still eat sugar. But we both drink a green thing every day.

*I practice yoga (fairly) regularly, eat (mostly) really clean, meditate with deep devotional gratitude. And I feel DAMN good.  I've been thinner (which usually means that I'm stressed right out and not eating). I'm not without jiggle. But I'm in my body and it's a conversation instead of a civil war between my ass and my self esteem. I don't define my love for myself (or lack thereof) by the number on the scale. In fact, I threw my scale in the garbage. I haven't weighed myself in years. This is a big deal for me. I used to weigh myself at least three times a day and judge myself HARD. I love myself more than that now.

This is a hard-earned happiness. I've earned it and I'm appreciating every single second. I only have to get slightly pissy before I realize that I have everything I could ever want.

So. Why is this chick telling us how crazy she is one day and then how happy she is the next? Because, Dear Reader. I want you to be happy too. I want you to hear it from someone who's been to the dark and back. This happiness is available to you once you survive whatever it is you're going through.

Rooting for you,

-Er

Why I go to Therapy (and you should too)

-Emma Forrest Your Voice in my Head (which is, incidentally, a brilliant memoir about therapy)

I've been at least moderately messed up for a good chunk of my adult life. More disastrous than some, less of a train wreck than others. Sometimes just an endearing little f*ck-up. Sometimes an outwardly together, closeted basket-case. Sometimes in full-on breakdown to the point that my friend, J affectionately calls me, "Roadkill".

 

 

"Erin, people escape themselves through the over-indulgence in drugs, alcohol, television, food, books, sex, work, exercise...what's your addiction?" -My First Therapist

-Me (in response)
"Do I have to pick just one?"

 

I've been in and out of therapy various times for various reasons in various degrees of f*ck-up-edness so I'm in a perfect position to recommend it to you.

 

Gentle Reader. You do not need therapy because you are some kind of broken. YOU ARE A DIVINE PIECE OF LIFE'S GRANDEST HOPES FOR ITSELF. Chances are, you've forgotten this tidbit. I forgot it a few times and therein lies the trouble.

 

"Erin, do you know what you're REALLY addicted to?" -My Second Therapist

-Me (in response)
"uh....."

"drama." - My Second Therapist (in response to my slack-jawed response)

-Me

"Ouch...yeah..."

Hi, my name is Erin and I'm a drama-holic

 

 

My ego really used to run the whole show. It's a clever little ego.

 

 

 

Sometimes I forgot about Real Love altogether and focused every ounce of my energy on what A Course in Miracles calls  the "special relationship". Essentially the special relationship is when my ego gets together with another ego and we have this big, dramatic ego dance. If you are me, you eventually run straight for the hills and straight into another even specialer relationship.

 

Therapy has brought me closer to my real self. It has given me a dialogue to have with myself and my loved ones which gets me closer to what ACIM calls a "Holy Relationship" which means that rather than our egos doing the whiny poopy baby dance, our Spirits get to hang out for the sole purpose of getting us closer who we truly are.

 

It's a far preferable option. 

 

 (not even trying to make crazy eyes...)

Some Things I love About Therapy.

(And I think you will too)

 

1. It is intense self-care

 

We've very nearly gotten to the point where we can justify carving out time to care for our bodies without apologising for it. Doesn't it stand to reason that our minds and hearts deserve just as much TLC? There's still a stigma attached, but let's just ditch that for good. It's not serving anybody to fake happy.

 

2. It's an investment

 

Think of it this way: in therapy, you're spending your money on an hour's worth of conversation about anything that's stuck in your craw with someone who has no agenda other than your successful journey into yourself.

 

**Yes, I'm sure there are some less than reputable people in this profession. I've noticed, however that when I put the sincere intention out there to find a trustworthy guide, one always shows up.**

 

3. It's probably covered

 

I'll bet that if you have extended benefits through work (in BC) that you have some coverage available for counselling.

 

If not, look into it at your University, community mental health organisation, religious organisation or speak with your physician. There's coverage available for this stuff, people! Lets use it!

