Stopping the excuses!

I've been doing it, well I've been doing better at not making excuses anyway. Not only have I been finding time to do some writing but I've managed to get on my yoga mat almost daily! I aim for twenty minutes, sometimes I get a little more, sometimes its a little less but every minute is a gift I'm giving to myself. My practice doesn't run smooth most days, its often interrupted by my toddler using me as his personal jungle gym or my eight month old wanting to be directly on the mat with me. I do my best to not get frustrated, I keep telling myself the novelty will wear off but thus far I'm still like a day at the circus for them but more and more my heart smiles and I embrace it knowing I won't always be the center of their world. I breathe in the love and use the experience as a metaphor; the reality of Yoga is far more than a mat practice. In life there are tones of distractions around to keep us from the goal of yoga; which translates to union, union of self to source, a melting point where our higher self and physical self are one. All I can do incorporate them into my practice when they wish to be present, they are implanted in my world so it only makes sense they be an influence on my asana practice.

They say the way you approach your mat is a direct reflection of how you approach life; I approach my mat with reverence, a bit of excitement to see what will transfold but there is usually some hesitation as well. I'm discouraged by my lack of flexibility, which in itself shows I also have a bit of self judgment. There is a rigidness in my body that doesn't seem to match my personality. I'd like to reason that bearing two children in the last two years is a valid excuse for my inflexibility but I could hardly touch my toes before they came to be. I figured most people would describe me as pretty easy going, I'd like to think I can surrender to the flow but perhaps this is a truth I've yet to see about myself, could it be possible that I am not as easy going as I perceive myself to be?

After a discussion with the woman who knows me best the one who can tell me the absolute truth that even I may not see (speaking of my Mother of course), it turns out that "easy going" is not really what comes to mind when describing me. Easy to get along with yes, kind, wonderful, inquisitive and dozens more lovely adjectives but easy going? Not really, She laughed saying "easy going as long as things are going your way."

I too laughed because it hit a truth chord in me, one I was vaguely familiar with. I tend to get things my way, I was raised an only child, the first grandchild, always had lots of friends who seemed to enjoy playing they games I wanted to play. I was never referred to as spoiled because I had gratitude and compassion even at a young age, but along with that I had a knack for getting what I wanted. So what does all of this mean? Was I a control freak and not even aware of it? Nobody I talked to would ever label me as a control freak. The fact that I've succumb to my children hijacking my mat practice shows I can adapt and find a way to enjoy what life throws at me. So I'm left to ponder labels, purpose and truth. I'm feel I'm on the cusp of a huge revelation about myself, I can feel it vibrating in my core, my cells are alive and senses are hightend, now its time to retreat and see what transpires... Hi Friends, my goal is to make a career out of writing, if you would like to support my efforts you can do so by clicking below and making a donation, thank you for your continued support

What is a reason versus an excuse?

My husband asked me about my writing and I told him I hadn't been doing any, he asked me why? and I explained rather pointedly that I've been a little busy having and raising babies for the last two years! He said that was an excuse, my ego engaged and I thought for a second about punching him, I didn't of course but in my head I yelled at him and said ONLY A MAN WOULD SAY THAT! I told him no it was not an excuse it was the reason I hadn't been writing but there was something soft, whispering underneath the rage I was doing my best to keep a hold of. I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, he wasn't judging me, he wasn't trying to be mean, he had a message and then I heard what he was saying but it was coming from a different source, from somewhere inside me. What? No way! I rejected what was arising and argued more with myself than with him; "any mother can tell you how much of your time it takes to raise a child and run a home, especially with two under the age of of two! Are you nuts how am I supposed to find time to pee let alone write!" My head reeled but my heart, oh my sweet always honest heart, was beating a different note and to my amazement it was in agreement with my husband! Could it be true? I realized I'd convinced myself there was no time to do many of the things my heart was longing to do. I watched a wonderful motivational video and one line that hit me hard was "you've got to want it more than you want sleep!" I have been so concerned that if I didn't nap when the babies did I'd be tired, that if I didn't stay in bed and go back to sleep in the wee hours of the morning until they awoke I'd surely be drained for the day. All valuable time I could be dedicating to the whispers of my heart instead of the fear based assumptions about what the future would be like if I didn't take precaution i.e. get more sleep, must have sleep, more sleep needed was the mantra playing in my head but the funny part; I wasn't even feeling tired! Okay a little but I knew if I took more time to meditate, some time to exercise, laid out my yoga mat, a minute to write down the questions I was contemplating to add to my novel or blog about I would stop feeling like there was not enough time. Now that doesn't mean I'm going to start setting an alarm and waking up at four in the morning to meditate, or choose my yoga mat over a nice nap in the afternoon on those days I feel I'd benefit more from the extra sleep what it does mean is I'm making it my intention to pay better attention to what is real. What am I truly feeling in each moment, do I need the sleep or am I projecting a fear based reaction to some unforeseen future of sleep deprivation thus inducing stress which of course leads to mental exhaustion leaving me drained feeling tired and the cycle continues... Wish me luck and stay tuned, I think this time I'm truly back! My goal is to make a career out of writing, if you would like to support my efforts you can do so by clicking below and making a donation, thank you for your continued support

