#firstworldproblems

Posted on February 23, 2012 by Nix

I wonder,

Is it alright for me to moan about the hassles of my daily commute when elsewhere folks have to walk hours just to get to a tap with running water.

Is it alright to sigh about the stresses of my job, when all around me unemployment is rampant.

Is it alright to feel the pinch of singledom, when just weeks ago I watched a friend have to say goodbye forever to her husband as she laid him to his final rest.

Is it allowed that I feel angry and humiliated by an event that was, at the very least a violation of my human dignity and at most the blatant arrogance of bureaucratic law? Elsewhere, vast multitudes face the daily humiliation of poverty, hunger and hopelessness.

But, if I am not allowed to feel these things, am then not also a person in need?

 

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A bit of a twist

Posted on February 16, 2012 by Lem

I’m terribly sorry about this, but with this humble and brief posting of mine I have to take you away from JoAnna’s most likely warm and lovely yoga indian island and transfer you to a cold and snowy Munich night. But don’t worry, the kettle just boiled. Earl Grey, nice and hot. Please, do sit down and have a cup. One sugar, or maybe two? There you go.

Actually, this is the first moment in the past two weeks that I’ve been able to catch a short breath and steal some time for myself, thanks to the blog deadline. Reading the yoga valentine post reminded me of the short affair I had with it. Ok, it was more a one-sided thing. I admit that I tried too hard, and in the end we both agreed that we should just stay friends. Amicable separation, so to speak. We do see each other sometimes – more by accident though. A lot of things do seem to happen by accident in the past few weeks it seems. Smaller and bigger ones. Mostly accidents/incidents that take your breath away and – temporarily – disrupt the flow of the day. And even after the first little shock has worn off, I feel myself breathing a lot more irregular for the rest of the day. It’s no wonder my little affair with yoga hasn’t lasted all that long. I understand breathing is an essential part the whole concept – and I am terrible at it.

So here I am, trying to breathe deeply, trying to get some equilibrium back and trying to embrace the change that all those lumps and bumps have brought with them. Because, gosh darn it, some of the change might be damn good. I might enjoy it. A lot! And I might even give the downward dog another try.

But for tonight I’ll release you back to southern indian islands. It’s been a pleasure and please, do come back for some more tea. Maybe next time, let’s break out this great Gyokuro green tea I received from a fellow student. I’m looking forward to it!

Posted in beginnings, trying | 3 Comments

Love Actually (or: How I Got My 18-year old Thighs Back)

Posted on February 13, 2012 by JoAnna

Happy Valentine’s Day! We’re approaching our two and a half year anniversary and I felt compelled to write a proper letter to express all the things I haven’t gotten around to saying. I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve always had your way with me. You actually managed to convince me to meet up with you on a small island in the south of India (and a proper island at that, one which requires a boat for access) for a whole 30 days and with a jam-packed schedule. Who would have thought I’d agree to it and jump in head first with total abandon? For the last few weeks I’ve found myself embracing 06:00am wake up calls that lead to break-of-dawn meditation sessions and sunrise practices. I’m gleefully gorging on an all-vegetarian spread, cramming a course load of anatomy and nutrition into my head, and throwing in enough spiritualism and Sanskrit for good measure. There’s no meat. There’s no wine, and I’m asleep before most people finish their first aperitif.

*Sigh* It must be glaringly obvious to you that I am in love.

An early morning start with you. There's love all around...

Thanks to you Ashtanga I’m a yogi in the making. Do you remember how I found you? How we first met? It took awhile us to cross paths, because I had to play the field. First there was Hatha, then Power, followed by Sivananda, Iyengar, a short stint with Kundalini and finally Bikram. I dabbled in a bit of everything, but after pushing my ridiculously stiff and unbendable body through 90 hellish minutes of just one of your practices, I was hooked.

I was hooked despite the fact that I woke up the morning after and felt like I had been hit by a truck and dragged down the street for good measure. I was hooked, even in the face of the aches and pains you gave me as my body twisted, turned and stretched itself out over the last few years; the pain annoyingly persistent in the best of times and tortuously transformative in the worst. I am still hooked despite the occasional purplish blue bruises that materialize in the strangest of places and serve as a pseudo-scarlet letter to mark me for the world to see.

Oh, I was hooked all right, and I latched onto you (or you onto me, I’m not entirely sure anymore) like a lovesick fool. That first flush of infatuation rushed to my head and made me long for you with unapologetic athletic abandon. I’ll be honest though, the attraction was superficial at first. I liked how you made me feel, I liked how you sounded and looked. I liked how you treated me. I enjoyed how you gave me (wait, still give me) a post-shavasana glow that lasts until midday, and how you spin fibrous muscle, like a spider in its web, to make it lean, smooth and strong all at once. I’m impressed by your ability to offer a workout that doesn’t involve pounding pavement, spinning wheels or giving up chocolate, and I’m especially thrilled by your innate ability to melt my stiffness just by gracing me with your presence.

Ah yes, you, my dear Ashtanga, are crack-cocaine for the semi-enlightened soul.

Sure, I played hard to get the first few months by agreeing to meet up only once or twice a week, but you doggedly pursued me and found a way of thoroughly seducing me. Our early morning rendezvous’ swiftly increased in number once I realized there wasn’t a good enough reason not to get on the mat. It also didn’t hurt that you taught me some pretty cool tricks; you know, things I’d have never been able to do without your instruction.