 

4. Insight

 

"Erin, you put other people's feelings ahead of your own"

Do you do this too? It's generally thought of as a positive, generous way to show up in the world, right? Except if, like me, it means that you stay in a situation looooooong after it's stopped serving you to the point of self-destruction.

 

Therapists point this stuff out.  (So does Nina Simone)

 

 

 

Maybe this isn't your particular hang-up. Maybe your hang-up is something completely different. It probably is. But paying someone to spell it out for you is mightily helpful when it comes to healing those bastard hang-ups.

 

*Note: I am also an enthusiastic over-reactor

 

 

I had undiagnosed depressive episodes several times in my life, until my therapist told me:

 

-You're not sleeping

-You can't concentrate (I hadn't read a novel in SIX MONTHS)

-You're not eating

-You get every single cold bug that floats around on the breeze?

 

These weren't questions. He was straight up telling me.

 

It was such a relief. As my friend, J says, "You can't hit what you can't see." I couldn't see it until I talked to someone who knew the score.

 

5. You. Are. Whole.

 

Did I mention that already? It bears repeating. Sometimes we need to be reminded by someone who has made his/her life's work to care.

 

If you're anything like me (and I'm going to go ahead and assume that you are to some degree since you're reading my blog) you're on a lifelong quest into the heart of yourself. How you get there is up to you.  As Gandhi said, "Truth is one, paths are many". It can be a tough slog. Uphill, both ways, barefoot in the snow. If you're on this trek, guaranteed you will occasionally put barriers in your own way. So why not use every, single resource at your disposal in order to fumble your way toward grace?

 

Perhaps you're wondering, "Why is she telling the world all about her foibles?"

I really just want you to feel less alone. If we're all authentic with one another about our bruises, we can at the very least bear witness to one another's struggles and realize that we're all in it together.

”I offer you peace. I offer you love. I offer you friendship. I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings. My wisdom flows from the Highest Source. I salute that Source in you. Let us work together for unity and love.” ~ Gandhi

 

Got your back,

 

-Er

 



Irish Blessings

May you have warm words on a cold evening. 
a full moon on a dark night,
and the road downhill all the way to your door.
-Irish Blessing

I just touched down after the trip of a lifetime...aaand I have no idea what to say about it.
















You'd think that a life-changing experience such as this would net me a ton of raw material, but in truth, the raw material is so raw that I can't even pin down a story.

I've been blessed to travel a lot and (somewhat) disciplined enough to write about most of it. A standard travel diary is what I've often used to record my wanderings in the past.

"And then we went here"

"And then we ate this."

In recent years, I've been so bold as to venture into, "After we did this, I felt that."

I've practiced yoga in four countries in two years and written inspired lesson plans and boring, self-involved journal entries.

Truthfully, the most interesting ways in which I've described my travels is via Facebook statuses and emails to my friend, B.

So how does this modern BFA write this trip and how it changed me? Dear God, not with poetry...

I tell the Internet.

Dear Dad,

There may be inaccuracies in my telling of this tale. Forgive me. I am as much a storyteller as you are a scientist.

Love, Er

This trip began as a tiny seed, three years ago.  My dad (an historian and full-on genealogy buff for my entire memory) was torn as to whether or not to renew his ancestry.ca membership when he received an email from E, "I think you belong to us"

We do. We didn't just find new relatives. We found new family. In Ireland. A whole bunch of them. And they're awesome.

This story begins in 1906 when a young Irishman fell in love with a young woman from a lower class. They leave Ireland, marrying on the ship that carried them to Canada. And back and back and back. I have ancestors and they're as immediate as anything.

See? It's a HUGE story.

I expressed to my dear friend/brilliant yoga student, R that I'd been experiencing writers' block around this post. She said wisely, "don't try to write the whole thing. Let it sink in and then write the moments."

So...

My Irish Trip

Part One

Ireland is really pretty and green. I had fun. We saw a lot of castles and drank some Guinness. 

The end.

Okay. Now for real.

