If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you may have noticed that I haven’t been writing as frequently this year. Partly, I think it’s because I’ve been busier, and partly it’s because I haven’t fully recovered from losing Michael. I’m not very good at vulnerability. I don’t share emotions easily, particularly grief. These days I don’t even feel emotions easily.

Every new year, after having had a rest (or at least a change) over the holidays, I promise myself that this year will be different. This year I will finish one of my book projects, I’ll spend less time online, I’ll eat better, practice more, get back in shape, improve my French, and watch less television. And every year, predictably, I go down in flames, usually by about February.

If you have been practicing yoga without understanding your dosha type, you’re missing out on a key element.

You see, your dosha serves as the blueprint for your health. Learning what your dosha is can help you understand and get a clearer idea of your inherent strengths and weaknesses. It can help you know what you should do to improve yourself, too.

Spring is here, and I feel like a bear coming out of hibernation. I’ve been plugging away at a book and a video project, both of which seem to be progressing (glacially). So much to learn! We all go through energetic cycles, and as the seasons change our bodies seem to crave different things. Every culture, every religion, and every wellness tradition recognizes that “to every thing, there is a season, and a time to every purpose.” Spring is a time of new beginnings and projects, clearing out the old and stale, and getting moving again.

The last few weeks I’ve been hyper-aware of how beautiful the natural world around me is. Everything is green and luscious, the flowers are blooming and the scent of lilacs when I’m riding my bike along local roads fills me with delight. We’ve had visits from incredible birds including orioles, Eastern blue-birds and indigo buntings. We’ve been dining on fresh asparagus and my rhubarb is almost ready to harvest.

A few weeks ago I was trying to explain my particular slant on yoga to a friend, and made the comment that I’m not religious. She was surprised by this because I often talk about Buddhism in my posts, and her understanding was that Buddhism is a religion. So I thought if she finds that confusing no doubt other people do as well.

My Dad observed recently that when he turned fifty, some part of his body was always aching, and now that he’s eighty, several things are aching at the same time—so now it’s a matter of tending to what hurts the worst. As I age, I appreciate more and more that the body has a mind of its own, and we can’t control what happens a good deal of the time. So where does that leave us?

When I have to fill in application forms: driving licence, passport, medical questionnaires, etc. I hesitate when I come to the occupation section. What do I put down first? Actor or Yoga Teacher? During times that I’m auditioning, or working on contract as an actor, then I have no hesitation writing in Actor. With the opening of this New Year my acting career has slipped behind a cloud, but my yoga business is booming as I gather more classes into my weekly schedule.

Kate shared this piece of writing with me as part of the Embodying Ethics course, and because I am deeply interested in First Nations issues I asked if I could share it with you. She asks some really important questions. Enjoy, Elaine

Kate shared this piece of writing with me as part of the Embodying Ethics course, and because I am deeply interested in First Nations issues I asked if I could share it with you. She asks some really important questions.

As a lover of stories and fiction, I was attracted to yoga as much by its rich tapestry of legends and metaphorical figures as by the physical experience of attending classes. Although my body loved it from the very first class (sometime in the 80’s…yikes!) I was even more intrigued when I was introduced to the yoga sutras for the very first time.

We often come to yoga or meditation because we’re looking for a way to be more peaceful, more patient, or more _____ (insert area of particular lack here). We’re hoping that by starting another self-improvement project we can placate that insistent interior voice that is always letting us know that we’re not enough.

Do you remember how to play? Now that the sun has finally reappeared and school is finishing up for the kids, it’s time to reconnect with wonder and aimlessness. As I’ve been out riding my bike the last few weeks, I’ve been marvelling at how much fun it is to go places without a purpose, other than to appreciate how beautiful everything looks and smells at this time of year.

September was a stressful month. Having decided in May to give up my last, tiny occupational therapy contract and devote myself to yoga full time, I looked forward to the fall term with great anticipation. I signed up for a professional development course to brush up on some skills and to figure out what priorities to set in this new and scary world of being totally self-employed. Labour Day weekend came and went and—crickets.

I remember going to the Schomberg Community Fair when I was about eight years old and being absolutely riveted by the sight of the Brownies marching in the parade. I was overcome instantly with the desire to join up. They had uniforms! They had a sense of purpose (I thought) and they were in the parade, not watching from the sidelines like me. Belonging was expensive, but my parents found a way.

As someone who studied biology and graduated in the traditional medical system, I’ve always been fascinated by the model of the body that the ancient yogis came up with. They didn’t have X-rays or MRI’s or even microscopes. They practiced meditation and methods of breathing and body postures, and based entirely on what they could feel they came up with ideas about how the body functions.

Originally written for Writing From The Centre on Dec 9, 2013

I had planned an entirely different topic for today’s blog, but a late-breaking development came to my attention (a friend writing a book on said topic and promise of an interview), so I scratched my head and reflected on how many times I’ve been to the chiropractor this month, (as head-scratching irritates the kink in the left side of my neck). I decided I would start writing the first in a series of posts about ergonomics for writers.

Do we drive our habits, or do they drive us?

Over the holidays I spent a lot of time purging and digging out from under piles of paper and abandoned blog posts. One treasure I came across was a battered copy of Mary Oliver’s “Summer Day,” and another was an old essay by Adolf Meyer that I’ve never been able to throw out.

Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.