kimianak

When my gentleman friend and I went to Montreal for a weekend in early September, a request from my wonderful friend Celine got me to stop and notice things I wouldn't have noticed otherwise: she had asked me to take pictures.  Though I have moved out of Montreal a little over a year ago, it still feels like home, which means that my camera usually stays at the bottom of my bag when I'm there.

So, thanks to Celine, here's one little beauty I wouldn't have seen had I not been on the lookout for ways to share with her some of what I love so much about that city:

That gets me thinking... this could be the first in a (most probably irregular - I know myself!) series of posts.  I'll keep my eyes open for unexpected beauty, and share what I find with you.  And I'd be happy if you wanted to share with me something you noticed the last time you had an opportunity to slow down and look at familiar things with fresh eyes.  What did you see?

Loading mentions Retweet

I mentioned in my last post that I had a lot to say about practicing Shiva Nata at the writer's retreat I attended this past summer, too much in fact for me to be able to squeeze it in that account of my experience in Taos.

By the way, I fully realise I have started mentioning the Dance of Shiva a while ago on this blog with little more than a very brief explanation as to what it is.  I think this happened because I first mentioned it in passing, in a post in which I was writing about something else, and then it had already been mentioned and I didn't take the time to take a step back and introduce the thing properly.  Also, it so happens that the short version - which I have given here - is quite short, and the long one is either too long, or I can't find the right words for it.  So, you have questions about Shiva Nata?  Go ahead and ask them in the comments!  I'd be happy to answer, and that would give me a terrific starting point to say more (as well as an indication as to whether there is indeed a need to try and explain more, or if I can just keep babbling away).

Here is finally that glimpse into this part of my experience in Taos, and more generally my Shiva Nata practice:

Body poetry

It was absolutely wonderful to get to work with Havi herself, learning some of her destuckifying techniques, doing yoga every afternoon, and starting our days with a Dance of Shiva session.  That was a real treat!

On the first day, Havi didn't even name the Dance of Shiva, presenting it instead as body poetry.  That was right on!  On the DVD the positions are associated to numbers, but in order to make the practice challenging both for her and for the handful of participants who were already shivanauts, Havi chose to associate words to the eight arm positions.  That was purely magical!  And yes, poetic.

How poetic?  Well, the practice involves both arms, so we always use a pair of words (or numbers, colors, whatever you choose) to identify the arm positions.  Since Shiva Nata has been conceived in a way that every possible combinations happen within the various sequences, we've heard all the word pairings that could be made using those eight words.  Havi also used their inflections, and constructed phrases from the pairings.  That gave us gems like:

...and so much more!  We often heard a collective exclamation from the group when a particularly inspiring combo showed up.
One day, Havi asked if we wanted to give it a try with numbers, but the choice was unanimous: we loved the words!  Hey, that wasn't very surprising: the word combos were awesome, and... she was working with a group of writers, after all!

Getting help

This incredible opportunity to work with Havi came at the right time, as I was stuck in my Shiva Nata practice and was hoping that it would help me get unstuck.  I was frustrated to not be getting results - in the shape of the promised hot-buttered epiphanies - at home, and the problem didn't magically work itself out at the retreat.  Epiphanies were had right and left by many of the other participants, but none was coming my way, which made it yet a bit more frustrating.

I've discussed it with Havi, and thus learned that the Dance of Shiva can reinforce patterns.  That came as a surprise: I had always thought of it as something that helps recognising and deconstructing patterns, but had never realised that the opposite could very well be true.  That made sense: I was very clearly working with it within my pattern of having to do everything in order, every step of the way.
In this case, since I couldn't quite master* level one at high speed, I simply would not let myself go and play with level 2.  Going to a specific part of level 2 (the transquarters, for you Shivanauts reading this) was Havi's first recommendation to me, which she revised the next day, telling me to skip ahead to level 3 instead.
*even though I very well know that trying to master it totally misses the point of the whole thing.  I even have a quote that I keep visible at all times on my desk, copied from one of the documents Havi wrote for the starter kit: "You're not trying to master it, you're trying to experience it"...  Yes, I need the reminder!

Being encouraged to skip ahead was huge for me, and was also kind of a lightbulb moment - Go and mix things up!  No one says you have to do every little step in the given order.  Challenge your pattern(s)!

Havi has been kind enough to take some time to meet me where I was, listen to me and offer advice, and I was - and still am - hugely thankful for that.  More than that: she offered me to do a mini one on one Shiva Nata session one afternoon before yoga.

Shivanauting one on one!  With Havi!

That was so, so great!  But also: so very intimidating!

Especially since she started by telling me to take the lead, saying she would mirror my movements.  Yeah, *that* was intimidating!  Interestingly, that was very revealing too: even though she told me that I could do anything, that it didn't have to be a "real" sequence or formula, I was unable to just go improvisational, I had to follow the level 1 sequence.  Alternating between the horizontal and the vertical movements when changing sides was the most I could deviate from the established sequence.  My reaction may have had something to do with being intimidated (and wanting to do well), but it showed once again that I have to do stuff "correctly".  It felt like I should have tried going freestyle (and get her lost!) but, sadly, I couldn't.

She then took the lead and had me do level 3, first with the arms only, then with the legs too - wow!  I could mirror her movements without too much difficulty, but it sure was challenging, especially with the legs: I would have needed very wide angle vision to catch everything all at once!

This session didn't last more than ten minutes, but the souvenir will definitely live on for a very long time.  Thank you, Havi, for doing this with me.  I can't wait to have the opportunity to repeat the experience!

Still no epiphanies...

I've been back home for quite a while now, have started playing with my practice, working on level three, mixing things up... and I'm still experiencing the same thing regarding the epiphanies, i.e. not much, really.  How come can't I get the Dance of Shiva to work its magic for me, even though I love the practice, I do it regularly, and I've now even skipped a whole level in order to try and make it challenging enough?  It seems to be working for everyone else, so what's wrong with me?

Well, I have some ideas regarding this, but this post is quite long already, so I'll share them next time.

Until then, if you have questions please feel free to send them my way!

Loading mentions Retweet

I'm back from the writer's retreat I did in Taos last week.  Wow, what a week that was!

I did some writing.  Not as much as I'd have liked to, but some, which is better than I had done in a long time.  I've had a project in the works for quite a while now, but I had trouble getting started on the writing part of it.  The retreat gave me the opportunity to give it a go, and that felt very good.  In fact, one day I have chosen to write in my journal instead of using the writing time to work on my project, and I missed it!  It was really awesome to feel that yearning to get back to it, that need to make it move forward.  I wish I could keep this feeling alive all the time.  I wish it was stronger than all the fears that keep me from even getting started.  But hey, I *did* get started, which is already awesome!  I'll get back to the yearning and find ways to cultivate it; that should help me keep going.  I so want to put this thing out into the world!

What's that thing, that project I'm talking about?  Well, I've recently started feeling (a little) more comfortable talking about it, and I'll do it here too, but that will have to be another post.  I'm trying to get better at posting regularly, and writing shorter and more focused posts should help me get there, so this will have to go in the "ideas for future posts" folder for now!

Back to the retreat

The reason why I didn't write all that much?  Well, the retreat wasn't all about the writing...

First, there were the other participants, and Jen, the retreat leader.  Interesting how the human factor always end up being so important, right?  Interesting but not suprising, especially considering how amazing were the women I met there!

I didn't know Jennifer Louden before signing up for her writer's retreat.  I jumped in as soon as I saw that Havi Brooks would be teaching there, and this was enough for me to want to go.  It was so nice to get to know Jen!  She was a great retreat leader, and a wonderful human being.

Then, the group of participants was absolutely incredible.  I'm an introvert, naturally shy, and interacting in my second language adds another layer of difficulty.  Still, I had this strong feeling of belonging, the kind of belonging that I don't get to experience often.  I hope this won't sound pretentious, but I had the impression that the other women would have had a different experience had I not been there.  I know for a fact that my own experience would have been different if any of them hadn't been part of the group, and it's a very rare thing for the reciprocal to feel true to me, but it did.  And that's a very powerful thing.

This alone would have been enough to make this retreat a memorable event, but there was more!

There was the food.  Oh yes, it's worth a mention!  Actually, it was remarkable enough for two of the participants to spend some of their writing time writing about it, and feeling the need to catch up if they fell behind!  I'm pretty sure I was the only person eating a vegan diet (though there were a few vegetarians), and the kitchen staff at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House did a wonderful job of meeting my needs.  Actually, not being able to eat everything that was offered was a blessing: had I been in a position to do so, I'd have spent my days awfully overstuffed!  The food was delicious and plentiful and, best of all, we only had to sit down and enjoy...  I know I'm not the only one who was in no rush to come back home to my usual fare!

At least, I'm coming back inspired.  Inspired by the colorful dishes we were served, by the unusual ingredient combinations we got to enjoy, by the yummy fruit plate every morning (yes, it takes time to prepare, but I'm coming back of that week with the feeling that I am worth it!).  I can't wait to get cooking!

Food for the body and soul

There were also (optional) daily yoga classes offered by the wonderful Havi, whom I was delighted to meet.  I had been wanting to try yoga for years now, but never got around to doing it, so I was really looking forward to attending these classes during the retreat to get me started.

It ended up being more than that.  It gave me the opportunity to learn that my body could do things I didn't think it could do.  I'm not into sports - I do Shiva Nata and I love walking, but that's it - so I was kind of expecting to simply do the best I could with a body that was unfit, and most certainly stiff.  Well, I was in for a surprise!  It all felt good, and so natural!  It was awesome to realise that my body could surprise me in such a positive way.  I can almost qualify it as a revelation, one which has profoundly transformed the way I see my body, and which will most certainly change the way I live with it too.

Doing yoga with Havi was such a treat that I finished the last class thinking that I would never be able to find a yoga class that even came close to how wonderful this had been.  She told me to look for classes labeled "restorative yoga", but considering how extremely limited the choices are where I live now, I doubt I'd be able to find one in my area.  Also, I know that if I sign up for a class and it falls short of my (now very high) expectations, I simply won't be able to keep going.  At the same time, I don't want to stop altogether.  Hey, I had such a wonderful surprise that I can't leave it at that!  My solution: ordering the Non-Sucky Yoga kit put together by Havi herself, because I know I can trust her recommandation*.  Until she makes a yoga DVD herself (hint, hint!), this is certainly the next best thing for me.  I can't wait for the DVD to arrive: I miss my daily dose of yoga!
*besides, who could resist an introduction such as this one: "Here's the thing.  Most yoga DVDs are pretty awful.  Sunsets, Hawaiian beaches, bikinis and people saying things like 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Now work those abs!'  Gross.  Also: you could sprain something rolling your eyes like that"?  Not me!  Havi really has a way with words...

Havi also served us generous dollops of Dance of Shiva, but I have quite a bit to say about that, so I'll keep it for my next post!

There was so much more to the retreat - the readings, a collaborative Scrabble game, a tour of local art studios that I sadly had to miss, making new friends... - but that was it in a wholly inappropriate nutshell.  No nutshell is big enough to encapsulate that wonderful experience; this one will have to do for now.

Can I summarize this whole thing?  I can think of no other way to do so than by saying this: I'm extremely tempted to attend Jen's retreat again next year!

Loading mentions Retweet

*I had this story and this title in mind long before I learned about the blog by the same name by Michael David Murphy.  If you enjoy the idea behind this post, you definitely should read his blog and follow him on Twitter (@unphotograph).

I hinted at a coming trip in my last post. I'm leaving  for Taos, New Mexico, in order to participate in a writer's retreat. As part of the preparation work for the retreat, I had to write something. I'm sharing with you part of the text I have written and submitted for the occasion.

It tells a story that really happened to me, a story I've told many times already, most often in my mind.  I love telling myself this story every so often.  Never before had I recounted it in writing, though, not even in French. The story that's in my mind doesn't translate well into telling out loud, even less so in writing.  It would have been hard to do justice in my mother tongue, it was even harder in my second language.  When I've learned that I had to write something, though, this story begged to be told; I had no choice but to tell it, so I did the best I could.

Anyways, enough preamble.  There you go; I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

I was walking on a street. I can't remember what it was called. Though I have a general idea of the area in which it is located, I'm not even sure I'd be able to find it again if I ever was to go back to that city and look for that street. What I do know is that it was a hot and sunny day, and I was walking south. It was springtime, the end of April, and the street was busy, alive, the way things can be at that time of the year. Though I was only walking there to get somewhere else, it was interesting to be on that street and soak in the life that was buzzing around me.

All of a sudden, something caught my eye. A picture begging to be taken. I didn't take my camera out, but I did stop and take the picture. In my mind. And here is a print for you.

One of the shops lining that street. In its window are three mannequins dressed in white, ready for their wedding day. In front of the window, admiring those white gowns and giggling like little girls dreaming of their own wedding, are three beautiful young women. They're maybe deciding which one of them would get which dress, or trying to guess who will be the first among them to get married, I don't know. They're laughing, and there are sparkles in their eyes. All in all, a lovely but ordinary scene... made striking by the fact that these three young women are each wearing a black tchador. A perfectly symetric and beautifully poetic image.

It would have made a gorgeous photograph, especially in black and white. Why didn't I catch the scene on film? Well, the image was perfect, but the moment also had that same quality. Purely magic... and fleeting. I simply stood there, stopped in my track, sinking it all in. I was afraid that if I took the time to take the camera out of my bag, it would be gone already. I didn't want to look away, not even for half a second: I knew it would be gone all too fast already. And I didn't want to interfere with that moment. I was allowed to be there and witness the scene, but there was no way I could get to know how those ladies would feel about me photographing it without ruining the moment. Wether I had chosen to ask or I had opted to just take the picture without asking first – thus risking to incur their anger or, not much better, to have them noticing me and posing artificially for the picture – would have made no difference in the end: the spell would have been broken.

So I simply stood there, sinking it all in, engraving as many details as I could in my mind. Those details that would have been captured on film, yes, but also those that we never find in our pictures when we later look at them. The physical things that would have been cropped out of the frame. The immaterial things that a camera cannot record: the sounds, the smell, the warmth of the sun... and most importantly, the feelings – mine, and what I imagined being theirs.

Actually, considering how much I took in, I'm really sorry I couldn't get a better print for you.

* * *

This picture I 'showed' you was taken – or not, depending on your point of view – in Tehran in late April 2001 (early Ordibehesht 1380). I was walking south, headed to the bazaar, maybe for the last time before coming back home. I knew, though, that I'd be back. I didn't know when, but it didn't matter. It would be as soon as possible. Iran had me under its spell.

* * *

If you want to know what happened next, well, yes, I did go back. It was in 2004. Almost as soon as I came home from my first trip, I started learning Persian by myself and with the help of a few wonderful Iranian friends, whom I had met through my desire to learn their language. My second stay in Iran was very different from the first one, as I spent most of it in university, perfecting my knowledge of Persian. That sojourn was more challenging than the first one in many ways, but I'm grateful for that experience too. It gave me the opportunity to learn more about Iran, its people and its culture (and, of course, about myself too – a lot), so that I could have a more complete image of it than the one I had drawn during my first stay. I cherish both equally, and I can't wait to go again. Iran still has me under its spell.

* * *

By the way... be warned: if you ever get me started talking about Iran, I'm unstoppable! :)

Loading mentions Retweet

In the midst of the madness that was getting ready to leave for Paris last month, there was one thing I wouldn't have skipped, no matter how rushed I was: baking a batch of yummy stuff I could take with me for when I'd need something to snack on.

I love traveling, but don't enjoy starving quite as much.  So, for those times when visiting an exhibition takes longer than expected, or I'm in transit at an inconvenient time, or I'm simply a bit too much off the beaten path to find something to eat when I need it, I've learned to take food with me.  I didn't use to care all that much about it, because I'm fine with an irregular eating schedule, but sometimes it just gets a bit too long between two satisfying meals.

Oh, and let's not forget the "vegetarian, no dairy" airplane meal that turned out to be filled with - and covered in - cheese!

So it has become a habit now for me to bake some homemade goodies before leaving on a trip.  I usually make my own version of Vegan Dad's Maple Hemp Granola Bars: yummy, and very sustaining.  This time though, I had a good reason to forgo my old standby and make something else instead...

You see, one of my missions on this trip was to bring Vegan Brunch, the fabulous new book by Isa Chandra Moskovitz, to my friend Shellyfish (aka TheShellyfish on Twitter).  Last year, her mom brought Veganomicon to her, and she told me that one page was smeared and splattered with batter, as her brother had tried a recipe from the book before sending it.  I thought that was begging to be turned into a tradition, so I had to make something from the book!

Besides, everything in the book looked so delicious, how could I not give a few of the recipes a try?  Well, there was this not-enough-time detail, but making one recipe was doable, especially since I needed to bake something to take with me anyways.  As for the other recipes, I'll get to them: I simply cannot not get the book for myself!

I've chosen to make the Coffee Chips Muffins, simply because muffins travel well, and I had all the ingredients in my cupboard (no time for grocery shopping!).  Well, this is when I've learned, upon seeing the little bit left at the bottom of the jar that had been left by a former flatmate a few years ago, that instant coffee powder isn't eternal - whodathunk? - so I had to forget about mocha flavored muffins, and simply go with chocolate chips ones.

What was fun is that they turned into a culinary experiment!  I made two batches; they were identical, except for the kind of sugar I used for each.  The first batch was made with clumps of brown sugar that I was too lazy/rushed to break well before mixing them in - and I like how the clumps kind of bake into caramel-y chunks.  I used organic and fair-trade white-ish sugar (I think it was Turbinado, but I'm not sure) for the second batch and that sugar was of course well mixed in.  It wasn't the first time I was baking with clumps of brown sugar, but it was the first time I could do a side-by-side comparison, and wow!  I was amazed by how very clear the difference in texture was - you can even see it on the pictures!

I didn't notice much difference in taste, though: both batches turned out great!  I've snacked on those muffins for the greater part of my trip (keeping them in the fridge, they lasted for quite a while), and was often really happy to have them with me.

I did meet up with Shelly and her family, and we had the greatest time together!  I will probably write about it sometime later, but for now, I'm busy getting ready for my next trip: I'm leaving again in less than a week.  I must admit to being a huge mass of overwhelm, which is no fun, but I'm expecting this upcoming trip to be great fun.  I've just gotta get through the last few days...

Now, what to bake to take with me on that trip? :)

   

Loading mentions Retweet

I've been back from Paris for almost a week now, and am slowly getting back into the groove of things.  I'm naturally slow, so it usually takes me a while to find my rhythm again, though I'm (also!*) working on that.
*I know it sounds like working on my stuff is my full time job and, well, in a sense yes, it is!

I won't try to do a big recap of my trip, because I know I won't ever post anything if I wait until I have it done.  Instead, I'll share bits and pieces now and then, as they come.  Here's today's bit!

Last time I was in Paris, I was a vegetarian, more precisely an ovo-lacto-vegetarian.  It was challenging at times, but overall it wasn't too bad.  Now, while I'm not (yet) a vegan, I have completely eliminated all dairy products from my diet.  This meant that traveling to France would be more of a challenge for me this time.  As my brother says: they put butter everywhere!  And I'm not even talking about the cheese*...  Most importantly, they put butter in my beloved croissant aux amandes - argh!  Before leaving, I knew that this would most probably be the hardest thing for me: seeing all those delicious croissants aux amandes right there under my nose, and not being able to even have one bite.  Sigh.
*I had asked, well in advance, for a vegetarian meal without dairy on my flight.  I was kind of suspecting that there were more chances they would get it wrong than right, but was relieved when I saw it was spelled out on my boarding pass.  On the plane, though, they simply gave me the same thing as everyone else, and very reluctantly went to check things on their list when I pointed out I had asked for a veggie/no dairy meal.  They finally came back with that day's veggie meal, which happened to be ricotta-filled manicotti au gratin!  So much for no dairy!  Good thing I wasn't totally counting on a real meal, and had taken some food with me...

A quick aside: I have yet to visit New York, but it's quickly getting higher and higher on the list of places I want to go to.  Why?  Two words: vegan bakery!  Oh my, the day I set foot in a vegan pastry shop, I'm afraid my self-control will be left at the door!  No one feels like opening a vegan bakery in Paris? (and in my hometown, while I'm at it!)  That'd be so great!

Anyways, back to the croissants aux amandes story.  I know it's not a good idea to go into something with negative expectations, as we tend to do our best to fulfill our expectations.  I usually try not to do it, but this time, I couldn't help it: I knew it would be hard, what with the tempting stuff everywhere...  Well, my expectations weren't fulfilled this time, as it turned out that I was wrong after all: it hasn't been near as hard as I'd thought, thanks to a subconscious stroke of genius!

My gentleman friend and I were in a grocery store (we had an apartment, so we could make sure I ate at least one or two good meals a day by cooking it ourselves), and as I was choosing some dried fruits, my eyes came upon packages of marzipan.  Of course, I really like the stuff (otherwise, why would I miss almond croissants more than plain ones?), and I decided to get a package, with a vague thought that went something like this: "we could get this instead of jam, I bet it would be nice on bread".

Uh, hello!

Seriously, it's only the next morning that I realised what my brain probably knew all along: it was my way of creating a quick and dirty vegan version of those croissants I liked so much!

Creative vegan tip of the day:
A good baguette and some marzipan make for a very satisfying fix when you're in the land of the croissants aux amandes and no non-dairy version can be found!
Take a piece of a good baguette, open it, spread some marzipan, put the pieces back together.  Enjoy!

(I left the two pieces separate for the picture, but I like it best with the two halves together, sandwich-style.  Also: the stuff is thick, making for a very non-photogenic - but delicious nonetheless - spreading...)

Aside from eliminating all eventual feelings of deprivation, I found out that this little idea had other advantages:

• No more unsatisfying croissants with not enough of the good stuff!  You can put as much marzipan as you want.
• Less fat!  Ok, you won't be biting in a buttery croissant, but hey, let's look at the bright side of things!
• Cheaper!  Even the fancy-schmancy - and, of course, very expensive - organic marzipan I've found the day before I came back won't cost you more than four croissants would have, and it would last you for much more than four servings (unless you're an adept of the very very thick marzipan coating!).  The regular one costs less than one pastry does, so even when you add in the cost of the bread, you're still waaaaay ahead.

And yes, I did splurge on the fancy-schmancy very expensive organic marzipan!  Was it worth it?  I'll find out as soon as I'm done with what's left of the regular package I had bought before that one.  I'll keep you posted!

Ok, this was a very simple trick, but it made a whole lot of difference in how much I enjoyed my trip!  I could step into bakeries and feast my eyes only, and all was well: I had had my fix in the morning already.  Yay!  :)

Loading mentions Retweet

Despite the long silence hinting at a desertion from my blog, I'm still here.  I'm writing posts in my mind, simply not taking the time to write them on this screen.  The days following my latest post have been a bit hectic with getting ready to go on a trip, and now my days are filled with enjoying said trip - which doesn't make for much time to spend on the computer.  If I was a fast writer, I'd have written quick updates from the road... but it so happens that I'm not.  That's something I want to work on in the near future.  For now, I'll go with this quickie!

I'm visiting an old friend I hadn't seen in a few years: Paris.  I'm happy to find that the city is still the same, yet different.  That makes for sweet old memories coming back, and for the making of new memories, to be old ones next time I come here.

I could spend hours trying to think of something clever or beautiful to add here, but I won't.  The few days I have left here will soon be gone, and there's still so much I want to do and see!  Walking again in my old neighborhood, exploring new places, spending time with friends...  I'll tell more as soon as I'm back, including the tale of how I solved the problem of my expected craving for those croissants aux amandes I love but cannot eat any more. :)

Loading mentions Retweet

I mentioned in a past post that I have been having problems with my ribcage in the last few months, and I said I'd tell more about it later.  There was more to be told because I have the feeling that that pain appeared for a very specific reason and had a specific purpose.  It took me a while to get to writing about it, though, because telling that story involves exposing some flesh and, well, it's not exactly the easiest thing to do... (and this turned out to be a very long post; sorry about that.)

So, ok, it's not easy, but I'm choosing to do it, if only for me to work things out in a more systematic manner than would be allowed by just letting the various parts of the story hang around in my mind in a somewhat confused manner.  Also because it seems important to me to share about where I'm at these days, and this whole thing is an important part of it.

The story goes back to late February, when I learned about the Dance of Shiva.  Reading about it, I was immediately struck by how much it would help me.  Stuck patterns?  Check.  Needing and wanting help dissolving them?  Check.  A long-standing longing for a better working brain (in no small part thanks to Chronic Fatigue Syndrom)?  Check.

I was feeling very strongly that this was the right thing for me.

I got the kit and got into Shiva Nata, loving it as much as I knew I would.  While practicing, I was consciously working on trying to understand and dissolve some of my patterns.  At first I was mostly asking: "what keeps me stuck in passive mode, and keeps me from switching to a more active mode?" - I wanted to know more about the pattern I've talked about in my very first post.

I didn't get huge epiphanies or crazy breakthroughs, but some great insights came up.  Things like:

Oh, so I *must not* do the things I want to be doing, because if I do move forward with them, people around me would start expecting more from me (like, that I "live up to my potential" or some other such crap).  And I really don't want anyone to expect anything from me.  I see.

Hmm, so I go to bed very late and sleep the whole morning away because that's a way for me to ensure I won't have a productive day.  Interesting.

Loading mentions Retweet

A little while ago, I learned about the flood in Celine's home (caused by a burst pipe), and learned later that her birthday happened to be only a few days after the incident.  While telling her she was lucky her misfortune hadn't happened on that day, I suddenly remembered that the last time I experienced a flood was, well, precisely on my birthday!  When I told her that it turned out to be a very good thing, I knew I wouldn't be able to tell the whole story on Twitter, where we happened to be chatting.  So here's the story, for Celine, and for you all. Actually, if you could all get your inner kid to come and sit around me, that would be perfect!

December 24, 2003.  You may think it was Christmas Eve, but no, it was actually my birthday.  Ok, ok, my birthday is on Christmas Eve but, you see, we have this thing in my family that we set up in order to ensure my birthday doesn't end up being forgotten in the middle of all the Christmas madness: on December 24 up until after dinner, it's my birthday, and Christmas starts after the birthday cake has been eaten.

So.  When I arrived at my parents' place that day, I dropped my suitcase in the guest room downstairs, left my winter coat on the bed, and went back up to help prepare my birthday dinner.  While we were putting the finishing touch to the meal, my sister-in-law was washing some dishes; once done with it, she unplugged the sink, and we heard my brother yelling from downstairs: "ça coule!".  A sinkful of dirty-greasy-yucky dishwater was going down, straight through the ceiling, and onto my bed... well, onto my winter coat on the bed.  Yuck!

