Keira-anne.com

It’s 5:48pm, and I am sitting in an apartment that’s too warm, with fans that are too breezy and a puppy that’s the right amount of cuddly on my lap. Another puppy alternates between staring intensely out the window at passerby and thrashing his stuffed soccer ball. You’d think that I wouldn’t have many cares in the world, but at this moment, I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining to you all how I feel. Because, the truth is, I don’t even know what I’m thinking. While many of you may have developed a sunburn over the last few days, my brain’s caught ADD - or so it feels.

Sitting at my desk on Friday, I knew that something was amiss. The only way I could describe what I was feeling was that my soul drains were clogged. Anticipating a renewing experience the next morning at my Hidden Language yoga class with a handful of awesome ladies (my mom included), I pushed the feeling away, knowing I’d soon find a cure for the clog while bending and writing.

Photo: justthisguyyouknow on Flickr

The next morning, as I twisted my spine and gaze gently at my stretched out left palm, my eyes met the small, box-shaped window that ran across the top of the heritage space. Between my eyes and the blue sky were the roof ledge of the building next door and the top spirals of some sort of tower. I thought to myself “this isn’t right…after an experience like this, I should be able to walk out into an environment that reflects what I’m feeling in here.”

I wanted to leave my gem of a yoga studio and be surrounded by lush trees, warm sun, water, earth and the sounds of birds flying in the distance. Instead I was met with sirens, exhaust, buses, concrete, vehicles, rancid food smells and a whole other bouquet of unsavouriness. And as we ladies walked to brunch after class, I suddenly remembered something a old friend of mine once told me as we sat on my balcony at 2am one night: he said “You know, it’s really strange that you live 12 storeys off the ground. It isn’t natural to live up so high.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was right. And so the next day I walked to my 11th-floor office and he caught an early ferry back to Vancouver Island. That right there says so much.

Photo: justthisguyyouknow on Flickr

This afternoon, as I navigated my way through the steel chaos, first to Stanley Park and then to drop my mom off (ironically so she, too, could catch a ferry to Vancouver Island), I found myself amazed that I hadn’t ripped my hair out. Every other word falling out of my mouth was enough to make a sailor blush. How I’ve managed to live in downtown Vancouver for as many years as I have is somewhat astonishing. Only within recent months have I realized how un-me it is; how unnatural it is. And yet, I feel so stuck in neutral without the possibility of change. Only weeks ago I felt so close and so on the precipice of that kind of change, but my hopes came shattering around me that Sunday morning on the bathroom floor.

What I seem so often to forget is that so many others are walking around in the same state that I am in. We all desire change, something new in our lives, we all dread going to work on Monday mornings, we all dread bill-paying time each month and can’t figure out how to jump off the gerbil wheel. Maybe we’re too scared that we’ll bump our own asses as we make the leap, or maybe we’re all just too scared to find out what is - or isn’t - off the wheel.

Is it up to the universe to make our choices for us and come what may via fate? Or are we expected to make decisions and have a little bit of faith that they’re the right decisions? If anything, I’m writing this as a means to exorcising my cognitive demons. Sometimes this is the best way to untangle the ball of Christmas lights…or at least start chipping away at it.

This morning I woke with the sun and made an early morning trek to Chinatown to partake in a Hidden Language yoga class with two beautiful ladies, Phaedra and Jennifer. Being more of one who enjoys the practice of yoga as a whole (being mind, spirit and body), I was sure that this class held the benefits I desired. I am not sure what I believe in terms of ideas such as chakras and energy centres, but I’m open minded and not at all oblivious to the fact that we each possess a great deal of our own insights; the question is how do we tap into those insights? I may have tapped into some of my awareness with one simple question asked of each of us during our practice: “What do you know in your heart?”

I suddenly dropped my head in an effort to halt the tears I knew wanted to come. The answer came instantly and it came clear.

Love is grassroots.

