Everything that went right

We all have our "bad" days. Days when you can't seem to get anything right, when everyone is apparently out to get you. But however bad your day may be, the blanket statement "I had a really bad day" is never truly accurate.

Truth be told - in the 10,000 tiny events that happen every day, not every single one of them were "bad". Chances are, the majority of those events were probably positive or neutral.

So to temper this tendency to say, "What an awful day!", I decided to make a photographic record of things that went right during a 24-hour period.

Kusmi has opened a tea shop on St-Denis. I bought some delicious Prince Vladimir tea.

I repotted a plant that was slowly being eroded by nutrient-poor earth. Now she's standing tall and green. Doesn't she look happy?


I ate some really delicious Lindt chocolate.


One of our project managers came back from vacation with nice new glasses. Perks up the office, you know?

That's just some of the stuff that put a smile on my face lately. An accumulation of good things - no matter how small they may seem - definitely amounts to a positive day, no?

Beautiful

Remember that James Blunt song, "Beautiful"? Made all the girls swoon?

Well, not me. But I've always had an ambivalent relationship with the word.

As much as I hungered in my youth to hear that I was beautiful, I never inspired that kind of poetry from men. One boyfriend once remarked to someone else that I had beautiful eyes, and another one tossed, "Hey, you look beautiful tonight" as he bolted out the door, late for work, but no man has ever described me as beautiful while looking me in the eyes (like he meant it).

I do get a lot of "cute" though.

But don't start thinking I'm fishing for comments - plenty of people call me "beautiful" and mean it, i.e. my friends. And they offer it spontaneously, genuinely, while looking me in the eyes (like they mean it). Recently, one of my fellow yogis (who is quite possibly one of the most naturally beautiful women I've ever met) even described me as having a "beautiful Portuguese baker's face". Je suis émue.

We are all accustomed to thinking that certain emotions are only meaningful when they come from a significant other. That we are not really beautiful or special until a beloved arrives to make us feel as much. But the truth is, there is love around us all the time and that feeling of "being special" is always there - if only we can stop complaining long enough to see it.

Whether any man will ever find me beautiful (and mean it) is entirely conjectural, but I am daily surrounded by loving people who think the world of me. As long as I have their love, I think I'll be okay.

That being said, don't forget to remind someone of how beautiful they are - you have no idea how it may touch them.

Carpe diem

The discussion about carpe diem started with Alston's blog post and upon further consideration, I want to continue the conversation with you.

So if you want, first glance at the post (and comments) and then come back.

You back? You made yourself coffee too in the meanwhile? Clever thing...

So as you may know, this ubiquitous Latin phrase, which roughly translated means seize the day, is often quoted to express a notion of "don't let life pass you by" and "live life to its fullest". What happens in the West however, is that we assume  it gives us free licence. In that, if we follow "carpe diem", we can eat what we want, drink what we want, have sex with... anything, and that we don't have to care about the consequences.

But that's not it. Horace, in the ode from which this phrase is taken, rather urges us to not waste our time on earth. Scale back your long hopes to a short period. A reminder to do today what we would put off until tomorrow because we cannot know if tomorrow will come.

No where does it say, "have a great time and screw everyone else".

In the book I'm reading for yoga teacher training, Georg Feuerstein writes the following in relation to the Bhagavad Gita, 

This view has not always been emphasized sufficiently in Western interpretations... If action depended solely on one's frame of mind, it would be the best excuse for immoral behaviour. ... For action to be "whole" (kritsna), or wholesome, it must have two essential ingredients: subjective purity (ie. non-attachment) and objective rationality (ie. moral rightness).

Without getting into the whole issue of non-attachment, this passage does make the point that we must still be moral, compassionate and respectful in every thing we do. It is entirely possible to "live life to the fullest" and still be responsible to those around us, but somehow the true meaning of the phrase has been twisted around in the West.

Perhaps it says something about our lifestyle. Perhaps Westerners feel so bound by the pressures and stress of life in North America (earn more! be skinnier! get rid of that hook nose!) that we instinctively look for "outs" that will free us from our obligations. And perhaps it also says something about our inherent puritanism in that when we want to break free from our lives, it's interpreted as happening through extreme behaviour.

Anyone want to add to the discussion? My mind has been rather wrapped up in these concepts for the last few days and I'm eager to understand it even better.

Valentine's Day 2009

Valentine's Day has always been a day spent with my best friends. There's usually a fantastic meal+vino involved, consumed in the dark corner of a favourite restaurant (away from the gooey-oozy couples, bien sur). Much laughter. More crude talk than I'm willing to admit to.