Now before you get overly pleased with yourself let me backtrack for a second: it hasn’t been all rainbows, wagging tongues and throbbing red hearts. I moved past that starry-eyed honeymoon phase 9 months ago and was ready to kick you to the curb. Don’t you remember? I wasn’t progressing in my practice because I didn’t understand where the hell you were coming from. I was tired, cranky and demoralized by what you were asking of me and I was pretty sure we didn’t want the same things. We seemed to be on completely different tracks and, frankly, I was so tired of your magnanimous and Zen-like all-knowingness rubbing up against my oh-so-human and flawed persona that I swung to the far end of love’s pendulum to entertain a hatred for you that almost led to the end of our affair.

I don’t quite know what our saving grace was, but I think it helped that you gave me the space to walk away and that I did walk away for a short time, only to realize the sole thing I wanted was get on my mat every morning and greet you. So that’s what I did. I sheepishly showed up one day, you were there (all content, uncomplaining and forgiving) and the rest is history.

And as I rediscovered the multitude of things we have in common, my pseudo hatred moved back along the spectrum – beyond infatuation – to turn into a deeper kind of love. The kind of love that stuns you by showing you how utterly transformational it can be. Thanks to your patience and gentle persuasion I shifted long standing habits over time, case in point: I now find myself getting up shortly after dawn to get on the mat before moving on with the rest of my day. Not only am I a bright-eyed morning person thanks to you, but you’ve altered what I eat (minus chocolate, fish and wine – come on, we all have our vices), how I breathe, and the way I think about things, along with a host of other non-yogic things in my life. 

You – body whipping, ass kicking, soul shaking – Ashtanga have changed my life (*insert mock swoon here*). I insist: dinner on the 14th is on me.

By the way, in conjunction with all the yoga-related love you’ve rained down, there is one thing in particular I wanted to specially thank you for next time we meet. During the throes of our tumultuous relationship I managed to find my 18-year old thighs (or more spiritually put “my 18-year old thighs found me”) and I have a sneaky feeling you’re behind this reunion. Since you’re forever modest I doubt you’ll own up to it, but just for the record you are aware that 18-year old thighs are equivalent to a platinum ring with 2 karats worth of heavy metals on top don’t you? Killer thighs trumps platinum and flowers any day, and based on that fact alone I dare anyone to tell me that what we have isn’t true love.

Whatever. To hell what anyone thinks. It’s the most thoughtful and original Valentine gift. Ever.

Eternally yours, JoAnna

Posted in community, global, inspiration, relationships, travel, women | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Hastings St

Posted on February 5, 2012 by Kate

This is Hastings St, Vancouver, BC.

Hastings & Cambie

It’s my favourite street.  Today it’s raining  and we’re walking to my bus stop.  We see this sign:

free marc

Hastings is  upset that Marc Emory, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marc_Emery, a pot advocate, is in jail in the US.

Now we’re waiting at the bus stop.  It’s changed a lot since I started working here; only a few months ago the buildings around it were run down with the odd store selling cast off fabrics or empty.   An artist had painted a sign to look exactly like a City of Vancouver planning permit sign, and nailed it to the brick wall of one of the abandoned buildings.  It railed against the seeping gentrification.  I kept thinking I should take a photo of it, I kept thinking it wouldn’t last.  The developers got it.   Now it’s covered by this:

art is gone

Another sign of change: the Yoga people have arrived.  I now see hipsters holding yoga mats, where once there were the homeless and the mentally ill.   They go to the studio right over the Fabric Liquidator store that’s always been there.

Yoga over liquidators

But the artists are still there.

dreams

dreams

They’ve just moved further down.

The next important stop is Main & Hastings.  It’s the epicentre of an area, of which Hastings is the main artery, called the Downtown Eastside (but locals just call it the DTES).  In the ten years I’ve lived in Van it’s always the area I’ve felt most at home – perhaps because I grew up with mental illness all around me so the unpredictability of the people seems familiar.  It’s absolutely lacking in pretention, of which the rest of the city has too much, and almost everything else as well.  Homes.  Enough food.  Hope.   But the gentrification is heading that way too, they say…

storm warming

condomarcoprah

condomarcoprah

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s changing fast.   One of my favourite signs on my commute to work in the morning was the rip off of an old skool Coke sign, in classic red and white, except it said “Coast Salish” instead of Coca Cola.  Coast Salish is a First Nations band that used to live in this area, before the settlers came.  Then it disappeared.  I think I know what happened to it.

demo

Just the tattered shell of the building remains.