giving birth in India

I haven't blogged in quite some time, months actually and I'm sorry for that but life with two children under two has a way of making the days disappear in an instant and because of this a few things have been placed on the back burner one of which has been this blog. But now with a bit of a routine established it is my intention to get back to my weekly (ok let me be realistic I’ll try for bi-weekly) blog.

There is so much to talk about I don’t even know where to begin, I guess giving birth in India is a huge experience that many of you have patiently been waiting to hear about so I’ll start there: 

I chose to have my second child in India knowing it would be a scheduled c-section because of my son’s early arrival and the “t” incision that was made, with this type of cut the uterus is not able to withstand contractions and a normal delivery is not an option.

C-sections are performed quite regularly in India in fact the majority of births at every hospital I looked into result in operations. After meeting the right match for a doctor (she has been at this for decades) I trusted I was in good hands and informed my family in both countries.

I knew my Indian family would be pleased and my Canadian family responded as I expected; they had their worries but respected my decision. My mother decided she would come after the baby was born to help out but divine intervention brought her here the week before the delivery. In my 38th week the doctor was eager to do the operation, my family sat outside the operating room patiently waiting.

*In traditional India no one is allowed in during the delivery outside of the operating team, and no men are allowed to be part of the delivery team. 

As I lay prepped for surgery my doctor came in and informed there was an emergency c-section she had to perform but would get to me shortly and to just relax. My mind was getting away from me, unlike Canada I wasn’t allowed to bring my mala beads into surgery with me, which was kind of ironic to me, this being the land of mantras. So it was hard to distract myself.

The baby from the emergency section was brought into my room and worked on he/she wasn’t breathing, they suctioned and smacked it’s feet trying to get a reaction, a flood of emotions surfaced as I witnessed this tiny little being trying to find its first breath. My memory flooded with memories of my first delivery and the team that worked on my son, tears filled my eyes but love filled my heart, I took a deep breath and summoned every healing power I have ever worked with, I was calm and focused, I felt this was why I had been bumped, we were serving one another, he/she needed me to be a conductor for healing waves and the experience was needed by me to release the last bit of fear that still hid in my sub-conscious about the delivery.

As light energy poured into the room the baby chocked out a soft cry and tears streamed down my cheeks, you’re gonna be just fine I whispered and the baby let out a perfect wail, it was wrapped and ushered away, the nurses smiling in success.

 My doctor came in and twenty minutes later my surgery was complete, she was fast and efficient despite a little blip where my daughters foot remained wedged in my rib cage (a somewhat unbearable pain I had been dealing with for a few weeks prior.) They had to do compressions which at the time, a bit woozy from the anesthesia, I wondered silently if she was caught or if my heart had stopped beating, I couldn’t understand a lot of what was being said since my Hindi is still weak but I do know they had to do suction and get her breathing while she was still caught inside of me.

I prayed and told God if only one of us could stay to take me and with the next compression she was out of me. Being blindfolded, they use a blindfold instead of a curtain, I actually preferred it, it allowed to me to just be with my baby and my body instead of distracting myself with the action going on around me, I couldn’t see anything but the sound of her beautiful cry assured me she was alive and kicking. “Your first child is a son?” the doctor asked “yes” I replied “now you have a daughter” she said “perfect family” I heard many of the nurses murmur, “is she ok?” I asked “Yes Yes she’s perfectly healthy” she replied as a nurse moved my head to the side and removed my blindfold “your baby girl’ she said holding this wide eyed bundle, puffy faced beauty close to my face

“Hi” I whispered “Mommy’s almost finished I’ll be able to hold you soon” her eyes were smiling as they danced with mine, I stared at her with amazement and a bit of bewilderment. They put the blindfold back over my eyes and I heard the footsteps as they walked out of the room with my precious girl…

I have taken responsibility once again for my own happiness

I live in India. I actually live in India.

Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself of this because it's easy to get caught up in the every day and forget to be thrilled by adventure around me. I often forget I’m from Canada living on the other side of the world in a culture that is completely foreign to most, mainly because it often feels so natural for me. I usually forget that I am different from anyone else on the street. I refer to most non-Indians as foreigners just like the locals do, not even realizing I too am considered a foreigner by most onlookers. I forget I’m white until I see another white person or I notice a certain discerning stare that can follow me when I’m out on the street and then I think oh yeah, I’m a white girl living in this holy city. There are others but few and far between and I’ve yet to come across one that is like me, most are devotees of one Guru or another, they wear tilak (spiritual marking on their forehead) and dress in Gopi dresses (something I’ve yet to see an Indian girl in, even though it is still considered cultural dress) and live a life that is quite different from mine.

My point is no matter where life takes you or where you find yourself living it’s easy to get caught up and allow it to become mundane, unless of course you consciously choose otherwise. I may be on the opposite side of the world but I still get up cook, clean, go to work, play with my son, wash rinse repeat... it’s easy to let it all lose its magic. But since the 2012 shift I feel something awakening in me, this last year was spent letting go, learning to surrender, the process is far from complete but I have a deeper appreciation for the life I have created, I have taken responsibility once again for my own happiness and reminded myself to be grateful for everything thing that appears in my daily life, even if it seems trivial or worse; annoying.

When I first began travelling to what is now my home town in India it used to hold such magic for me. It was my playground the place where I felt most spiritually alive, where my heart danced in the every day; I know that is why I came to live here. But with so much change since that move not even three years ago; a new marriage, living in a joint family, trying to learn a new language, having a baby, traveling between Canada and India, adapting to new roles, getting pregnant again, and the list goes on… I realized I hadn’t allowed myself much time to digest it all. I was frustrated with myself for feeling out of balance but the shift helped me release a lot of pent up anger/frustration and I found my hearts dance again, my truth surfaced once again and I began to remember why I made such a bold life decision and with that it became easier to express why I made this move and what is needed for me to be authentically happy.

I believe in love there needs to some sacrifice, a great quote from the book the Secret Daughter “the key to a successful marriage is for each spouse to give as much as they thought they possibly could, then give a little more” really rang true for me. I felt like I had been giving and sacrificing too much of myself, I was beginning to harbor resentment but in an a-ha moment with that passage I understood that it was no one’s doing but own, I had been giving and giving but not asking for what I needed in return. I have more in me to give but I had put my own dreams on the back burner, they were still simmering but because I wasn’t adding anything to them, wasn’t paying attention to them at all, they began to burn (hence the pent up anger)

All of that being said I began to voice my dreams again and with an unbelievable soulmate at my side there is now some wonderful change transpiring. My husband and I have decided to completely renovate our guesthouse to make it more functional, we are renovating a portion for us to live in. I have enjoyed my time living in a joint family but I crave a space I can call mine, a space that is my sanctuary, being raised in Canada this is what is normal for me and although I would never trade the time I’ve had living with my large Indian family to find balance and run the types of retreats I want this is the most logical step. As the work began on what will be my deepest heart’s desire manifested before my eyes I began seeing the magic again all around me. Last night as the Indian sun set I watched a group of monkeys make their way to what I can only assume they call home each night, a mommy monkey climbed up the wall with her little one snuggled to her chest and a smile crossed my lips at the human like similarities as my son sat snuggled on my chest. I was breathing in the moment recognizing this discovery channel moment as “my normal”, my son spotted the monkey and began making monkey noises at them,  a simple Canadian girl from a small city living amongst a very different backdrop, once again grateful for all that I have manifested and am manifesting in this spiritual adventure we call life.

My goal is to make a career out of writing, if you would like to support my efforts you can do so by clicking below and making a donation, thank you for your continued support