A good time is generally had by all, you know.

I don't give the chocolate hearts and flower bouquets too lingering a thought. Although it would be nice to receive some, I'm not going to throw myself into a pit of despair if I don't receive any.

Except yesterday, I got a very sweet Valentine from a total stranger on the 80 bus.

I was listening to some Basia Bulat when the young, clean-cut Indian man sharing the two-seater with me suddenly held out a blue gumball before my face. I watched his lips form the question: "Sweet?"

Bewildered, I slid off my earphones and said, "A sweet? Oh, no thank you, I'm already chewing gum."

Turns out he's only been in Canada for two months, loves our winter, is studying ESL at McGill and hopes to make movies one day. He also has a sweet tooth and carries a pocket full of gum balls to feed his habit. Because my mother taught me well as a child, I don't accept anything edible from strangers, but he was so earnest in his desire to practice speaking English that I did not refuse when he insisted that I take a gumball - "No, two gumballs!" - for later.

So you'll understand if I say that I don't feel as if I missed out by not having a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. I had a great yoga practice, good chats with people who are important to me, a surprise gift from a stranger on the bus, a sumptuous dinner with those I love most, and ice cream for dessert.

I'm feeling pretty loved, thanks.

Your interesting facts of the day!

Buddhism is not a religion. It is a way of looking at the world. Buddha is not a God. He is a spiritual teacher.

Really.

In order for it to be a religion, Buddhism would have to presuppose the existence of one supreme entity that is superior to all other entities. And since Buddhism posits that we are all equal, this presupposition cannot be made. The continuous emphasis on the difference between the Supreme Being and mortal, undeserving you is not built into Buddhism. Neither is the demand for blind faith than comes with most pre-packaged religions.

Secondly, the Buddha is simply a teacher who attained true enlightenment. We - you and me - are all capable of attaining that same level of enlightenment. Whereas we all have the potential to be a Buddha, we have no hope of ever becoming Jesus. Although he's a great guy, Jesus, like Paris Hilton, was simply born into the right family. With Buddhism, pedigree doesn't count so much as your willingness to rise above the conditions you were born into.

Please feel free to use this information as an ice breaker at your 5a7 tonight.

(now if you're very lucky, next week I'll share some interesting facts about ayurveda, which I must study as part of the yoga teacher training. Take that, gunas!)

God, religion, etc.

A talented writer I know recently addressed the subject of church-going in her blog. An excellent piece of writing that touched on many of the same questions I've been unravelling these last few years.

Questions that had already been re-opened on Christmas Eve when I agreed to attend mass. My purpose was to see my niece and nephew in the Christmas pageant, so I had no shame in sitting on a way-back pew with my brother and going through the paces.

I was not surprised to discover that I still remembered the prayers, the ceremonies and the sitting-kneeling-standing protocols. I was a little more taken aback however, when I realized that the words I murmured no longer echoed with meaning. I felt nothing. The only emotion I could muster was discomfort when I heard, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed."

So when DB wrote the following about Unitarianism, I understood the attraction:

So the focus, as far as I could see, was upon creating a strong community of independent-minded individuals: be who you are, follow your own path, and come hang out with us because we will value and support you as you do it. I mean, how cool and comforting is that?

The Catholic Church and I parted ways for many reasons, the chief of which remains little-or-no acknowledgment of the power of the human deity. I could never reconcile myself to the concept that I had to be good enough to be let into heaven, that I needed God's forgiveness to live my life in peace and happiness, that whatever I achieved, I achieved thanks to God.

In my world, everything I achieve is thanks to my hard work - and the support and love of others around me. I make my own heaven here on earth. And I only need the forgiveness of my fellow beings - and myself - to live in peace and happiness. I try to make the world a better place on a daily basis. That is our superhero power as human beings - our ability to positively impact our lives and the lives of those around us with actions and words.

But I never learned about that in the churches of my youth.

Bref, I don't believe in the God that my parents sold me. I think there is a place for God in my universe, but I haven't figured out how our relationship is going to work yet. I just wanted to thank DB for reminding me that I am not alone in this quest, and that we must all find a spiritual outlook through which to see the world - whether it be through the church doors or while listening to your heart beat and waiting for the light to turn green.

Seriously, read DB's post and let her know what you think.