DTES love

This cafe (see below) was used in the movie “I, Robot”.  A lot of Vancouver has been in a lot of movies.  What looks like smearings on the lens of my camera?  That’s just rain on the bus window.  I took all these with my phone.

bus window ovaltine

bus window ovaltine

One we pass Gore Ave we’re entering a new phase of Hastings.  It’s industrial and commercial.  It’s like any industrial/commerical area on any street.  To the north are the cranes and buildings of Vancouver port, to the south just buildings.  But things start to shift at Nanaimo.  Suddenly the word “family” starts appearing on shops.

family

Then at Boundary Road,  Hastings St becomes part of a different city: Burnaby.  And a very different part of that city: wealthy.  It finally feels cared for.   The architecture is heavily influenced by the surrounding Italian community, and it’s expensive and well built.  Some of the buildings have Italian-influenced names, too.

tramonto

But even here change is coming.  The city is growing fast, they say…

altezza

And empty lots and old commercial buildings are being torn down and turned into condos.  This neighbourhood calls itself the Heights, and they have a motto for the way life is lived on this part of Hastings St:

life as it should be

Life as it should be?  Maybe.

Life as it is?  …Yes.

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Down the Rabbit Hole

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Bridget

So, it’s just a few days into the year of the dragon and already it’s making me change. My trusty computer, Shamu, had been giving me some problems. Every so often her screen would suddenly go bleaaach… and the whole thing would freeze up. It happened once while I was compiling the epic dragon post. It was very annoying and I had to start a section of it over again – from scratch, but at least it kept on chugging away so I was able to make that final post. Anyway, a few days later I’m trying to watch a YouTube video having something to do with a WordPress plugin (no surprise there) when the screen suddenly goes bleaaach… again and freezes up in a very strange pixilated manner. I went to restart it, as I had the few times before but this time it doesn’t make it past that grey apple screen! I tried a few more times and then left it for the morning so it could sort itself out – but alas it did not! Thank goodness for the new Apple store because I booked myself a free appointment with a genius where I learned, sadly, that my computer is just getting too old. She feared a problem with the video card & the hard drive! So, in a bittersweet moment I bought myself a new top-of-the-line laptop & went home toting the new and the old under my arms; a little heavier in my hands & substantially lighter in my wallet.

At this point I am grateful for a few things:

a) That I have enough to purchase a new, & very awesome, computer without having to worry or go into debt.
b) That all my info was already backed-up on my time capsule. (Time capsule you are brilliant!)
c) That, after I called the Apple guys to clarify how to do it, I was able to move everything from my old computer onto my new one. I did not have to sit there with disk after disk reinstalling everything like in the good old days.
d) That my brainiac husband managed to get my old computer functioning again! Now I can at least use it to perform some non-crucial tasks like playing music, movies, or those evil flash heavy addictive online games.

So, with my new computer by my side, or should I say on my lap, we will be destined for great things. I chose the name Tallulah for her, it means leaping water. She has a crystal clear high-resolution screen and I expect her to bring a great deal of calm and clarity to my life as well as a little adventurous fun! Out with the old and in with the new…

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Fortunes, Predictions & the Year of the Dragon

Posted on January 23, 2012 by Bridget

This is an epic post of great proportions. We’ve taken a break from the norm to bring you an entire collection of thoughts in one stellar post. Seven of us have responded to the theme Fortunes, Predictions & the Year of the Dragon as a tribute to a prosperous new year of good luck, great fortune, and personal well-being. So grab a cup of your favourite tea, maybe some delectable chocolate, and tuck in for a wistful journey through the hearts and minds of women from around the globe. Happy scrolling and Kung Hei Fat Choi!

Enter the Dragon

How can we grow stronger as a world community? What a great question for a year that is purported to be – according to the elusive dragon – core-shaking and transformational. If we had the answer(s) I’m sure we’d be blissfully rolling around in Eden-esque valleys of milk and honey by now. But since we’re still striving for something more, and looking to unify our communities and strengthen the bonds we share with others, I can’t help but think the response is quite elementary: to get to Z you have to start with A; ‘A’ being you, me and the other 7 billion+ inhabitants of planet home via ditching the pessimism and taking on the “be the change you want to see in the world” ideal.

Wait! I know, I know, I used to find the mantra somewhat contrived and magnanimous too (yes I can make changes in my life, but it doesn’t guarantee that anything around me will be transformed for the better and that others will change) but upon reflection I think one big problem was that I aimed the bar too high and had wild expectations. I mean really: “I’m going to cure cancer, be the broker of world peace, own a multinational company and build a time machine” is painfully cute when you’re 12, but it becomes a ridiculously huge task list to juggle when the reality of “adult-life” kicks in.

Forget the big stuff. It’s about heeding Gandhi’s straightforward wisdom and starting with the simple things, the personal things. The stuff we don’t need to wait on tomorrow or next week for, but that we can get on now. Right now. Whatever changes are on the agenda, let’s get started and incorporate them with all the gusto we’ve got. Let’s drop our expectations and stop lamenting the things and people we can’t control as we attempt to find that elusive eudaimonia (what a word!). Even if it’s short lived. Even if it’s only for today. Even if we lose it…let’s find it and enjoy it. Let’s share it. Let’s encourage others to find it. Let’s lose it, find it and share it again.