Dublin at 5am when the streets are still dirty and we walk down the river Liffey and past a pile of human feces on the boardwalk. It is covered politely with a restaurant napkin. My mother wonders what we got ourselves into. We have three breakfasts and then sleep for four hours.

Live music in EVERY pub. Every night of the week. The kind of bands we pay a lot of money to see in Canada when the opportunity presents itself. My throat is raw from singing along.

Hospitality so immaculate that it begins with a recommendation to visit the Dublin Zoo from the gentleman at Irish customs who stamps our passports (we do. It's the best zoo I've ever seen). The hospitality doesn't end until our cousin drops us off at the bus depot in Wexford two weeks later (again at 5am). In between, we are inundated with family love. They chauffeur us, tour us, feed us and hug us the entire time.

Sierra's favourite memory, "The clothesline." I admit it's one of mine too.

The death-defying country roads. Fiery death around every bend. Don't even ask about the fruit stands. Wexford strawberries are worth risking your life for, but risk it you shall.

Family. Loads of family. Kids with adorable accents. Sierra's first sleepover with her three new cousins/bffs. "I will be brave, Mom. I am not ashamed"
(Yeah. That's a direct quote. I'm in trouble).

Time. On vacation with my daughter, I am the kind of mother I always mean to be the rest of the time.



















Bonding with my Canadian family as well as the new Irish one. Time shared between Sierra and her uncle, her grandma, her papa. Loud time, quiet time. Time to drink coffee (the best coffee) while looking out over Waterford Harbour. Precious, precious time.



There were castles and abbeys. They took our breath away. More than once we went on private tours of these places because not only does our Irish family know EVERYBODY but they were also so generous in sharing their time and passion for history.

There was a kayak trip for which there is no photographic evidence because Jonathan dropped the camera in the water (sorry, Jonathan. Last time).

As is customary in my family, there are many inside jokes that no one else will laugh at but have to be included nonetheless. I'll refrain from elaborating because I've promised myself I'll avoid self-indulgent,boring travel-diary prose.

You're a Ballyhack

What does it mean to discover that you've got a whole second home, far away across the sea? To discover heritage you didn't know you had and experience it to such a first-hand degree that it becomes part of your marrow? To absorb the suffering and pride and resilience and humour of a culture that's simultaneously yours' and not? To leave home to go home?

(I'm not entirely sure. It hasn't fully sunk in yet.)

But I'm pretty it means that I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

I ate a lobster roll at Hook Lighthouse that all other lobster rolls will fail to live up to, got lost in a yew-maze with my cousin, traveled 36 hours with my brother (senses of humour intact) and was many times moved to tears by the embrace of a family brought back together after over a hundred years by new technology and passionate persistence.

I dearly hope we can one day return the hospitality of our Irish loved ones and show them what Canada's been up to over the last century.

Until that day, I'll keep the kettle on,

Er

Ode to girl friends

If all my friends were to jump off a bridge, I wouldn't jump with them, I'd be at the bottom to catch them

- Unknown

I am ALL about my best girlfriends. Not just today, but always. Not to be totally dramatic (never!) but I would die without them.

They have picked me up (some of them multiple times), seen me through, seen through me and loved me when the best I could muster for myself was mild disdain.

This post is a love letter to my lady friends, the world over.

You know the ones. The ones with whom you can pick back up after the greatest distance and longest time and laugh like twelve year olds. The ones who will take your call in the middle of the night when you are in distress (love you, L).

They help you move (literally and figuratively), drive you to the airport and style your hair.

Don't get me wrong. I count my fiance, dad and bro among my tightest and bestest friends. But there are some convos you can only have with your nearest and dearest gf's.

J (via text): I may never eat gluten again. Feel free to stage an intervention if I do.

Me: I know! Isn't your poop so much better?! My gluten- free poop is so much nicer!

J (after a short pause): That is a lot of personal information. Your secret is safe with me.

***NOTE: bloggers blog their secrets***

Me: BFF's talk about their poop.

J: Yeah. We do.

One of my BFF's, M recently drove six hours to bring me Cinnzeo and spend less than a day with me for my birthday. Slimy, peely leper-looking face masks, Indian food and so many more laughs than I can count and then she drove six hours home. Who does that?!

My friends do. Dear God, I love them.

They have baked birthday cakes for me, convinced me to stop wearing mascara on my bottom lashes, given me funny nicknames (Lefty comes from A after I called to complain of having forgotten to put deodorant on my left armpit) and been so very patient and encouraging as I stumbled and fumbled my way through life.

They come with kind menfolk who have been my Knights in Shining Armour while I waited for my own to arrive.

They live in Victoria, Vancouver, Nicaragua, the West Kootenays and just down the street. We have known each other all our lives or just a few months. It doesn't matter. They are so dear to me.

Our lives are busy and sometimes the best we can manage is a text message...

(Actual text message received from my cousin)

And this is my love letter to them.

I love you. Thank you for including me and my kiddo even though we threw off your table by being single. Thank you for sending flowers and prayers and holding my hand when I fell apart. You are warrior queens, every single one of you and my life is richer and infinitely more fabulous for having known you.

You bless me with your friendship and talk of bowel movements.

You know who you are.


With love and friendship,

Er

Home Sweet...Everything...

“Home is the nicest word there is.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder

I am completely hooked on home right now. (I've always been kind of a homebody, but it's really on steroids these days). There's nowhere else on Earth I can imagine feeling more peaceful than I do when I'm at home these days. There's nowhere I'd rather be.

This house has been witness to so many of my stories. Indeed, I haven't lived in a place as long as this since I left my parents house, three months after my eighteenth birthday. (Admittedly, I have gone back a few times for varying length - the longest of which was December to August when I was nineteen). **


But I digress. We're talking about my home now. Where I've been divorced and dumped and ditched (and done a little bit of ditching myself). I've cried and learned more lessons than I care to share at the moment.

Some things I've learned while living in my house:

- If you have carpet in your kitchen, your child will vomit orange soda and hot dogs on said carpet (even if that's not what you fed her).

-If you install new carpets two weeks prior to getting a new puppy, you are crazy (no one would do this except me, right?!)

-A good housekeeper is worth her weight in gold and then some.


In spite of its rich history, our home is my only real craving these days (red velvet cupcakes notwithstanding). Perhaps because we've been so busy. All three of us going in different directions. Perhaps it's because my daughter and I are leaving for Europe in ten days and won't see my fiance (or the dog!!) for two whole weeks. I know. No one feels sorry for me.

It could also be because home is WONDERFUL.

Wanna know one of my favourite things about home right now (there are many)?!

I LIVE WITH ANOTHER WRITER!!

Top Three Awesomest Things about Living with Another Writer:

1. Shame. When your partner is writing and you are not, you feel like you should be. This shame is mutually beneficial and highly motivational.

2. Inspiration. My partner is a completely brilliant song writer which is not the way my brain works at all. I am in constant awe of his passion and dedication to his talent.

3. Understanding. I am not doing the dishes right now because I am writing. My love understands. In fact, he routinely picks up after me without complaint. I'm a lucky little chicken.

I often have to remind myself to live in this moment, particularly with end-of-school craziness and no sign of life slowing down in the foreseeable future.

I have to make myself take the time to sit down on our porch swing (get used to hearing about it) even though it's not that nice out. It's important to feel the wet grass on my toes and the wind blowing my hair into my lip gloss because life does speed by.

So. What's so great about home?

- My heinous sweatpants (my fiance calls them my Give Up Pants)

- The garden!! (I planted kale! And fennel! My dad called me a hippie for the fennel but it's worth it)

- The aforementioned porch swing

- The 100 year old lilac hedge

- The people who live with me. Including fur people.

Was there ever a better time for a John Denver break? I think not.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJUnnnXg_oY


Are you in love with home?

What does "home" mean to you?

Be it ever so humble,

Er

**Note I have to be very precise with certain details because my parents routinely scan this blog for historical accuracy. Unless you are in my immediate family, nothing about this detail is interesting or relevant.