Maria + Serafino Palanca, May 18, 1963

I'm finally starting to decorate at home. After almost a year, I finally have a feel for how I want my home to look and I'm starting with photos. I ransacked my mom's photo albums and came up with stacks of vintage snaps. Family members at various ages. Taken in Italy, in Canada. Black and white, sepia, and colour. I want to surround myself with reminders of who I am, and where I came from.

This picture from my parents' wedding day is already a favourite.

My dad is so handsome, my mom so beautiful. I wonder what became of the little boy peering back at the camera from the left side. I can feel the sumptuous fur of the woman's shawl on the left. You can almost hear the whisper of her wedding dress as she strides up the aisle.

Such elegance.

Resolutions 2009

1. Get the tattoo. Booked for April 2009.
2. Complete yoga teacher training. Booked for June 2009.
3. Finish decorating my home. In progress. Psst! Anyone good at hanging frames?
4. Forget how to macarena. One day at a time, lotus flower, one day at a time.
   

I am so good at this. Does anyone need me to do their resolutions too? I already don't smoke, if that helps.

Why I love my job

Taken today during a
lunchtime bike ride on the mountain.

Bad Adriana!

Yesterday night I had the option of staying in and blogging, or going to a fancy pool in Westmount.

Obviously, I'd like to thank the nice rich people for going to some fancy rich destination and leaving the pool to us plebes.

The nature of memories

Today I went on a marathon bike ride with Mani and Paula (hey, I haven't had an Internet connection for three days - I had to do something). We started at Marché Bonsecours, cycled west to the tip of Parc René-Lévesque in Lachine, and then back again. That's 40+km of pedalling along Montreal's fine bike paths.

With all that time to think, I made some fairly interesting conclusions about the nature of memories. Gather around kids - I'm going to share them now...

The last time I visited Parc René-Lévesque was late fall, early winter of 2007. SM and I went for one of our usual strolls. I had cherry green tea (my fave) from Second Cup. It was chilly. As we rounded the southern arc of the path, he told me about his friends who were CEGEP teachers - one in Abitibi, the other in Montreal. As we came back along the northern arc, he reminisced about the video store he went to as a kid, and all the terrible movies he saw.

The interesting thing is - there was nothing really remarkable about that day or what we talked about. We often went to Second Cup. We often took long, rambling walks. We often discussed. I didn't feel the need to go home and record it when it happened, and I haven't thought about it since. It was only once I returned to the same place that the memories came back, and that I recognized that day as being worthy of a keep-able memory.

Furthermore, now that I have remembered the moment, every time I go to this park, I will naturally remember that day. Why? Because the act of remembering has upgraded the memory from a mostly-dormant, less-accessed part of my brain to a higher-up, more frequently-accessed part of my brain.

What amazes me is that we have no real control over what becomes a memory and what is forgotten. Mere circumstance often dictates what we remember. Being in a certain place will draw forth memories at random, and once the moment is remembered, it cannot be easily forgotten.

What other good memories are currently dormant in my fuzzy little brain? Where will I next be when a place or thing triggers another flood of words said? The anticipation is actually... delicious.

Shenpa is a bitch!

I've been struggling with the concept of shenpa this week. What's shenpa? As Pema Chodron explains, shenpa is ineffable - you cannot describe it in words, it is immaterial.

But that doesn't lessen the experience of shenpa.

Some words used by Pema Chodron to explain shenpa include attachment, hooked or stickiness, but as she notes, those words do not sufficiently explain just how badly shenpa can kick your butt.

Here's an example of how shenpa works:
Someone tells you that you look fat in 'dem jeans. That feeling in the pit of your stomach? That's shenpa. When that comments feeds into your low self-esteem and you react with anger - towards the person or towards yourself? That's shenpa too. When you start to eat/smoke/drink/swear more to cover up the hurtful comment? Yep, that's still shenpa.

Shenpa is the demon on your shoulder. It's that inner switch that when it gets flipped, leads to thoughts and behaviours that are unhealthy for your self. It's the most vulnerable, self-destructive part of you.

Now you can understand why I've been struggling with shenpa - it's hard-wired. My particular shenpa has been extremely vocal this week, provoking all kinds of chasing-my-tail reflection and frequent ill-humour, so I listened to a lecture by PC, my ear cocked and ready to latch on to some piece of knowledge that might inspire me.

And that's when she began addressing the idea of accepting your situation as if you asked for it.

I know. [chortle] She's got to be kidding, right? How are you going to get out of a situation if you accept it??