(Kind of) outside my window: the burned out National Democratic Party building in Cairo (the political party founded by Sadat, strong-armed by Mubarak and dissolved last year). Yalla, out with the old…

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Vitality, strength, empowerment, ambition, good fortune and success are in the forecast for 2012, so why not give into some of the astrological mysticism and see what can be made of the next 342 days (341, 340, 339…) starting with making a better version of ourselves. As we make our way towards whatever “Zs” we have in mind, our stardust is bound to rub off on those who cross our paths to strengthen the bonds already in place and lay the groundwork for creating new ones. According to our Chinese-inspired horoscopes there’s no better time for action, change and movement, so let’s run with it and see if the butterfly effect takes flight. Let’s look for ways to embrace the onset of another spring and let go of the old so we can incorporate the new. Let’s clear the dust and open the windows, clean out the closets, tidy the corners and make a bit of space since extra room is always needed when transformation comes knocking. Let’s lay out the welcome mat and open the door. Wide. Let’s open it really wide. Enter the dragon.

JoAnna Pollonais
Cario, Egypt

All fortune stick shaking related items & drawings were conceived by Bridget.

Bridget Steis
Hong Kong SAR, China

Strength & Courage for Change

From where I’m sitting now, out my window looks quite productive.  There are small businesses around my house, which make very specific pieces and parts of the stuff we use everyday. It’s not very nice living next to these noisy small factories, but despite the noise they represent a part of Japan that is disappearing.  I’m sure the landscape outside my window will change, if not this year, than soon as the owners of these small businesses retire.  People say that manufacturing is dying, so what’s next? In my dreams, I buy the little factory right next door and build a dog park for Ein. Gotta have dreams right….

Digital artwork by Kim

Looking wider at Japan, I can’t forget about Tohoku, which like any injury is the part you want to hold onto tightly because somehow the pressure makes it feel safer even if it doesn’t stop the pain. Good progress has been made, but there is so much more to be accomplished, I know that the recovery will continue on and that’s a big source of hopefulness.  Most of all, the earthquake certainly changed the way I feel about being here, it changed my attitude about my environment, I’ve become a lot freer. I hope that this next year will provide some opportunities to travel around outside Tokyo more.

As far as world events, 2011 was riveting, I’ve not been glued to the news in the way I was during the protests in Egypt since 9/11, no doubt as people were during the earthquake here in Japan.  More and more I wonder if we as human beings are ready for something new, for a real investigation into equality in other’s lives.  We have been fighting for our own equality but when it’s possible to look outside and fight for others real change has started.  Was I proud of the US during the Arab Spring?  Did they speak up loud enough and quick enough?  Isn’t that what is really means to be an American? To stand up for freedom, to fight when necessary, to speak the truth, to protect the safety of those who speak the truth?  Big changes happened and have paved the way for a bright new year of possibility and hard work.  We can’t continue on sleepwalking through our lives when we are comfortable, so many people are not.

Rebellion is not a comfortable choice, but it may be a necessary choice. Can we rebel against inequality? If we are truly living in a dystopia, and all signs point to yes, do we each have the strength, awareness, and courage to make some change?  Take a look at this summary of the 2012 World Economic Forum in London http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/318144. Pretty bleak, right? Or not.  I think reading this we have to stand up and say that we each are global decision makers, we can be powerful, and we can impact the world around us.  Empress Tea, although lighthearted and fun is proof of our hyper-connected world, and I’d like to challenge the ladies of our blog to brainstorm with me how we can create change in our communities as a team.

Perhaps we can start a community project, or plan a day of service as a global team of powerful female social change-makers?  I’m excited to hear your ideas!

Yours in rebellion,
Kim

Kimberly Tierney
Tokyo, Japan

Simply the Three of Us

It’s snow, hard packed, traveled over, waiting for a dusting of freshness to add sparkle and desire. My hair, barely makes it into the elastic, the first pair of glasses I could find in the dark adorn my face, they match my stained fuzzy robe by chance. I’m waiting for the
tile guy to let me know when he will arrive to fix our shower so I can plan the rest of the day, but really, I’d rather be sleeping.

Baby kicks, or more accurately, at this point squirms, inside my belly, I remember why I’m so tired and why I’m not at work for the next year and a wash of je ne c’est quoi over comes me. This is what I’ve wanted for so long, but the best word I can find to describe this current sensation is over whelming. I have become responsible for a life. I will push her out of me with a body that has been learning how to give life for centuries. I will push her out by instinct when I’ve spent months holding her so close.

I am meant to relax; the process will be easier and shorter if I relax. We practice breathing and different positions that will help our daughter make her debut into the world, but have no idea what works for us until the moment arrives. I trust that the three of us will figure it out.

I want her to be kind, to know that everyone is different and that change comes whether you like it or not. I want her to know that you can’t judge anyone without all the facts and even then, well, you just can’t judge and that in order to be loved, you need to love yourself
first. I know how this is done in my dreams, reality will be the test.

I visualize our life together in the sun, playing in the park, free. I don’t often see the snow or feel the cold. Though, I’d like to think I can dress for it if it arrives.

I see the three of us, always warm, cozy and sheltered from the winds of the sub-arctic climate we live in. Life here has a harshness, if you let it, if you’re unprepared, if you don’t plan ahead, if you think you can control or change the weather, but if you accept it, for what it is, it has a way of being a whole lot less fierce, sometimes, even comfortable. Yes, it can be that simple.

Amber Henry
Yellowknife, Canada

 ”Embracing a Wilder Side of Oneself”

Medium: graphite, watercolour & a digital splash. An original artwork by Lem.

