on the passing of my teacher

I woke up to news that my yoga teacher passed away last night.

I’ve practiced yoga for 20+ years and for over a decade made annual trips to India to practice with my teacher. I would wake at 4:30am to gather in the vestibule with the other students watching those already practicing surf the wave of the asanas while we waited to be called in. The combined breath of that many practitioners mimicked the sound of waves. These hushed moments were weighty. We would be anxious to miss our name (more typically referenced by our country “Canada, you come”), humbled when he passed our turn for another student for reasons only he would know (‘No, not you, you wait’), and laughing when he laughed (‘No, the other Canada, the short Canada’).

My teacher was boundaried, kind, disciplined, stern, playful, and humble. He held space for hundreds of practitioners and he held a sense of self when thrust into the spotlight. I learned from him and through his teaching. Those years and that practice shaped me.

I figured I would return to the shala in India when the kids were older and my time became more my own. I figured my teacher would laugh and call me “bad lady” for my prolonged absence and my stiff body. I figured I had time to return. I figured it might be a little bit different but mostly the same and I see now that I was naive, or capricious, or arrogant. You can’t step in the same river twice, I know this. I know life changes, it moves on, and I can struggle with that. Change is hard.

In therapy we might talk about my activated parts, how a young child part was awakened and re-activated by this unwanted change. Or we might talk about navigating the emotional murkiness of grief or regret. Or how I support my tolerance for these sticky feelings and what tools I have in place to support myself through them. Or navigating the dichotomy between intentions and reality. My response to this news is informed by my unique life experiences and I’m offered a chance to stretch into a different response.

I will return to India but it will be different and different is something I find difficult. It’s my teacher’s final lesson.

on covert misogyny

I researched books on puberty for my 10 year old daughter extensively before before buying the most well-reviewed book. Not one of the reviews I read asked ‘what heteronormative, misogynistic hellscape is this?’ so I’m asking it for you.

The book I bought covered menstruation, breasts, pubic hair, crushes and sex, all as expected, but of those topics, the first chapter was ‘Sex’ and the first subheading, with diagrams, in that first chapter - in a book about puberty for girls - was the ‘the male sex organs’. Excuse me?!?

Momentarily ignoring whether sex is actually the *most* important of those topics to a pre-teen child, in what fucking world is the first, and presumably most important, part of sex the penis? My 10 year old may not even like penises; we don’t know, but we are *definitely* setting an expectation about what sex is and what takes priority.

From my sample size of one, body changes and menstruation seem to be the most enticing topics. I would have loved if these held higher priority than the penis and heterosexual sex but, even maintaining the author’s priorities ,why so basic?

I mean, sure, keep sex as Priority One but talk about the vulva, the amazing clitoris, normalise masturbation and getting to know your own body, normalise female pleasure to our pre-teens so that when they do have sex, mutual pleasure is a perfectly normal expectation. Maybe that comes later in the book, I don’t care, the implicit messaging was a hard no from the contents page.

I know I can be overly political but this matters. I’m a therapist who works with women, I have shelves of books like ‘She Comes First’ and ‘Cliterate’, I have endless conversations about sexual pleasure and the interplay of social norms and expectations that emerge in our relationships and sexual expression. It matters and I will be damned if the most important thing my daughter learns about puberty, sex, and relationship expectations - above her anatomy, above her changing body, above knowing her own body and what may feel good to it - is the priority of the penis in the act of sex. Do better.

on the mind

My 20+ year long relationship with yoga and pranayama (breathwork) is showing up more and more often in session.   This makes sense.  My teacher used to say that you practice for 10 years and then maybe you teach and that’s what I did.  Maybe the psychotherapy equivalent of this is to practice for 20 years and then maybe integrate into the sacred work of therapy.

Before kids, I spent several months each year in a small town in India practicing with my teacher from 4:30-6:30am and then the rest of the day was my own.  I used to call it my version of summer camp. Some days I’d occupy my day by walking to the Hare Krishna temple because they had the best bookstore and there I bought one of the best books on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali I’ve ever found.