Like this:
a) By accepting it, you stop struggling with it.
b) If you're not struggling with it, you gain a more realistic vision of what's really happening.
c) If you see things as they really are, then you can make better decisions.
d) If you make better decisions, you will get out of the situation.

Or at least that's how I understand it. I could be wrong, but it seems like it may be a good start towards shaking off shenpa. It doesn't sound easy, but I prefer working towards acceptance than being upset all the time.

Between this post and the previous post about bodies, I must sound like one got-it-together chick.

But I'm not.

My only achievement is being actively involved in trying to get it together. Sometimes I lose patience. Sometimes I lose my mind. I'm still working at it though.


Palanca Health Watch: The TB-like cough I've been hacking out all week long is perhaps subsiding, and I was actually able to sleep through the night, alleluia!

Things I learned on my day off

• They paint the Butter People. I was walking towards downtown yesterday when I noticed some guy hugging the wide-eyed woman in the front row (holding the child). Turns out, he was bracing himself so that he could paint the length of her back. It looked touching for a moment - almost as if the performance were part of an art installation. I guess they have to paint them one at a time. The statues are too close to be done all at once, no?
  
• Vitamin Water is now available in Quebec. Saw the truck parked outside a dep while biking home from yoga. If I had remembered to put money in my lulus, I would have purchased EVERY-TING!
  
• If you have a pimple, put toothpaste on it to dry out the pore. It has to be the paste though, and not the gel. But whatever you do, remember to wipe it off before you leave the house.
• Ghostbusters is still funny after all these years - but for different reasons. First, a pencil-pusher from the Environmental Protection Agency (Yes. This man has no dick.) is the bad guy in this movie. Did Republicans make this movie? Second, the special effects are terrible - in comparison to today's standards anyway. It makes me sad to think that people born within the last ten years or so will never know just how far movie magic has come. Those of us born in the 70s and 80s have seen the evolution to The Matrix (and beyond), but there's a new generation of movie watchers who will never have the kind of the cringing memories of CGI in its earliest days.
  

Go outside

I was invited by a childhood friend to spend the long weekend in a chalet up north, but as my rib-shuddering cough shows no sign of letting up, I declined in favour of spending a slow, mending weekend at home.

What I would have really liked was go camping. I've never been and everyone I know is seemingly too-citified to consider it. Powell, for example, refuses to go anywhere without an electrical outlet for her hair dryer. One of my colleagues at work, at the mention of camping, snortled and said, "People only go camping because they think it's romantic, but it isn't."

And my parents get wide-eyed and worried when I mention camping. They grew up in tiny mountain villages that electrical wires did not reach until the 1950s. Scrambling around in the dark, washing up with cold water and eating dried berries is not fun - those are the main reasons why they escaped Italy and emigrated to Canada.

"I break my back to give you and your brother a good life, and you want to go and live in the woods? You crazy? Here, eat this. It give you some sense."

Do you see the negative attitudes that I'm surrounded by? Even if I hate camping, how am I supposed to know until I try it? It's very unfair.

I love my urban life with its random, unexpected beauties. The sound of church bells on Sunday morning. The statue of Athena in my neighbour's yard. The ever-permeating smell of pizza in the Berri metro. The taste of hot samosa. The texture of my bicycle handles.

But with so much to see in the world - so many natural wonders - can you blame me for being restless?

Until then, I will treat my TB-like cough with tea, movies, Mary J and Wyclef Jean... (has anyone told that guy that he looks like Jean Destiné?)

Online poll question

Yes, I watched the finale of Grey's Anatomy, (does anyone still care about Meredith and Derek? YAWN) and yes, I've had a hot bath, so those events may have indeed precipitated this burning question.

What do you do when you realise that there is someone you just can't do without?

Or what have you done. Or if you had a big Hollywood budget, what kind of extravagant gesture would you come up with?

I expect stories. Suggestions. Advice, Comments. Seriously. This is life or death here.

Hello Vitamin Water!

Whenever I go to the U.S, there are two products that I immediately procure:
1) Orbit gum (mint mojito, if I can help it)
2) Vitamin Water

Not only are we Canadians being deprived of two really delicious products, but now I also discover that the Vitamin Water website kicks our Canadian asses design-wise as well. The site is so bee-yoo-ti-ful, I wish I could make out with it.

Why aren't we producing websites like that?

Or commercials like these, for that matter:



Oh, Snoop, you're so wacky!

I want to be Durga!

As far as Hindu goddesses go, Lakshmi, all serenity in her pink lotus, is pretty hot. She's the personification of fortune, beauty and prosperity - no wonder she's the consort of Vishnu, the supreme being! They're the Brangelina of the Hindu universe.

I'm all Lakshmi-ed up - wall-to-wall love and prosperity are coming my way, people. But I have to say that if given the choice, I would choose Durga over Lakshmi.

For the geek set, this is somewhat akin to making a choice between Princess Leia and Padmé Amidala. Between Eowyn and Arwen. Between gorgeous and kick ass, and beneficent and just having a sweet can. Do you feel me?

Why you should want to be Durga too:

1. She's exquisitely beautiful.
2. She's a supreme goddess.
3. She rides a lion or tiger.
4. She convinced the male gods to give her their fiercest weapons.
5. She is the embodiment of creative energy.
6. All the male gods want to get down with her.
7. Her name in Sanskrit means 'invincible'.
8. She is fearless.

Although in some aspects of my life, I should be a little less invincible, I could stand to learn a little more fearless. Maybe if I had some crazy chakra karate chop...

While I work it out, embrace your inner Durgas!

My Canadiens jersey

Warning to any readers from Jasper3: Stop reading immediately. This is not really hockey-related.

Upon emerging from the yoga studio tonight, I knew the Habs were losing because the cool, rainy night was not filled with the joyful cries that accompany near-misses or the end of another spectacular penalty kill.

For the first time in a long time, I wanted to put on my jersey and sulk like all good Habs fans must do now and again. But then I remembered that I don't have it anymore. And I was sad.

But then I remembered that one of my favourite people in the world has it. And I was happy again.

Especially happy to think that my memory lives on outside the fraught fenced-in perimeter of my own consciousness. That maybe I impact the lives of other people even when I'm not around. That there are all kinds of people out there who love me even if they aren't around to tell me so.

That I don't have to explain to people why I'm wearing a Russ Courtnall jersey from 1990.

So here's something for you to do... Remember something of you that you left behind - or dig up something special that someone once left with you, marvel at how much it is cherished, remember how much you love that person or how much they still love you.

It will be very good for your heart.

Jasper3 - if you're still reading - don't say I didn't warn you.

Spring fever

Ever notice how the arrival of spring brings on sunglass fever?

"Oh my God, are those your sunglasses? They're so cute. Put them on.  I want to see them on you. Soooo cute."

"I know. I love them! What are yours like? Take them out. Can I see? Wow - soooo sexy."

"Hey guys! What's up?... Oh my God, are those your sunglasses? You ladies look so hot! Check out mine..."

Sound familiar? I think I've had that conversation about six times in the last four days.

Happy sunshine. xx

Happy birthday to me!

Having spent most of today in active contemplation - painting gives you a lot of time to think - I came up with a gratitude list of people I have to thank for the wonders and discoveries of the last year.

Without further ado, thank you...

Ma and Pa, for receiving me into this world with so much joy and for sustaining it (even while making me crazy)

Pietro, for helping me deal with the parental units

Cara and Luca, for always throwing your little arms around my neck and kissing me even when I don't ask for it

Zac and Ben M, Ben and Naomi W, Cosmo and Alex D, a child's love is not given easily, and knowing this makes your tender welcomes even more special

Powell, for reminding me that I don't need to be so serious all the time and for inspiring change

SM, for teaching me to accept compliments and for thinking I have beautiful feet

Tom, for talking me off the cliff whenever I get dangerously close to the edge

Mani and Mark, for wiping my tears and feeding me sushi more times than I can count

Paula, for teaching me new things about myself - even though you're not trying

Fadi, for giving me faith

Steve and Dina, for feeding me and for letting me chase your kids down the hall

Alexis D, for thinking I'm cool - even after all these years - and for letting me hang out with your family

Melissa, for thinking I could party like a rock star

Sandra, for being my sexy (platonic) girlfriend

Rachel, Lindsay, and AMC, for being the bestest girl crushes (giggle)

my colleagues, for smiling through yet another diva crisis as I rant about preposition use and for letting me believe I run the place (I do!)

my fellow women writers, for doing things with words that take my breath away

And last but not least, thank you body, for happily carrying me through another year with little complaint.

If I haven't mentioned you by name - blame it on my lack of sleep and a too-heavy penchant for sentimentalism tonight. Know that I love you like mad and will happily tell you so. I cannot wait to see what adventures we'll get up to this year... hey, who wants to go to India??