Lem von Brünken
Munich, Germany

Say it with Kindness

There are some days, as I maneuver through Addis Ababa, I wish I had my camera with me.  A beautiful girl of about 12 years old tentatively approached me, asking for money to buy bread.  This is different from the norm in that there’s usually an “express lane” in any foreigners’ direction in attempts to ask for money/bread/food etc.  But as sweet as her face was, putting a camera in a stranger’s face is not my style.  I know some cultures believe that having your photo taken can steal a person’s soul.  And I think by being a happy snapping foreigner here, I could yield that power over a subject.  I bought her oranges instead and drove away before I could sense any inclination of thankfulness (or lack of) on her part.  I really just wanted to be kind for kindness’ sake.  And that’s how I want to continue 2012. With kindness.  And I don’t want to do it because Oprah or the G-O-D folks say I should.  I want to do it because my soul needs to.  And I don’t mean my glorygloryhallelujah “soul” but that inner-me that’s beginning to speak louder and louder – she’s happy, she’s tearful, she’s joyful, she’s angry – and she’s even a little bit scary because who knows what she’ll be feeling from one minute to the next.  But I want to listen to Her.

As much as I know there will be bigger buildings and more availability (and hopefully ballet lessons for my 4 year old) in Addis, many things will stay the same.  Often when you see so many people in need, it’s difficult to know where to begin.  Despite the fact there are dozens upon dozens of NGOs, there is little access for those who live here to be able to do some good on a grander scale.  So I’ll start with me.  I want to give freely and without question as to who might be more deserving.  Aren’t we all deserving? I’m going to keep my Kindness Box stocked in the back of my car and when I’m approached (or even better – when I’m NOT approached), I’ll give clothes and toys and peanut butter freely to those who obviously have so little.  Maybe the clothes won’t fit just right but it’s for them to decide what to do with them.  They can sell them for that night’s dinner and have their little ones go to bed with full tummies.  There is sadness and joy in that for me.  My soul will be fed as well.

There is beauty in Ethiopia.  And it’s not all about what people DON’T have.  There are smiling faces upon more glowing smiling faces.  There is love and peace and family (and even greenery!).  I would like to think that by showing Kindness in the place I now call home, where my daughters were born and are loved by so many that I can give on a small scale and help another family find there way as well.  One orange/t-shirt/jar of peanut butter at a time.  When you start plotting Kindness, there seems endless ways of surprising people – 20 birr hidden inside some bread! A new shawl for a mama to carry her baby! It’s going to be exciting.  And no, it won’t be selfless acts of giving because I plan on getting something out of it as well.  I want to hear my soul sing in a way that I’ve never been open to before. That seems a little scary to me but I want to grow and change this year.  So 2012 – the year of Kindness, Soul Searching and Change.

Sara Patterson
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Experiment with Happiness

Sitting in the living room of my new apartment I see an already familiar vista… the sun setting over snow covered roofs, steel grey skies turning blue in the coming twilight, melding with the distant dome of a church. In the coming year I hope the view remains unchanged, but anticipate seeing at least one condo tower spring up somewhere west of me, increased traffic congestion (and the attendant air quality issues), and a deterioration of our cultural landscape. I only hope that the changes that our Mayor, Rob Ford, intends for Toronto are not too damaging or irreversible. My greatest wish is that someone finds a way to depose or impeach him before heʼs able to put a lasting blemish upon the face of this city. I do hope, however, that this experience will teach Torontonians to work together, speak out, and lobby for effective change at city hall. A city that is notoriously apathetic and generally spoiled, we need to learn how not to take it all for granted.

Our country managed to vote in a voice for significant change in the guise of Jack Layton, with his NDP party becoming the official opposition in a staggering leap of representative seats. I hope that somehow, despite the passing of Gentleman Jack, the party can solidify their power and keep the momentum theyʼve gained proving to be a formidable voice in Canadian politics and weakening the hold that the Conservatives have had over the past decade.

Worldwide, I think it will turn out to be a bad year to be a dictator. I believe that the “apocalypse” some people predict with the ending of the Mayan Calendar is less an end of the world than an era of great change. Weʼve already seen the beginnings in the major uprisings in the Middle East. Kim Jon Il has passed, and while it is evident that his successor is no better than he, we can hope that his tenure as ruler is fated to end before it really begins.

The internet has already begun to bring us together as a global community. It is a valuable tool not just in communication, but also in revelation. We can now see and virtually experience what life is like all around the world. Images flood our screens with a few keystrokes. What we need to do with the information that we now have access to is let it guide us morally, encourage us to raise our voices against injustice, and think more clearly about what those in other parts of the world experience. One of the clearest areas we need to focus on is the status of women, both home and abroad. Supporting the strength and generosity of women invariably leads to growth and innovation within communities.

Costume design by Jen

As for me? Iʼm experimenting with being happy where I am in life. Iʼm going to focus on living in the now with an eye to the future, but not the restlessness and dissatisfaction that comes from that comes from focusing on tomorrow not on today. I am going to judge my success by happiness and personal joy, not measuring myself on some imaginary timeline. There is no such yardstick. It is a falsehood propagated by society, and has no bearing on actual individual happiness. Some people do everything at the right time, hitting all the marks on the timeline; some people do none of it. In neither instance is one guaranteed to be happy or unhappy. Happiness is where you find it, and Iʼve decided to find it right where I am. I may never win an Oscar for Excellence in Costume Design, or find “the one” and get blissfully married, or even own my own house. I certainly didnʼt do any of those things by thirty as my twenty year old self expected. And if I happen upon any of those things any time before I shuffle off this mortal coil, Iʼm certainly not going to berate myself for not having done it sooner. Life is what happens when youʼre busy making plans. So Iʼll keep planning, but Iʼm also going to take the time to enjoy the scenery as I do.