Photo: Baileyblack on Flickr

As I sat in meditation, I saw the faces of the people in my life that I love. I saw my family members, my friends. What struck me about my love for them is how it is I demonstrate it to them. Love isn’t exemplified through encouragement notes or gifts or acting sweetly. It isn’t even necessarily validated through words.

Love is an action that we take. It is forgiveness, understanding, caring. To truly love somebody is to see the beauty in them that they often don’t see themselves. Sometimes they refuse to see it.

Real love is the most complex concept demonstrated in the most simple of ways.

There is one thing I know for sure that women today do not have enough of. Other women. I’ve spent much time over the last several days thinking, talking, learning, inspiring, instigating, gaining insight and pondering how important friendships are among women. There is a lot of strength and love to be found there, penultimate only to the strength and love we need to seek within ourselves. Remembering to take care of one’s self is a daily necessity and yet something that we seemingly need to be reminded of each day.

After work, I skipped down Main Street with my friend Kortney to meet up with Phaedra and take in a yoga practice. I’ve needed to get back into it for a long time, but I wanted to avoid two things: 1) high membership fees; and 2) the pretentiousness and competitive nature of 99% of yoga studios in downtown Vancouver. Last week, Phaedra discovered Radha Yoga and Eatery in Chinatown.

“radha yoga & eatery offers yoga in a beautiful studio room, consciously-created vegan food in the restaurant, and art & music events for inspiration…radha is a sacred space that embraces people, art and culture. Community is supported and all spiritual traditions are valued. In Eastern mythology Radha flees ordinary life to be with her divine lover, who calls with his mystical flute. “Radha” means cosmic love. At radha you are invited to taste nourishment on all levels.”

I spent a little over an hour clearing my mind of the day’s mud puddles while simultaneously realizing each and every instance I came across for what it was. To further explain how my yoga practice affected me is really pointless because it’s something that really needs to be experienced in every aspect to be fully understood.

After yoga, we nourished our bodies at The Foundation at Main Street and 7th Avenue. It was too tasty to be believed.

The more I attempt to use happyfrog, the more useful I’m realizing it really is. When I had first heard about the project, I was very excited about it but not sure how much I’d actually make use of it. As it turns out, I really am using it - as I did so again today.

Years ago, I began practicing yoga on a somewhat random basis. Once arriving in Vancouver, I attempted to keep up with my practice through a studio located near my office. However, it wasn’t long before I passed up on it because it seemed to be a place for the trendies to parade around in their oh-so-chic yoga gear, rather than a group of people dedicated to practicing yoga as a means of making one’s self well from within. Stay with me here, Wang Chi.

I was excited to see that the Kingfisher Resort and Spa, located in the Comox Valley, was listed on happyfrog’s website. Not long ago, the Kingfisher Spa built a gorgeous yoga space, known as the Starfish Studio, only steps from the ocean. With ambient lights and a suspended cork floor, the Starfish Studio at the Kingfisher provides a “zensational” place to practice.

Tonight I took part in two classes, one being a Gentle Flow class and the other a Restorative practice. Each hour-long session will set you back $12 (though you can purchase a 10-visit pass for $100), and includes use of the mats, yoga props and provides lemon water and organic herbal tea to rejuvenate at the end of your practice. The instructors are gentle, kind-hearted and truly strive to see you honour yourself in your practice.

Needless to say, involving yourself with yoga at the Kingfisher is a truly unique experience, one that restores you in ways that perhaps you were unaware needed any sort of attention. At the end of my second class tonight, as is no surprise, I fell asleep only to be woken up in time for Shavasana. It never fails. At least I didn’t start to snore this time.

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I must apologize for the lack of activity on my Flickr site as of late, but I managed to zap a bunch up this evening with iPhoto, so check them out if you have the chance. There are a few Christmas pics, a few shots I snapped of Charley frolicking in the snow and some of my friend Kourtney and I. We have known each other since the day she was born (being that our mothers were good friends in Port Hardy back in the 70s). Before Christmas Day, we hadn’t seen each other in at least four years and have come to quickly realize that we were both missing out on so much. She’s a beautiful soul.