Are you a holiday hero?

Yesterday my coworker shared with me a quote about organizational success that got my wheels turning. He said, “If you want to keep great people, don’t rely on the hero.”

What? But heroes help people. Heroes save the day. Don’t they?

Not always. The hero in this instance is not the courageous or gallant figure like in the storybooks. The hero in this instance is someone who has difficulty honouring themselves and their needs. They are always trying to please others and get the job done no matter what the cost. The hero stays at work into the wee hours making everyone else’s jobs easier but their own. The hero is someone whose determination to please their boss or coworkers comes at the expense of their own health and happiness.

So as I thought about this, I realized it rings true in every aspect of our lives, particularly at this time of year.

How often do we find ourselves trying to make others happy during the holidays? How often do we sacrifice our own plans in order to run around and see every possible person that we know? How often do we say yes to parties and celebrations in order to make sure people know we care for them?

But how many people get sick in November and December? How many are completely rundown and exhausted by the New Year?

This is no coincidence.

Holiday heroes are out in full force. I think if there is one time of year when it’s all about “others” and not “us”, it’s now. Sadly we listen less to our own needs because that’s seen as being greedy – and no one can be greedy during the holidays.

I was reflecting on my own “hero-ness”, and for me, what I sacrifice is my rest. I’m already a pretty social person, so when holidays roll around I ramp it up ten fold. I say yes to all the wine and cheeses, all the dinner parties, partly because I want to see everyone, but partly because I want them to know I value them. However, in the past, this has meant almost 30 days straight of being “out”. That’s like, 150 hours a month of being cheery and on your game.

But in fact, being so social over the holidays, is unnatural. According to some eastern philosophies and the Celtic calendar, the months leading up to the Winter Solstice is the prime time to rest, reflect, and introspect.

I believe in western society we have a skewed version of rest. Rest is not for the weak, or so they say. Our society has created some rules around rest. For example, one night a week seems reasonable to stay in and do nothing. One full day a week might seem ok too. But what if we block off two entire weeks in a row from seeing anybody? No evenings out, no socializing with friends or family or loved ones?

Would you see that person as someone taking care of themselves, or would we see them as someone who was being anti-social, depressed, or lazy? What are our rules around rest? What defines too much rest?

More importantly, why do we feel a sense of guilt around pleasing ourselves first? Why can’t we empathize with those who just need to lay low in this busy time, without seeing it as an insult or that that person value us less than the other people on their agenda? Perhaps they are just listening to what their bodies are telling them at that very moment.

So in my opinion, a real holiday hero is someone who is able to rest. They are able to say no without feeling a sense of guilt. They are confident enough to know that not running around finding the "perfect" gift, or hosting the best dinner party, or attending every celebration, will not make them look like scrooge. In contrast, they know what will make them sick and rundown. A hero we should admire is someone who understands and respects their bodies, and knows when and how much to give versus when they just need to stay in with a cup of tea and a movie :)

What kind of hero are you going to be this year?

What's your shadow side?

What’s your shadow side?

Can you think of someone who has really gotten under your skin lately and you don’t know why? Someone who has set you off for no logical reason?

Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot about what my emotional triggers are and with who they come out. It all started because I went to a yoga class recently where my teacher talked about a thing called our “shadow side”.

Our shadow side or sides are the deep dark parts of ourselves, which we reject or try to ignore. Some examples might be our inability for self-expression, a lack of confidence, discomfort with our sexuality, a need for control, perfectionism, etc. etc. We judge ourselves for these qualities and deny them these within our identity. When this happens they get taken away from the spotlight of our consciousness.

But what happens when they get put back into the spotlight?

Without knowing it, we come face to face with our shadow sides more often than not because other people are true reflections of them.

What happens when someone who hates the perfectionist within, meets another perfectionist?

What happens when our shadow sides emerge out of the dark in our loved ones, our friends, our coworkers, or strangers? What emotions arise?

I, for example, have noticed that in the past I would get intensely frustrated and annoyed at people who were soft spoken or overly timid. I would look at them, and would feel my anger and irritation rising in my body. I almost couldn’t stand being around them. I didn’t have patience to deal with their shyness. Why couldn’t they just speak up? Why couldn’t they just say what was on their mind? Why didn’t they have the confidence to stand up for themselves?