Happy New Year.

Jennifer Bunt
Toronto, Canada

-fin-

Posted in beginnings, group compliations, inspiration | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Fancy Shmancy – Life and Vocab

Posted on January 14, 2012 by Sara

I found a fancy word this week.  And can I just tell you, I’m excited to learn something new when I’m surrounded by kid-talk (like my daughter discussing the merits of boogers or the little one asking me for the seventh time that day if I had a shower – she likes the feel of my wet hair.)  And so I give you…

Eudaimonia: a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous.

Happiness isn’t something that just is for most people.  It’s something to be decided on and maybe even fought for.  I’ve fought my brain and decided to be happy.  To me, happiness is cozy like a favourite blanket.   But I can’t wear my favourite blanket all the time.  It seems to slip off my shoulders as I chase my girls around a supermarket, as I trail behind a car whose driver obliviously straddles the dotted lines, or as I wake up for the sixth time in the early hours to feed my almost two year old and my teeth are clenched so tight I think my jaw might crack and I just can’t take IT anymore! I’ll have to continue to cozy up to happy.

Luck seems to be a big factor in being healthy when it comes to major diseases and complications.  How can brain cancer strike someone of the same age as me, but not me? How do thousands of women die in childbirth in Ethiopia, but not me? I’ve asked a friend who is a doctor here in Addis and also a father – if something were to happen, an accident for instance, which hospital would he go to? He clearly said he.didn’t.know.  To me, that’s incredibly frightening.  In Canada, you can call 911, be taken to a very reliable hospital and given the correct attention.  It’s a comfort most Canadians are unaware exists, I’m sure.  If something major were to happen here, it would be a scramble to reach friends to find out where the best/trusted/appropriate doctor is on a given day.  And then maybe it’s a mediflight out of the country to Nairobi or Dubai or Bangkok.  I’ll keep feeding my family kale chips and hiding pumpkin purees in nearly everything but mostly we’re lucky – our family is healthy.

By any measure, we are prosperous.  We can afford good food each day, we can have hot showers, we have a house full of furniture and toys and gadgets, we have two cars, we have clothes and shoes, etc.  My husband works extremely hard at two businesses for us to be able to afford all these things.  And yet, I want something for myself.  My own prosperity – my name on a bank account with money I’ve earned.  Now that my girls are almost 2 and 4, it feels like this is the year for me.  The fire is lit and I want to burn.

Eudaimonia – the contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous.  It’s a lovely ideal.  But what if there’s an eudaimonia-fail? What if on a given day I’ve got 2 out of 3? Or maybe 1 out of 3? Or what if I’m not even contented? Rather it’s just a perpetual ‘state’ I’m in.  Well, from what I can tell, I just carry on.  Cause that’s what we do.  At least my vocabulary has improved.

Posted in inspiration, trying | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Jeepers Creepers, where’d ya get those peepers?

Posted on January 9, 2012 by Lem

It all starts with the eye lashes. The cover girl in the ad of the new mascara that advertises a “x00% boost in volume” looks stunning. But in the bottom right corner of the page there’s a barely readable 5pt white-on-grey-background sentence: “Lashes are digitally enhanced.” All of a sudden the stunning looks of the model aren’t so stunning at all. They’re fake.

Illusions with Photoshop are nothing new in advertising. I’ve transplanted heads, feet, hands and nails, elongated bodies, smoothed skin, erased bags under eyes, mirrored eyebrows and eyes for the sake of symmetry, done numerous boob jobs without ever entering med school, enhanced, decreased and polished many body parts in my short life as a designer. The mighty sword of Photoshop is quickly drawn when there’s a wrinkle too much. What’s new is that the perception of those mask-like illusions are challenged in public.

In 2009, France passed a law that, while it doesn’t forbid the use of digitally manipulated pictures in advertising, it states that they clearly have to be marked as being altered. Quite a few studies about the influence of those flawless images on the self-esteem of consumers exist, and they don’t draw positive conclusions. Discussions on blogs and forums broach the issue of “real” and “fake” images. Cover photos of CDs, especially if the singer’s a little older, betray the reality. When my sister was working on a comeback album of an aged German pop singer whose golden time was back in the 80s, the featured artwork was so polished that she admitted it bearing no resemblance at all to the singer. She could barely recognize her. “Don’t trust pictures,” I told her, “there’s a tool for every asperity of the human body in Photoshop.”

On the other hand, there’s the world of fashion photography, that rarely aspires to show the reality. They use camera angles and lighting to distort or to show unusual scenes we never might have seen that way. Who knows, the model may have had a stomach cramp for repeatedly holding an awkward pose that – in the finished picture and enhanced by angle and light – looks stunning and gives the impression of a wasp waist. General prejudice against the digital altering of pictures might hinder the creative process of a photographer, who might be falsely accused of retouching a bit too much and conveying harmful messages to younger girls.