If you don’t yet know the Yoga Sutras, the foundational text of yoga, I really want to share the second sutra because it’s beautiful and comforting and beautiful.  It says “Yoga is restraining the mind-stuff (Chitta) from taking various forms (Vrittis)”.  The description from Raja Yoga (the best translation I’ve seen) says “the real person is behind the mind; the mind is the instrument in his hands.. It is only when you stand behind the mind that it becomes intelligent…thus you understand what is meant by Chitta. It is the mind-stuff, and Vrittis are the waves and ripples rising in it when external causes impinge on it.  These Vrittis are our universe”.

Stand behind the mind to become truly intelligent - gorgeous, right?   The sun is shining, the snow is glistening, I have time alone to think, my dog paws me for attention, I am warm with my blanket…when I stand behind the waves and ripples of thought, when I get behind my own mind, when I move beyond interpretation to actual experience, it is a glorious moment.

On the Winter Solstice

Congratulations friends, we made it through the darkest days, you’re about to weather the longest night, and every day after will be incrementally lighter.   The change to darkness happened so slowly, we barely noticed the shift (though we did notice the darkness) so too will be the shift to light.   Change happens slowly, often without registering, but it happens nonetheless.  If you’re in the middle of something, keep going, light follows dark.

In the meantime, light candles and notice how one is lovely but the combined efforts of several creates light; get outside and lift your face to the sky at some point today; write down the darkest things and burn them;  write down the brightest things and hold that paper close for the next few days; cocoon without judging; wrap yourself in comforts and watch for the imperceptible signs of change - they’re there.  Happy Solstice, all.

on having an nervous system

During a recent catchup with a friend I commented that my nervous system was super activated in a ‘take flight NOW’ kind of way and concluded with a dismissive ‘who knows what’s going on’. My friend listed the things I’d shared and I heard through her eyes that it was a lot. Neither good nor bad a lot, just…a lot. Super activating for my sweet nervous system just trucking along doing their best.

I wondered afterwards why knowing my nervous system was tightly strung wasn’t enough to check in and do something different. These are conversations I have with people (clients, friends, children, parents in the pick up line) every day. Do we have to know the reasons for overwhelm or is noticing feeling overwhelmed on its own enough? Can we pay attention to our state of being and take rest when needed, even without understanding it at a cognitive level? Does the reason for needing a break need to be ‘valid’ or can it just be a thing that’s needed in that moment?

I was speaking to my friend on Thanksgiving weekend after a tough week and on a day of horrific world news. My nervous system was clocking each and every stressor, even if my mind hadn’t catalogued them yet. My nervous system knew there was a lot going on and that it needed soothing - and it was right.

Our nervous systems are more intuitive, insightful, and informed than our intellect can keep up with sometimes. Consider taking cues from how you’re feeling instead of waiting for your cognition to catch up to offer approval. Play with practicing letting the noticing of internal state be enough to change direction, take rest, pause, or deep dive into self-care. Be gentle with yourself even if you don’t know why you need to be (yet).

on lessons from nature

Oh boy. If you’re new to me then you’re in for a treat because the fish are running in my part of the world and I’m about to wax evangelically about all things migrating fish!

Watching the fish make their way up stream each Spring and Fall is a decades-long obsession. I wait for the first sign of movement and, once they’re moving, I sit and I watch and I think.

I think about these fish. How hard they work to move upstream. How dedicated they are to the next generation. How hard they work to provide a nesting place for their offspring. I think about the fact that these are female fish and I identify with them.

I watch how they rest when necessary. How they forge ahead and get pushed back. How they accept backsliding without judgement (I may be imagining this part, I don't know what goes on in a fish’s brain). How they accept their fate, accept lost ground, but don’t fester over it. Instead they rest, renew their strength, and forge ahead when they’re ready. One foot (fin?) after another.

I imagine they don’t engage in negative self-talk about their progress or how their friend made it further or how frustrated they are with this whole experience. I imagine they just do. And I take so much inspiration from them.

If you live near the Bronte Creek, they’re currently at Bronte Park, probably making their way to Lowville Park. If you’re able, sit and watch and be inspired.

on consultations

You may have noticed that I encourage prospective clients to have a consultation before working together, I thought it might be useful to share what these talks look like. I’ll set the caveat that I can only speak for my way of doing things, my colleagues may differ in their process.

Consultations are a chance to assess fit on my end (does the work you would like to do fall within my scope of practice?) and to assess comfort on your end. The latter is pivotal to your experience.

When I ask about past experience in therapy, those with negative experiences almost always reference a lack of comfort with the therapist.This is not necessarily personal, it’s about relationship and alignment and it is one of the most transformational components of psychotherapy. If you’re not feeling it, I can tell you’re not feeling it and the work can be…clunky. I want to do good work and I want you to experience the therapeutic gains you are seeking.

When beginning a consultation, I set the expectation that clients do not make an appointment at the end of our call. Instead, I ask that we end our conversation and people sit with their intuition. If they feel that I am the right person to talk to, I invite them to reach out to make an appointment. No pressure.

While some people ask about therapeutic modality, what a typical session might look like, or clarify availability and cost; the overwhelming majority simply want to experience what it is like to speak with me. This is a fantastic goal and I’m happy to have these conversations. If, after speaking, I don't think I’m the right fit for you, I’ll offer a referral. If you don’t think I’m the right fit for you I encourage you to continue your search.

Therapy can be a transformative experience. Your comfort sharing your story is an integral, if not the most important, part of that experience. Ask for consultations, listen to your intuition, and keep talking until you find your fit.

on the equinox

A PSA from your therapist-friend on the Fall Equinox: let yourself be tired, let yourself be tough to motivate, let yourself cocoon.

This is a day of equanimity, of equal balance between night and day. Your senses are aware of the lengthening of nights and the shortening of days, even if your consciousness hadn’t caught up yet. What provided balance through the sun-drenched energy of the summer months might not provide balance during the cold dormancy of winter. This is ok. It is ok to allow yourself to be a living creature following the cycles of the seasons.

Your body knows the nights are growing longer, the days shorter and colder, and it knows this is the time to turn in, find quiet, and rest. Allow yourself to honour this cycle.

Know that light follows dark and that the winter freeze sets the soil for the spring rebirth. Surround yourself with comforts, nourish your body and your mind, access community (social, virtual, humans, pets…it all counts), stay warm and prepare yourself for your next season.

on self-acceptance

The Chicks

I attended a concert recently where I didn’t know the band’s music but I knew their story so, instead of singing along to the music, I thought about their journey.  I thought about the way a woman stating her mind can end in professional devastation,  about the redemption story of rising from divorce, and about the power of sisterhood supporting each other through challenge.

The person I was with had a completely different experience, they just enjoyed the music.

In my work, I often have a chance to speak with the deep thinkers, the neurodivergent, the feel-everything-people, the connectors. Many come from a background where ‘highly sensitive’ was dismissed as ‘too sensitive’ and big thinking philosophical meandering were ‘different-bad’ not ‘different-neutral’.

There is power in reclaiming our hidden parts with affection.  There is comfort in acknowledging and holding confidence in our differences.  There is acceptance in knowing that noticing all the things is only possible because of one’s deep sensitivity.

This is what therapy is.  It is noticing the scripts we carry, deciding what is outdated or no longer serving us, and updating those scripts to own our glorious, unique, different, sometimes-messy ways of inhabiting our world.

on yoga

Yesterday I had yet another person tell me that they can’t do yoga because they’re not flexible. In over 20 years of practicing and teaching yoga, this is by far the most common reason I hear for avoiding the mat.

If you don't practice yoga because you don’t like it, carry on, that’s an amazing reason to not do something; but not doing it because you’re not flexible is a bit like a novice weight lifter saying they can’t lift weights because they aren’t strong enough. Just as we know that it takes practice to build strength, it takes practice to build flexibility. But more importantly, it doesn’t matter. The emphasis on flexibility misses the point.

The point is to support a calm, present mind by focusing on posture, breath, and gaze. It’s moving meditation for those of us who say we can’t meditate (i.e.: most of us). When your attention is focused on holding a pose, breathing evenly, and directing your gaze it’s hard to think about that irritating thing that happened today or that thing happening tomorrow. And, if you do slip and find yourself thinking (again: most of us) there is a plan to pull your mind back to the moment: focus on your breath, your gaze, the pose.

So, instead of thinking about yoga as the practice of touching your toes, think about yoga as a practice of moving your body, regulating your breathing, and calming your mind. That’s it. As long as you’re doing that, you’re doing yoga.