Well, I now look back and realize, that’s exactly what I was working through at the time. That was my one of my shadows – my hesitation to speak my mind. I rejected the part of me that was trepidatious about being loud and more self-expressive. And so when it was reflected back to me in someone else, I rejected it in them too.

Another thought is that sometimes these are patterns that we learn from our family by osmosis. So when we lash out a parent or sibling (which happens more than any other people we know), perhaps it is because they are doing exactly what we refuse to accept about ourselves. Maybe we see them working too hard to please others and this annoys us. Maybe they don’t speak their mind in an argument, maybe have a strong work ethic and get stressed easily and this triggers us.

Whatever it is, it’s interesting to see what patterns are there, recognize them, and start to wonder, what is my reaction and why am I having it? And what do I want to do about it? Is there an alternative?

We have the power to change those reactions when we realize underneath, it’s just judgment about ourselves. Can we become compassionate toward them and therefore toward our own shadows?

Today, I notice that my shadows have changed, but they are still there and they come up in the workplace, in friendships, and even in intimate relationships.

I guess my resolution is to now come at it with a sense of curiosity and see it as an opportunity to reflect on myself. I’m interested to know, where is this coming from? WHY am I so annoyed at this person? And can I connect it back to something that I am refusing to accept about my current identity?

After all, I’ve gone from a child who was shy, soft spoken, and timid, to someone who is now writing a personal blog and speaking in front of others as a yoga teacher! And most importantly, these quiet qualities in orders no longer trigger me. Hope that’s inspiration enough ☺

Is Halloween about horror or love?

What if we treated every day like Halloween? What if everyday, we were able to enjoy the magic of our imaginations? What if everyday, it didn’t matter that a dancing unicorn could be hugging Lady Gaga in a meat dress?

I just got home from the one of the BEST street parties I have ever been to – the Church Street Block Party – right in the heart of “the village”, downtown Toronto. And I have to say, after spending a couple of hours there, I feel inspired by the love, the fun, and the spirit of thousands of hyped up Halloween hopping Torontonians.

Thousands of strangers all dancing to Rihanna, talking pictures with each other, and smiling at everyone and everything around them. No one was a stranger.

What touched me was how uninhibited we become by the costumes that we wear. I stood there watching people for nearly an hour as they interacted with people they didn’t know. They complimented each other on their outfits, they high fived the weird ones, they posed with the fantastical. Ironically, putting up these costume barriers, actually bring us closer together. No one is an outsider because we are all the same in our ability to let go, be silly, and not take life too seriously, for one night.

Barbie was not holding hands with Ken, she was making out with E.T. Priscilla Queen of the Desert troop to sing with Gene Simmons.

In fact, you would never think that a special occasion such as Halloween, the night when old spirits come back to haunt the living, could actually be a day embodied by tolerance, acceptance, and love.

But that’s what this party was all about. In my mind this celebration, was about diversity. It shone a light on our ability to let down our guards and celebrate among people, who under every day circumstances would probably not have the courage to talk to each other. But somehow, under all that dress we accept that we are all the same and we trust one another.

My friends and I asked a few people “what does Halloween mean to you” – and it was unanimous. The avatar, the mad hatter, and the Crayola man all said “love and fun”.

So if we’re all just dying for love and fun, do we really need costumes to do that?

Why are we so afraid of 'weird'?

I had the most interesting experience on the London tube this evening. I hopped on at Russell Square on my way back to my friend’s place in Clapham Common. It was about 9:45pm, and I was alone.

I generally feel an aura of safety around me when I travel solo but sometimes the London underground can set me off a bit – I’ve seen some strange things down there. So I was alert.

I got down to the platform and noticed ahead of me were a set of long legs marching along. The legs were wearing jet black pointy heeled boots that went ¾ up the thighs, The upper thighs were bare, up until the cameo patterned skin tight booty shorts, barely covering this person’s buttocks. I couldn’t make out the rest of the outfit since the person was half way up the stairs already. Needless to say, I was automatically thinking “street worker? stripper?”, and slowed my pace just a bit.

But then I caught a glimpse of this person...not a young woman at all! In fact, not even a woman! It was a balding, grey haired old man.

Very odd I thought.

I got on the train and took a spot standing in the middle of the car. When I looked over, I caught a glimpse of this man, standing only a few feet away from me. His belly was entirely bare and hanging out, he had a matching cameo-patterned cropped top, and a black leather collar around his neck. No one was standing near him.

I thought, this is really strange. What’s his story?

Then I looked at his face. And I kid you not, what I saw moved me. He had the face of an angel. He looked deeply serene, so content, and so unmoved by all the stares, whispers, and snickers around him.

My gaze was glued to this interesting man. He must have been nearly 70, but his face didn’t show it. His skin glowed. His eyes were a clear blue.

I became intensely curious. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to prove to people around him that he was the angel that I saw, despite his unsual appearance. I didn’t have the guts to strike up a conversation and ask about his clothes, but I did have the courage to move closer and ask him if he wanted to take a seat that had just become available.

And in the most beautiful British accent he said to me, “No, you go ahead dear”. And so I sat directly in front of him and smiled. He smiled back. He continued to stand there unmoved by the stupid circus of judgmental onlookers surrounding him.

I spent the next 2 minutes or so looking around, feeling my heart ache as I saw two young Japanese girls looking and laughing at him. And a young couple gazing over and then back at each other, snickering together. And two complete strangers who both noticed this man and at the same time looked at each other and found comfort in the difference they saw in him but not in themselves.

I thought to myself - how dare they! None of these people know what’s going on in his head or life. And they don’t even have the courage to find out. They just find solace in snickering and assuming that he’s a complete weirdo and they are not.

Had he been harmful, then that would be a different story. But he was minding his own business, and what’s more, he had the will to be different. He had the courage to bust people’s perceptions of what’s normal and acceptable.

At the next stop, the man got off. As he walked out the door, he said, in his lovely well-mannered British accent “Pardon me, please”, and kindly slipped by and was gone. I couldn’t help but notice on his way out, what he was carrying over his shoulder. It was a black book bag and written on it was something like “Management Conference Association”.

That just did it for me! I bet not one other person on the train even noticed that. Instead, as soon as he left, it was like a giant secret bubble had been popped and a huge sigh of relief and laughter followed.

Nothing had to be said because it was obvious what they were all thinking. “Thank God he’s gone. What a weirdo. That was soooo bizarre.”

I was nearly brought to tears. I imagined all the other people in the world that have to face this sort of ridicule and speculation on a daily basis just because we are a culture afraid of difference.

Well what the hell are we afraid of? Why can’t a man wear high heels and a black collar and spandex shorts if he wants to? It doesn’t mean he isn’t well mannered and a gentle soul. Maybe he wears a business suit by day and wants to make a point with this alternative outfit at night. Who knows? Who cares.

In any case, I got back to my friend’s place (a fellow anthropologist) and we talked about the sadness in the world when “difference” is such a scary thing for most people. And how Lady Gaga can wear a meat dress for God’s sake but people still feel they have the right to laugh at an ordinary person who they know nothing about.

So I ask everyone who reads this, next time you find yourself being entertained at the expense of another person, ask yourself “what is really so funny?” and then get curious about what that person’s story could be. It may surprise you.

Why is it that when it rains, it pours?

Why?
Because we are more powerful than we think.
We have gotten so good at asking for things, for wanting, wishing, and seeking out more, more, more...that when the universe actually answers, we are totally unprepared for it!

I'm going through this right now. I have a checklist of things that I have been "asking for"/"praying for"/"hoping for" (whatever you want to call it). And I've basically gotten them. I've carved out my ideal situation - with jobs, relationships, living arrangements - all the core elements that make up a happy, satisfying life in my mind...

But I'm getting exhausted. So there is one thing that I have forgotten to ask for. SUPPORT.

I need an UMBRELLA!!!

We live in such a time of excess and abundance and OVERLOAD...we're in constant limbo between the tension of having it all and not being able to cope with it all. We're like dogs trying to catch our own tails sometimes. Time is speeding up. Things are getting more complicated. What to do?

Ask for help. Weed things out. The full moon just passed (generally busiest time of month for many people) and now it wanes. It is the time to let things go.

I for one, despite having asked for some rain, refuse to be caught in a torrential downpour!!!

So we'll see how it goes. I still want the job/relationships/cool living situation but my next "wish" is for support in keeping me on track and keeping the things in my life that will help me do that, while weeding out the ones that won't. Basically I need a highly selective-semi-permeable umbrella.

That exists doesn't it?

Is your car a vegetarian?

Mine is. I swear it's true. My sister and I had an hour conversation with my car on the weekend confirming that it likes lettuce, spring rolls, beans, onions, and for dessert, strawberry ice cream! But hamburgers? Absolutely not. Yuck.

I have no idea how the conversation started - I think it had something to do with my brake pads not working properly and my poor car shuddering every time I tried to slow down or stop. For some reason this was hilarious to my sister. She has a sort of infectious laugh that is impossible to ignore.

With her giggling in the passenger seat, I had two options - get even more worked up, start yelling at her to shut up, and outwardly curse the god damn autoshop that just replaced my clutch and told me my brakes were fine (bullshit!!) OR I could laugh along with her.

Laugh? How could I laugh with her when I could momentarily smash into the car in front of me? How could I make light of this situation? There is only one answer...imagination.

And so it was: my car was farting.

Yes, my car was having a severe case of car farts, hence the jerks and the shuddering. That was the only "logical" explanation. My poor baby, I decided, had a bad case of upset stomach because he ate bad onions last night.

"Bad onions?" my sister asked.

"Why yes, he normally doesn't eat onions...I think he's allergic, but he got pretty greedy last night and overindulged in some oniony Indian food."

A puzzled but intrigued look from my sister.

"My car is a vegetarian you know. He really likes salads. Sometimes soups but not in the summer, too hot for him. What else does he like? Oh yes, chickpeas..HUGE fan of chickpeas. Sometimes he's in the mood for pizza but not usually...."

"What else does he like" she asks.

Hold on, I'll ask him....

And on and on I went until my sister was convinced my car was talking to me, answering my questions about his diet, and then she too got into the convo - just to be sure I wasn't lying...about the fact that he doesn't eat ribs.

So for the next hour or so, while I could have been having a panic attack knowing my brake pads were wearing thin, my sister and I made light of the situation using a little dose of imagination.

It got me thinking about when else we can tap into this ultra cheap, quite natural, and always accessible tool to help guide us through life's challenges. When things just don't go our way and we can't do anything about it in the moment, what can we do to alleviate the pain? Can we make a game? Can we talk to the problem as if it were a person (insert body part, car trouble, iphone crisis)? Or can we just try and have a laugh about it, see how it feels? I found by talking to my car, I suddenly had a greater appreciation for all that it does for me. I actually started to convince myself that my car had a unique personality and I should treat it like a friend. Maybe I should treat my next injury in this manner - talking to a twisted ankle might not fix it, but it sure would make me more grateful for having body parts that work. If nothing else, imagination certainly helps us change my perspective and makes things go a little more smoothly.

What do plastic surgeons have in common with urban planners?

I'll tell you in a minute. But first I have to backtrack for a second and share a little tid bit of information: about two years ago if you had asked me whether I was interested in politics I would have said, "yes...sure...absolutely!" The truth? While I enjoy studying politics (i.e. the academic bit, the theory), in reality, the only part of the newspaper that I actually read (and not even on a regular basis) is the Life Section. (thank goodness for the life section!)

So why did I lie? I feel like we are such a generation of do-gooders, go-getters, and change makers, that we all want to be seen as extraordinary, super aware, socially conscious, caring citizens. We want to be everything all at once - environmentalists, social activists, political advocates, international volunteers. Anything that challenges the screw ups the generations before us did. And if we don't? We're not good citizens?

This is nonsense. As I've come to realize, I suffered from a complete and utter case of the "making a difference complex". I put so much pressure on myself to seem remotely interested and involved at every level of "doing good", that I missed the whole point.

And what is the point? The point is...the world is like the human body...to heal, it requires so many different forms of therapy and types of treatment. But each one has its place. I will use the analogy of my own body for a moment. About 7 years ago I had a pretty bad ski fall, I twisted my neck, got whiplash and busted my shoulder. As standard procedure would dictate, I went to see a physio for a few months. Fine, problem solved. No, not really. Years later, I still found my neck to be an issue. I then started seeing a chiropractor, who adjusted the vertebrae, structurally getting everything back in alignment. Still not good enough. I then went to a massage therapist, she massages the hell out of my shoulders and neck trying to loosen everything up. Meh, some progress, but only enough to get those pesky muscles that were gripping at my vertebrae to let go temporarily. Then I see an osteopath and wow, does she get deep. She's working on the connective tissue level and telling me it all has to do with my heavy liver (huh? exactly)...basically my liver is acting as an anchor to my neck and pulling at it constantly via the minute tissue all through the right side of my body. Interesting. Finally, I go to yoga. Yoga works on balancing out my emotional body, opening my heart for example and making me realize that when I have emotional stress, my neck gives out. So how to prevent that? Practice more yoga, examine my feelings.

So, to make a long story short, I have needed help from almost every possible practioner i could get my hands on, and have worked on the cellular level to the very superficial level.

So...what does a plastic surgeon have in common with an eco-urban planner? Well, I would say that everyone out there trying to "make a difference" can be likened to some kind of body healer or medical practitioner, with everyone's focus and scale of practice being different.

For example, political types, lawyers, and policy makers are like chiropractors. They look at the building blocks of the body, aka the structure in society. They can change the rules, make new legislation, and systematic changes that aim to keep our social body in check. The plastic surgeon works on making us look good on the outside, just as devoted green urban planners try to revitalize the city with rooftop gardens, waterfront face lifts, and community art projects. What about the grass roots activists? People working directly with others at the ground level - alleviating poverty, building homes in earthquake stricken areas, witnessing tragic conditions everyday? They are the physiotherapists, crucial for mobilizing the large joints of our social body. They help to push and shift and strengthen our world on a more macro level. Without them, our muscles would seize up. And then of course there are those educators, innovators, motivators, coaches, and individuals trying to make change via altering the mindset of our society. The spiritual leaders and the philosophical teachers that are gently rocking the fascia of our world. This is the least intrusive social therapy I know of, akin to osteopathy or yin yoga, it is nonviolent and stretches out the most minute parts of our social body that we like to grip on to because that's what feels normal. But these tissues are also the hardest to move. Our mindsets and belief systems are the hardest to change. It takes patience and gentle prodding to make people over-turn their values.

So, where has my political-inferiority complex gone? Well now I see, that rather than being ashamed by the fact that I don't know as much as some of my friends about the current political system, the Copenhagen summit, or Canadian laws, and I'm not jumping at the chance to travel to Namibia to hand out condoms and birth control to young girls...I still have a place as a concerned, caring and engaged citizen. We can't be everything at once...so I'll stick to what I know - and that's definitely not cracking bones!

Reflections "On the Wings of Love": Who is the YOU that you want to BE?

What could we possibly learn from a show like the Bachelor? It's clearly fake, and obviously that Roslyn chick was just hired to add some juiciness to the show, and basically the only reason I watch it is to see what extravagant date ideas I can snag for my hypothetical future dates. However, having said that, after watching the finale last week I surprisingly came away with one somewhat substantial piece of insight, and am shocked to admit, I may just use it in my own dating life. This revelatory moment came when, I believe, one of Jake's sisters mentioned that Vienna (the supposedly psycho, self-centered, trailer trash girl from Florida), made Jake laugh. She brought out the goofy side in him, the side that the family knew well, but that those "perfect-Tenleyesque-pedestal girls" could not seem to tease out of him.

It's so true. The more I watched his interaction with Tenley, someone so clearly in tune with him in terms of core values, interests, and general disposition, the more I realized they were almost too perfect together. Jake kept saying, "there is something missing, nothing is wrong, but there is just something missing". What is that missing thing? He couldn't even begin to explain it. Well I'll tell you what it is - it's the ability to be the person that you love to be. It's almost like, when with someone else, you begin to fall in love with yourself. We think this way in terms of friends don't we? I know that the friends that I cherish the most are the ones that make me love who I am around them...no falsehoods, no trying hard, everything is easy, and FUN!

So when looking for a partner, we should really be looking at ourselves...at the "(insert my name) I am when I am around (insert partner's name)". Do we like ourselves when we are around that person? Do we show sides of our personality that might not always shine through in other relationships?

I think about all the people that I have known, the guys that I have dated, and honestly, the ones that stick out in my mind the most, are the ones that didn't just align with my own values/interests/perspectives on life, but those that had that mysterious thing that wasn't missing, the "je ne sais quoi"...for me that was bringing out the kid in me. I know I can be a bit serious at times, but I know that I love to be a huge goof-ball, so it just takes the right person to stimulate that in me :) It's not something I can check off on a list, or put out in a personal ad, its not a characteristic someone has and another doesn't...its just the magic of the interaction that two particular people can have in a particular moment in their lives.

So who is the you that you want to be? Now go find the person that makes it happen!