The questions that I’ve been asking myself these days is: how can we achieve a balance between the world of advertising and the world of art? How can we still enjoy the master pieces of talented photographers or photo manipulators while keeping our self-esteem and self-perception intact when viewing an ad? Is it good enough to just mark an image of a model with flawless skin as “digitally enhanced” or does the problem lie elsewhere? Or is all this talk about the digital image altering just an old problem wrapped in a new paper (during Rubens’ times, I’m pretty sure I would have seen myself as too flat chested and thus not desirable)? And personally, I ask myself where the responsibility of the designer, the photographer and the editor comes into the equation? Would it hurt to show a little bit more realism in advertising, thus creating a wider gap between art and ads and making them easier to distinguish? Would a mascara really sell worse if the true result of the application would be shown?

You be the judge, ladies. I’m looking forward to hear your thoughts on this topic.

Posted in body, women | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

Of Pashmak, Pomegranate & Unplugging.

Posted on January 3, 2012 by Tink

Forgive the brevity of this post, I’ve been unplugged. In fact this post is a day late due to the fact that I’ve been offline and quite simply forgot. But sitting up in bed reading tonight, for some reason I looked for today’s date and a penny dropped. So, just for an hour or so I’m plugging back in.

It has taken – let’s be honest it’s still taking – a considerable amount of self-discipline to unplug. And not just from technology. It’s taking discipline to temporarily disconnect from the never-ending, bottomless, list of should-dos.

Last Wednesday, after the flurry of Christmas entertaining was out of the way, I sat on the sunny verandah in my pjs with half a pomegranate for breakfast. Instead of whipping it into a bowl and consuming it quickly while focussing my attention on the day ahead, I chose to focus on the very simple joy of slowly eating a beautiful piece of fruit seed by seed. However as I peeled back the pith to reveal each jewel-like pip in turn, I found myself having to quell the disapproving and ever so slightly anxious voice of my inner critic which said “Seriously? You think you can do this? You know there is filing to be filed, notes to be noted, blog posts to posted!”

Listening, I paused, popped a deliciously tart pomegranate pip into my mouth and replied ‘Thank you, I’m truly grateful for your presence and concern, but actually I’m on holiday. And I think you should be to.” To which my inner-critic responded with a noise sounding a lot like ‘Harrumph’. But she must have listened because she’s been very quiet these past few days…

The following day, I found myself sitting in another sunny spot, this time for lunch with with friends and pashmak. Of Polish descent, the lovely Stefania had made a glorious Polish dessert (basically a strawberry shortcake) and served each piece with flourish of Persian spun-sugar, otherwise known as pashmak. It was delicious and ever-so-slightly magical.

Perhaps my inner-critic exists in a parallel dimension. I imagine sometimes that she also has a favourite wide-brimmed green hat and a passion for connecting the dots. Right now, I hope she is also enjoying some time unplugged from me. And that she too is sitting in a series of sunny spots slowly savouring pomegranate and pashmak.

Unplugged?… I’d love to hear of your experience!

 

 

 

Posted in food, holidays | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

What I Know For Sure

Posted on December 28, 2011 by JoAnna

A week ago I spoke to my mother. It was a typical long-distance conversation where we moved from the mundane (What did you have for dinner?) to the pressing (How long will you stay in Egypt?) and ending on the profound. You know, profound being the stuff we push deep down and gloss over: things about health, love, life and death. The things we sometimes can’t bear to look at that the end of the year has a habit of unearthing and slapping us across the face with. As we touched upon a series of delicate issues my mother paused – as if momentarily accessing her inner demons – and asked: “Given everything that’s happened this year, what do you know for sure?”

Right. Momentarily speechless, I clicked my tongue a couple of times. What do I know for sure? It’s a powerful question when you’re prepared for it, but it becomes far more daunting when you’re loopy on your third glass of Bordeaux and slightly distracted by Skype’s attempts to drop your call. I paused for a long time, willing for an incredibly insightful response to roll off my chocolate stained tongue, but nothing would come. As always, my mother waited patiently on the other end of the line, but after a good minute I had to concede: “Good question. I don’t know. Let me get back to you.”

Days passed, and despite trying to forget my mother’s question I’ve found myself obsessing over it instead. What do I know for sure? The query tore a hole into the soft flesh of my brain and, like Poe’s tell-tale heart, throbbed relentlessly under the surface. In an effort to ease my racing mind I set out to find an answer: in music, on gray and soggy walks around the capital, while easing into Trikonasana, between Jaime Oliver’s monologues on the Naked Chef. Nothing. No luck. It was nowhere to be found…that is, until last night.