Needless to say, I was pissed.  My birthday was clearly off to a great start... (hmm, not!)

Mom took over her to wash my coat in the bathtub (a coat made for our winters can't go into just any washing machine...) while Dad started investigating the cause of the flood.  Turned out no pipe had burst; a clogged vent was the culprit and Dad would have to climb into the attic to unclog it.  Dinner was ready, it was time for us to sit down and celebrate my birthday.  Now, Mom was pissed that Dad wouldn't be sitting to eat with us, as he had decided he had to go up there and deal with it right away.  In short, the atmosphere wasn't exactly cheery.

In that not-so-bright mood, Mom, my brothers, my sisters-in-law, the kids and I sat down to eat, while Dad went out with a flashlight and a ladder to climb in the attic (the access to it being on the front porch).

And this is precisely when life stopped handing out lemons, and started making the lemonade.

My nephew was facing the window next to which the attic access is located, so he had the best view over the flashes of light we were seeing in the dark, going up the ladder.  Being two and a half at the time, he hadn't understood all that was going on, so he had no clue what was happening outside, and he was clearly intrigued.  I can't remember who told him: "Look, there's Santa Claus!", but that was a stroke of genius!  You should have seen the little one's face!  Eyes and mouth wide open, speechless - obviously, there was no doubt in his mind: Santa Claus was right there!

The fun didn't stop there, as Dad started walking in the attic: "Listen!  Rudolph and the reindeers are on the roof!"  My nephew would have opened his eyes and mouth wider, if only he could!  It was purely magical.  We made it last as long as we could.

Of course, the general mood had improved drastically!  Mom wasn't grumpy over the fact that Dad had to go up there right then anymore.  She even went on to say: "If I had asked him to do this just to create amazing memories for the kid, he never would have agreed."  She was most probably right... which gave us all a very good reason to be thankful for that otherwise very untimely flood!

I'm not sure my nephew (who's now 8) remembers that night all that well; I should ask him.  Two things I know for sure, though: 1) I'll never forget that moment, and 2) for that one time, I didn't mind having Christmas interfering with my birthday dinner!  It was quite nice to see the Universe squeezing the lemons all by itself, and in such a sweet way, for once!  ;)

Loading mentions Retweet

No, no, I didn't leave my gentleman friend's arms to rush into those of someone with a Hindu god's name!

To make things clear:
I practice the Dance of Shiva, which is also called Shiva Nata and is, in the words of the #2 world Shiva Nata expert, "a unique (and visually stunning), flowing yoga-based movement form that actually restructures neural connections in your brain".  The important thing to know for today's little story is that it involves specific movements of the arms and the legs.
For over a month now, I was unable to do the arm movements because of a problem with my ribcage (more on that in another post), so I was restricted to doing the leg movements only.  The healing process slowly went on, and this morning I decided to try and see if I'd be able to do the arm movements again without (too much) pain.
Result?  Yay!  It was mostly ok!
Which is why I can say that I'm back into Shiva Nata's arms! ;)

I guess I'll talk about Shiva Nata quite a bit here, because it's really great for me in a lot of ways, and it's having a positive impact on my life.  Actually, you can ask my gentleman friend, I do talk a lot about it at home too!  Fortunately, I got him started on it too, so I can bring it up at any given opportunity without him thinking that I'm (too much of) a crazy wacky freak!

Ok, I'm attempting to write a shorter post today, so I won't go on and on about it, even though I very well could (I just can't stop!).  I know Shiva Nata isn't very well known, though, so if your curiosity has been piqued and there's something you'd like to know about it or my experience with it, don't hesitate to ask.  Bonus answers: yes, I love, love, love it, and yes, getting the starter kit is totally worth it!

Anyways, being able to practice Dance of Shiva with the arms again makes me very very happy, and I just had to share!

Loading mentions Retweet