Last night I picked up a book I haven’t looked at in over a decade, something I read in my late teens that I rediscovered on my yogi’s bookshelf via an unplanned visit to her apartment a few weeks back. The title is Women Who Run With the Wolves and it’s a commentary on the inner lives of women and how through revisiting and keeping alive folkloric tales and age-old knowledge, women can – and should find ways to – reclaim their lost wisdom and power. As I turned the pages, I found myself lost in the more academic paragraphs (especially under the duress of ample Carmènere) while other passages piqued my interest and caused my heart to race. There was one paragraph I came across in particular that, days later, I can’t quite let go of, which goes like this:

“Without [comprehension of the nature of the Wild Woman] women are without ears to hear her soultalk or to register the chiming of their own inner rhythms. Without her, women’s inner eyes are closed by some shadowy hand, and large parts of their days are spent in a semi-paralyzing ennui or else wishful thinking. Without her, women lose the sureness of their soul-footing. Without her, they forget why they’re here, they hold on when they would best hold out. Without her they take too much or too little or nothing at all. Without her they are silent when they are in fact on fire.”

I continued to read the rest of the chapter, and then a good third of the book because I was unable to put it down. As I devoured page after page a response to my mother began to materialize that felt very real, one that is most probably rooted in a barn-raising, primal female idiom, but that moves beyond gender stereotyping and can speak to all of us nonetheless. So in response to my mother’s endearing query of what do you know for sure, I offer her this:

The all-intuitive "Om" cards.

I know for sure that life can be beautiful, tragic and bittersweet. It can be rightfully fair and so completely unjust, and despite this organized chaos we always have the ability to make a choice. We can say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. We can say ‘no’ twice. We can say ‘yes’ and then ‘no’. Nothing is fixed because even if we start going down a path we don’t like, we can always choose differently and get the hell out of Dodge.

I know that we are gifted with emotive responses, things like insight, faith, intuition, resolution and knowing. Feelings that may, or may not, turn our lowest points into Hollywood endings, but at least lend grace to those dark nights of the soul. I also know that we often overlook these gifts and give up our power. We put out the flame that resides in our hearts and stomp on the ashes until they melt into the earth. We do this because we’ve been brought up to believe life should be lived a certain way and that shades of grey don’t exist. We do it because someone told us we needed to be like everyone else. We do it because we’ve let others pin us to a storyboard that isn’t ours and that doesn’t ring true.

We do it because we’re afraid.

Well to hell with the fear, because what I know for sure is that people – your mother, your father, your siblings, your friends and everyone else in between – will piss us off. It’s a given. They will disappoint us and let us down. They will forget about how we feel or not even care to begin with. People will judge us and berate us. A few will look for ways to purposefully harm us, and a handful will find ways to shift their emotional baggage onto our already overflowing plates. People will do this because they are in their own heads and up their own asses. They may be completely out to lunch or possibly under someone else’s boot, and because of that they will behave in ways that shock you, stun you, and possibly drive you mad. This sucks. But while we don’t have to like it, we do need to find ways to live with it.

What I’m beginning to know is that there’s nothing wrong in feigning utter boredom when others weigh in on our deeply personal choices. It’s perfectly OK to brush off snide remarks and emotional manipulation because dwelling on it keeps us on the road to nowhere and, as a friend of mine once told me, we just don’t have that kind of time.

I know for sure that change is coming, for all of us, and it will arrive whether we’ve rolled out the red carpet for it or not. I know the importance of throwing in the towel when it’s time to leave, because no one else will make that decision for us; and I am learning when to put on the gloves and fight: especially when there’s something worth salvaging, when there’s nothing left to lose and because no one puts baby in the corner.

I’ve come to know the importance of stroking our own egos and finding ways to mend our blasted hearts. Not because it’s the noble thing, the brave thing, or the right thing to do, but because it’s the only thing to do and our lives depend on it.

What I also know for sure is that it’s worth digging deep, way deep, beyond the superficial exterior and past the soft fleshy gunk. Into the shadows that lurk behind every corner and through the cobweb-like film that has latched itself onto the cords of your heart. What I know is that it’s very possible you’ll get lost and should you hit rock bottom in a place where the dark is so black you can’t recall what the light looks like, well that’s when you need to hold fast. You’ll need to remember what you’re there for, which is for respite, and to learn and forgive. You’re there to let go. You’re there to do the heavy lifting, because it’s a waste of time not to, and because that’s what I do, that’s what you do, that’s what we do.

I now know why it’s so very important to identify that wild and mischievous nature inside of you. That essence that makes the good great, the bad not so bad, and the downright horrible…well, somehow livable. I know why it’s necessary to be ‘on the floor’, since eating dirt teaches you how to get up, dust yourself off and set yourself on fire, with your passions, truths, desires and the things your heart ache for. It helps us claim responsibility for living life according to our own rules: even in the throes of tyranny and uncertainty, and particularly in the face of people who would rather see us fall than rise.

What I know for sure is the importance of lighting our own spark and not faltering if we find ourselves engulfed in flames as we begin our ascent. If the fire begins to consume us we need to find a way to relax into it. Enjoy it. Revel in it and give into the utter insanity of it. Don’t think for one second that smoldering ashes caught alight and as the phoenix materialized she turned to the heavens and said, “Please lower the heat, it’s too warm.” No way. Instead she cried, “Is that all you’ve got? Turn it up!” and proceeded to rise higher, a searing ball of flames that roared as she drew strength from that spark within.

I’m telling you, what I know for sure is that there isn’t enough time to do anything but get over it, give it up, get a move on and – for your sake and mine – light your goddamned fire.

Burn.

Happy New Year, let’s make it a good one.

Posted in beginnings, change the world, community, faith, global, relationships, women | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments