Enhancing and Dancing with Life!

I am incredibly abundant. Even just thinking about ABUNDANCE....the word itself....oh, I could just drape myself in a magical coat of sparkling gold caramel and lick myself invisible!

I feel incredibly fortunate to be the kind of person who appreciates SIMPLE PLEASURES. I think I must give a shout-out to my mom for that. Dad too. They taught me to be happy with 'homemade,' self-learning, the gifts of shared time, and craftiness. I could make an endless list, so instead I will just bathe in the ecstacy of GRATITUDE.

Six years ago I wrote my personal manifesto: I AM AN ARTIST.

It was based on the life I had created as a single, independent, young woman living in the big Canadian city of TORONTO. After being 'stolen by the circus' and finishing university to join a black light theatre company in the 'big city,' my life changed - pardon the pun - dramatically! I was suddenly thrust into the hectic, energetic, pulsating gyrations of this multicultural, artsy, sportsy, diverse, crowded, honking universe. I became friends with people I had only imagined: funky artists, actors, homeless guys on the street, creative entrepreneurs, immigrants, clowns, musicians, poets, people from all walks of life. It was a whirlwind that took me a year of adjusting, but once I had been 'climatized,' I was hooked. My LIFE had me intoxicated every day and I beamed with the magic of living my dreams. I could just barely pay my rent, but it didn't matter...there were so many other splendorous things around me to FILL ME UP.

Today, my ideals and visions are the same, though my outward circumstances are different: I moved into the beau's 1-bedroom condo (that my sister and I sarcastically refer to as 'the Communist Compound')....with his cable and remote controls, dishwasher, stereo system, his own laundry machines, matching dish sets and furniture...and before the baby, we bought a car (all the trimmings of a proud, landed immigrant's new life.) It has been a BIG adjustment for me and one that I fought against for 2 years...rebelled so far against in fact that at one point I moved out, back to the west end, to a beloved cosy apartment, in my beloved High Park neighbourhood.
My apartment, however, had its drawbacks. And when the baby was in motion, the condo started making a lot more sense, with a lot less headaches. Funnily enough, after having the baby, the Communist Compound suddenly morphed into its alter-ego....that I lovingly have referred to as 'the Bulgarian Villa.' My whole world just opened up with my 'little L' and Mr. Rogers Neighbourhood came knocking on my door. In fact, this place that I thought was devoid of all creative vibrancy turned out to be my Mecca of the Arts! We are now spectacularly friends with a famous Russian clown who performs in an international show that actually made me fall in love with and pursue clowning 11 years ago!! And to my disbelief, it turned out that he was living here the whole time, on the 20th floor. How's that for abundance!

And just at the right time.

Now that I am a momma, I must admit that I do fall into a little bit of scarcity thinking. While on mat leave from the theatre, I have been pondering my future... which is inextricably linked with my baby's future. I think about his security now. But honestly, it isn't just that. It is also where I see myself...where I want to be...which leads to the positive priorities.

What I'm talking about is the fact that I have applied for teacher's college for the Fall. I find out April 1st if I have been accepted. This has been a big leap for me. I have known myself as a teacher. It truly is Who I Am...in addition to being a Performance Artist, a creative soul, a free spirit, a writer, etc. When I was a child, my early memories of my personal play time was having an imaginary classroom. When I was introduced to the world of theatre...for a year I imagined

being an actress...and then I decided I wanted to blend my passions and be a drama teacher.

When I was 'stolen by the circus' at 23, this was most unexpected and serendipitous. It led me into a world I had not foreseen...and I have grown in ways I never imagined. But for me, art is not just an end in itself...for me, it is a means to a better end....it is an expression of the soul that beckons to be shared, to be celebrated, to be honoured, by EVERYONE. It is my creativity, I think, has literally saved my life...it has made me the happy, motivated person that I am and I want EVERYONE to know its power. To have that kind of beauty held in their hearts every day. For me, art is interlinked with community...social justice....self-growth.

So I have applied for the career that I had imagined, long ago, but with a much more interesting mindset about it. To teach with the intention to travel....to be a specialized leader in the arts....to inspire young people in a more profound, practical way with these years of truly experiencing Life...and to have more options for my passion - teach part time, supply, contract - and still be with my son and have time to nurture him as well. And to still look for my own artistic opportunities to continue on this vibrant path.

It's funny because I almost feel like I have to 'justify' this decision, not to anyone else but myself. Of course there are all the "parents" in my life (including the parent in me) who think this is a GREAT decision....but for me, there is this voice that asks, 'Am I selling out?' But at the same time, I cannot deny another voice in me that gets all fired up about education...that gets super excited about all things teaching-related; that even salivates when I pass an educational supplies store. But I have avoided the 'system' for so long, it leaves me wondering if jumping into it now will be fulfilling for me.

And yet....the one quote from this '12 Secrets' book that has stood out for me more than any other...that ignites the flame within me that cannot be extinguished is:

"A good teacher is the holiest of God's creatures. I don't think that there's another role in our culture that deserves the rank of holy except a great teacher who excites you. And the bad teachers should be made to march in chains. I don't care if you're just teaching someone to play the guitar or how to fix a car. When people love to learn and they feel it's safe to try things with someone to help them along, that's great. Anybody who stops that has murder on their souls; they've got blood on their hands." - Barbara Sher

A teacher has a profound influence....I want to be the one to excite a myriad of generations. I want to be part of a revolution....a revolution in creative, holistic, empowering and collaborative directions in education. Of course, I could continue to teach alternatively...in various creative and community environments, but another lesson I am trying to learn is to be compensated appropriately for the worth of my talents and abilities. I have a history of 'under-selling' myself....of working for peanuts because of my passion. I am starting to see that this seems to be a very common thread among women...we often do great work for others out of our sense of sacrifice and giving. I finally shook myself awake one day when I realized that a male co-worker was earning more money than me for a position lower in our company hierarchy simply because he ASKED to be paid for what he felt he was worth. And then I realized that a new employee was going to be hired...and offered MORE money than what I was making after 8 years! Doormat, no more. In my 30's, I learned that it IS important to one's self-esteem not only to be recognized and appreciated for your work, but also to be PAID what you are worth.

And the truth is, my talents are rare and wide. I am quite a specialist and deserve to be acknowledged (verbally, publicly, financially) for my years of ingenuity, dedication and pursuit of excellence. This is also why I have applied for a 'mainstream' career. I have a LOT to offer and I am a little tired of being taken advantage of by the non-profits. At least in the 'system' there is an element of equity and fairness. And I am ready to finally speak up for myself, not out of financial ambition, but out of deserving the best. That is what I have always given; that is what I am looking to receive.

And now, my TEN LIFE ENHANCERS....

- to write at least 3 children's books
- to teach internationally
- to be a specialist teaching in the arts....to be recognized by my peers....to one day teach other teachers how to teach
- to write more poetry
- to learn Modern dance
- do Nia
- to publish a book based on my adventures
- to direct a youth theatre group/ start a youth theatre school/ mentor young people
- to co-create or collaborate with an adult physical theatre group (preferably for children's theatre)
- to scrapbook/blog/create photo journals on a more regular basis
- to take risks and have 'creative outbursts' every day

I am an Artist of Abundance

This week, I could feel wild tickles through my soul, ruminating on thoughts of abundance, visioning your dream life and positive priorities….this is something I have been considering for the last 9 years of my life. In fact, in 2003, I had to finally stand up for these priorities in a very self-affirming way – against my dad. We all have our “nay-sayers”, and the mainstream people around us who live according to the North American consumerist culture, who worry about security, change, and instability. My dad has always supported my artistic pursuits, but as a dad, he has always worried about my financial independence. For myself, I never perceived having a ‘money problem.’ I was always able to pay my bills doing work that I loved, I paid back my school loans in 2 years after graduation, I paid my rent every month, and never once had to borrow money from anyone. So I finally got fed up. At 27 years of age, I wrote him my response to his worries…and without realizing it, ended up creating my own personal manifesto: “I AM AN ARTIST.” Of course, in 6 years, some things have changed, but I think this is a really good time to re-visit this poetic commitment to my SELF…I think I have more to say in another blog….but for now, I hope this brings others a little spark of light. Enjoy!


I AM AN ARTIST.

I ride my bike to work.

After FULLY experiencing, but then later ‘opting out’ of the hectic “Queen Street” lifestyle, I’ve since lived in 2 cute, cozy apartments, on quiet side streets, in the Portuguese neighbourhood of Toronto.

I’m not afraid of silence. In fact, I cultivate ‘good’ silence almost as much as I seek out laughter. And I reap the beauty of a good, hard cry.

A bright yellow bedroom with a bay window that looks out onto a strong, abundant, flowering tree, and a chubby, talkative, black & white cat to fill the windowsill represents HEAVEN to me.

I buy soy milk, free-run eggs, President’s Choice (hey, they make great cookies!), and my produce is chosen with care from Kensington Market. I use cruelty-free hygiene products and biodegradable, toxic-free dish soap that “moonlights” as a laundry detergent, glass & window cleaner, fruit & veggie cleanser, and shampoo!!

I prefer making gifts over buying, personalized cards to presents, reducing my own consumption, and helping those in need.

I avoid Nike like the Plague.

I have 2 TV channels – on a beat-up, second-hand, 1980’s TV – which are usually draped in grey fuzz, unless I stand directly in front of the ‘sucker!’

I frequent the local alternative cinema and I rent my movies at Queen Video. I prefer foreign films to blockbusters and subtitles over dubbing.

I also prefer long, candlelit dinners with my friends—complete with funky music, dessert wines, ridiculous conversations and spontaneous disco dancing—over deciphering the “who’s who” at the hottest new club!

I patronize independently-owned Thai, Indian, Vietnamese, veggie Chinese, Japanese, Middle Eastern, Greek, West Indian, and deluxe pizza places over any fast food or “family-style” restaurants. I relish in the ones with ornamental artwork, cultural music, burning incense and decent prices.

On my weekends (which aren’t always the same as everyone else’s) I like to sleep in and go on mini-adventures: ride my bike to the beach and watch the sunset, play on the swings, stumble across little art festivals, book fairs, poetry readings or theatre in the park. I like to watch squirrels in High Park – especially the ones who like to ‘sunbathe’ all sprawled out on their backs! A trip to the art supply shop is like a trip to the candy store – full of colour, taste, imagination, and unexpected surprises!

I like people who sing on the bus and I think “Poetry by the Way” was a genius invention!

One of my favourite pastimes is to hang out for hours on end at bookstores, and though I’m mildly claustrophobic, I delight in the mad claustrophobia of used bookshops. I feel as though I’m back in the womb! Then, when fate chooses to take hold of me – and a certain book just can’t leave my grip – as a fierce defender of the underdog, the independent booksellers are always my first purchase.

My weekend just doesn’t feel complete without a Flow yoga class with Anastasia, at least one freshly prepared meal, and some quality time napping on my cat’s belly. (The laundry and housecleaning can always wait til tomorrow!)

I prefer in-person dialogue to talking on the phone and e-mail over phone chat. The look in someone’s eyes is more telling than an autobiography and I think better when I write.

I believe in feeling others’ ‘energy’. I believe we are all deeply affected by the people we choose to surround ourselves with. I choose my friends wisely.

I also believe in miracles, ‘connections’ with people beyond this lifetime, fairies, angels, the power of animals’ souls, world peace and equality and opportunity for all.

I believe that we all have the power to heal the world, if we can just be brave enough to look within and be AWARE of what we discover there first.

I believe that actions speak louder than words.

I believe in myself.

And just in case I haven’t fully explained my reality, not only am I an artist, but I’m a TEACHER and I’m really good at what I do – and beyond being really good at what I do, I strongly believe in what I do and how I contribute to inspiring and uplifting those around me. People who interview me realize this within the first hour of meeting me – they crave people with my kind of enthusiasm – and I almost always get hired right on the spot.

I think it all goes back to that “energy” thing.

And finally, there’s one last thing about me that I want you to realize, Dad-ee-oh, and that’s the assertion that I TRUST THE UNIVERSE. Everything that happens in life leads us to where we need to go next, in order to complete our growth. We have a great deal of CHOICE and with choice comes power.

Like attracts like energy.

I know I sound very confident in what I’m saying and you might credit it with “the idealism of youth.” But let me ask you, no matter what age we are—if we don’t stand fast to our ideals, where does that leave us?

I have been blessed with the freedom to live this life, and I have chosen this life.

I like my energy.

And I think that makes others like it too.

Detours and Scenic Drives

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

- Oscar Wilde

I have always loved scenic drives.

On countless tours with the theatre company, we have taken many bus trips. Driving through Canada, driving through the States, taking the bullet train through Japan and trucks through Alaska, there are few things I enjoy more than being the passenger....sitting back, looking out at that big, wide, gorgeous world, and drifting...dreaming...envisioning...melting into the landscape.

That is where my dream seedlings are born.

I have no control, don't know where we are or where we're going, so I just admire the view and TRUST in the unknown.

This is why detours can be important. This is why roadblocks are sometimes necessary. And why being rejected can often be a chance to re-define your yearnings and goals.

I have felt the sting of rejection. It makes me more empathetic. This is why my life's mission is to empower others. It also strengthens Who I Am. Don't you tell me what I am and am not capable of. That is only up to me to determine.

I have proven university professors WRONG. They thought I wasn't right for a part in my only chance to perform in the big, mainstage show. That pushed me harder to be the best I could be. And they regretfully admitted defeat.

I have also endured rejections that I could not see past at the time. I have missed out on exciting principal roles to be merely another 'body' of the cast.

But I now know the importance and beauty of choral work, and I learned how to make myself stand out in the crowd. Now it is the crowd I seek....playmates to bounce off of and create magical collaborations.

I have also done the rejecting.

I have rejected certain opportunities...giving up teaching in Japan for a (failed) marriage in Brazil. Did I fail? No. Every experience leads to where you are meant to be. I believe that.

I am a student of Life. I seek the knowledge from within.

And funny enough, when it comes to my writing, I have only ever submitted my work twice. And both times my poems were accepted. You would think this would motivate me to create more, publish more, submit more....and yet I haven't. I have had so much positive feedback with my writing....I ought to be signing autographs in Chapters by now....and yet, I just keep doing blogs and email journalling. So what's up with that?

Obviously, I like being challenged.

And writing is a solo adventure, so I am only accountable to myself.

I think this is where alliances come in.

I am wealthy in alliances. I am fortunate, I am blessed. I am so grateful for my many circles of 'peeps.'

Theatre breeds alliances. Teaching is intertwined with alliances. When I know someone else is counting on me, I am THERE. But how have I been there for myself when it comes to writing?

Writing requires a personal ad. A personal ad for like-minded spirits who will whip you into shape. Well, perhaps not whip, but at least lure you with weekly scones and tea and constructive sounding-boards and deadlines and goals.

That is what this blogging group has been for me.

I feel accountable for making that weekly blog.

Last week I actually fell off the wagon....and don't think I didn't know it because my little 'Taskmaster' was in my ear, nagging me every day!

Not that I don't enjoy my blogging....but there is also that 'performance' element of me who said.....'oh, only one person made a comment on the last blog....is it really worth the effort?'

Sometimes I wonder who I am really being creative FOR. Is it for me? Or is it for that boost of positive energy when someones writes back something nice to you?

The truth is that being creative takes time and energy. And when you know there is a chance that someone might 'compensate' you with a kind word or thought, then I feel myself being rewarded.

But what are the inherent rewards?

- hearing from my soul

- taking the time to reflect and recharge (for my own sanity)

- living large....not just surviving....but living the vibrant life

- being the change i wish to see in the world

- working towards a culture of people who are more exuberantly alive....and running gloriously away from the exhausting and meaningless rat race

- aligning myself with what is sacred, true, communal and whole

I am creative because I need to be creative. I also need to be inspired. I feed off of inspiration....I am sustained by my creativity. If I really look at it, I have chosen alliances that have made me who I am today. And one very important lesson I have learned from rejection is to actively seek out the place, the people where I truly belong. It has taught me to be true to myself first...and then seek out those who appreciate and cultivate that truth. Let the journey BE. Hi-YAH!

Awe Struck!

“Thou, Nature, art my goddess;

to thy law

My services are bound.”

Nature is my guide.
Nature is my saviour.
Nature is my Muse.

Some days are just so extraordinarily beautiful.

Even more so because they contain the moments that LEAP out at you from absolute mediocrity.
I am so grateful to be a witness. The passive observer; a park bench.
Have you ever looked at those park benches with the plaques left in memory of someone? I have.
When I see those plaques, I take a moment and wonder about the honouree…and the ones left behind. I wonder what this place, this view, and what this existence would have meant to the loved one being remembered. And what they gave in return.

There is so much within us to give.
There is so much continually being offered to us to ‘refill the well,’ if only we just take a deep breath and notice.
Today I RAPTUROUSLY drank in my share.

It’s Toronto, the end of February, bitterly cold and laden with snow.
I took my baby for a walk.
Perhaps a little foolish, I thought at first, after not tuning in to the weather network to see that the windchill is out for blood today!
So I took a detour.
To my favourite spot in our stale, suburbanite complex: the park, with the distant bridge overlooking the CN Tower skyline that beams golden at dusk. My million dollar view.
Thinking of Slumdog Millionaire, my heart glowing with “Jai Ho!” putting an extra chasse in my step.
My walk abruptly ends. The sidewalk has not been shoveled. My million dollar view fades in the distance. My shoulders sink; I turn back.
And then I am struck.
Literally whipped in the face with wind that prickles my skin like cactus thorns. Damn! That’s COLD!
I look for the sun. It is sinking, but gloriously blazing in its descent.
And I notice…how it illuminates the snow.
I watch the snow racing, PULSING, gliding, charging its way across the open field like a flock of eagles.

Jai ho…Jai HO…Jai ho-o-o-o-o…Jai Ho!

It’s singing in my head, louder and brighter.
WHACK!
The wind slashes across my face…the snow leaping, prancing, EXALTING, like a chorus of Bollywood dancers.
“All my life I’ve had a choice between hate and love. I chose love. And I am here.”
The voice of AR Rahman at the Oscars rings a bell in my soul.

I feel the earth percolating; the drum of my heart pounding an Eastern rhythm, throbbing its way into this harsh Western landscape.
BOOM!
WHISH! WHACK!
BOOM BOOM!
WHISH! WHACK!
The winter tempest, so frigid, burns colour into my pale face; takes my breath away; forces my heart to pause from beating and EXCLAIM:

THIS IS LIFE!!

Love it.
Exalt it.
Claim it.
Drum it.
Dance it.
Serve it!

Jai Ho!....Jai HO!....Jai ho-o-o-o-o…Jai HO!

I don’t even really know the meaning of these lyrics, but it doesn’t matter because my soul connects with them in a way my mind never could.
That’s how I tend to live my life: follow the pounding rhythm.
It leads me to my guides. It leads me to my mentors. It leads me to the most extraordinary people and experiences beyond my powers of imagination; an ongoing list of breathtaking inspiration and light.
It is the pounding rhythm that makes me who I am.
And it leads me to those who have transformed me into more than I ever thought possible.

Jai Ho!.....Jai HO!....Jai ho-o-o-o-o-o-…Jai HO!

VOR-tex and the Taskmaster

Wisdom & inspiration from Andrea Scher:

• focus on little chunks of time, write during the cup of tea


• rituals, discipline, routine - keep your 'artist's tool' with you like a pair of glasses you cannot see without


• for one great picture there are 99,000 bad ones. you must make a mess to make a masterpiece


• give voice and humour to the gremlins


• a complete book begins with each word


• see the beauty in everyday


• see the bigger picture and the powerful intention behind what you want to create; remember your generosity of spirit; let that motivate you to take the next step

MY SECRET, PRIVATE, HIDDEN (even from myself), BARRICADED VAULT OF 'NAY-SAYERS':

Many others are already doing what you want to do. And they are established in the industry. Who cares what you have to say? Who cares about the way you see things? Other people have credentials.

Your thoughts are not original.

That project will take way too much time and energy just to figure out where to begin. And then you have to stick to it - you aren't disciplined enough for that. You will give up. You will get too busy. It will take you years, maybe decades. Oh, just the COMMITMENT alone is enough to dread the very thought of it. Time will go by, you will be older and more experienced, and you will hate what you created before. You'll want to scrap it all. And if you actually go through with all this drudgery, no one will want to buy what you're offering and you will feel worthless.

Putting your work out there and being judged will make you feel like a failure.

Creativity is a luxury; it is a spoiled gift of North American society; it is frivolous. What about all those who are suffering in the world; what about those who are starving, those who have no home, those who are sick or terribly injured? You should be doing something to help them, not waste time on this self-indulgent fantasy. The world needs you to lend a hand, not a paintbrush.

Drama? Music? Writing? What are you going to do with that? You can't make a living.

It is SO HARD for me to create without imagining the final outcome. It is SO HARD for me to create without seeing the final product being thrown around by the world, ripped apart by its big mosh pit of criticism, and left to deteriorate on the cold, damp ground. Or worse, for my work to be delicately laid out there with its beautiful perfume and illuminating colours only to be completely ignored as everyone just hurries on by.

Saboteurs, gremlins, internal Opera, inner critic, goblins, zombies, harpies - you name it, everyone has a destructor to constantly challenge their creative force. I don't really like to think about mine too much. I like to pretend like she's/he's not there (one thing I know though - it is both a she and a he.) "She" is the Taskmaster and "he" is the "Voice of Reason." Let's call him VOR-tex.

Yes, VORtex, he wants to SUCK all of my creative juices into his oppressive gravitational pull of logic, utility, practicality, rationale, left-brained 'orderliness.'

The Taskmaster - she is always looking down at me with those beady, critical eyes. She is absolutely perfect and knows that no one else can ever match her abilities, her talents, so why bother trying? She will only push me down if I try. And she is waiting for me to stumble, to create something crappy, so she can laugh at my inferiority. She can create a masterpiece in a second, and gloats with all of her credentials, awards and credits as I squirm and make excuses to avoid creating.

I don't like to think about these 'nay-sayers' because they are so NEGATIVE. I am a 'YAY-sayer'; I like to rise above the wave of doubt. I like to be happy, to enjoy life, to enjoy being me. And in my blissful goals of day to day living, I hide these two destructors in the closet. I hide them there and I try to ignore them, to pretend like they don't exist, but every time I open the closet to grab something for the day, they are there. They are there, smiling. They are there, gloating. They are there, inflating. Because the more I try to ignore them, the more powerful they become.

I don't like to acknowledge this. But with so many brave souls in this blogging group, I know I owe it to myself and everyone else to admit that these jerks exist and bring them the hell OUT of my closet!

GET OUT VOR-tex!

GET OUT TASKMASTER!

GET THE HELL OUT OF MY CLOSET YOU BASTARDS AND CLEAN UP MY DAMN APARTMENT!

VOR-tex - YOU can do the vacuuming and dusting since you are so good at 'sucking' and Taskmaster - since you are so meticulous and so perfect, you can do the organizing and mopping and wiping, and clean the stove and the cat litter and bathtub while you're at it cause I need to relax and wash your nasty grins from my memory!!!

At this moment, I am wishing I were better at visual art. I would love to draw or paint my image of these two....so I could then light them on fire! It's the Taskmaster who holds me back. Who tells me I'm not an artist - not the 'visual' kind, anyway. "Your mother is an artist. Your sister, Devon, is an artist. Even your sister, Naomi - the most 'practical' one of you - is an artist. But YOU? No, stick to theatre and writing. No point in going past your comfort zone because they'll only laugh at you anyway. What a waste of your time."

I once did a workshop with kids to address these 'nay-sayers' in our minds. We brainstormed our 'vault' thoughts, then transformed them into our 'encouragement box,' and drew pictures of our destructors, then ripped them into a hundred pieces. It was a very gratifying day. I think I need to give myself this workshop. :) But then, right away, I hear VOR-tex, "How are you ever going to find the time??" Don't you have other things you would rather do? Wouldn't you rather write or work on your scrapbook? Or memorize those lines for the show - time is ticking! Or what about those elevator quotes you've been meaning to do for 2 years now?" (he chuckles to himself.)

DAMMIT VOR-tex! I am going to MAKE the time. I DESERVE an art picnic. In fact, my beau also deserves an art picnic. When the baby is in bed, we are going to have an art picnic and you and the Taskmaster are going to zip your lips and MAKE US MARTINIS!

Yes, my dialogue with these two is a little harsh, bossy, demanding, but you know what? I don't care. I don't have to be nice to them. I don't have to be patient with them. I certainly don't intend to send them on a vacation - they don't deserve it! After all this time of oppressing me, they can handle the backlash. They don't have a sensitive bone in their body. They can handle the raw truth. And it's time for me to stop being a blind doormat and give it to them!

Take that, VOR-tex! Take THAT, Taskmaster! My sword and my shield are OUT. I am Brittany Knight after all. Time to SHINE that metal I'm made of.

afterword: i recognize here that i like to complete every blog, every story, every poem in my life with a 'happy', uplifting, motivational ending. this is funny because in artistic mediums - movies, fairy tales, songs - i am not into happy endings. i like the muck, i like the conflict, the indecision - this is why my blog is 'living in the in-between'. but yet, i have almost a 'curse of positivity' to end everything with daffodils. i want to spread joy, empower and energize myself and others. this means that my writing shuts out the 'unattractiveness of uncertainty'. i am not sure what to do about this. but i AM aware of it. any thoughts or insights would be appreciated.

Self-focus is self love

Self-focus is self love.

It nurtures one’s Being.

It feeds the soul.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY MOTHER.

Because I am part of a younger generation. The one whose parents taught us that we could achieve anything we set our minds to; that we are unique; that all we had to do was believe in ourselves, and above all, (to quote Jann Arden) “be yourself.”

My mother married her high school sweetheart when she was nineteen.
They lived together in a small town.
They made an agreement that in five years they would start having children.
Five years came and her ‘sweetheart’ wanted to break the deal.
Determined, however, to have her family, their first child was born a year later. Brittany.
Four years later, my mom’s belly grew again…and so did my dad’s ism’s: workaholism, alcoholism, anti-socialism.
Two years passed, many angry, dark nights and one affair later, and my youngest sister –“Surprise!” – was born.

There were many bright days in between, mind you. My mom was a beacon of creativity at home. She baked our birthday cakes, sewed our Halloween costumes, taught us to paint Christmas ornaments and sold her paintings and three-dimensional artwork to a bevy of supporters.
My dad took me to sci-fi movies, taught me how to skate, introduced me to the new world of computers and tickle tortured me as we played Pac Man.

But despite my memories of a mostly happy childhood, the divide between my parents could have competed in scope with the parting of the Red Sea. My sisters and I drifted between them.

And then they divorced.

My mom, now a single parent, took on 3 jobs to support her girls.
When she had time to spend with us, she was usually exhausted, sick or stressed and attempted to ease her own emotional abandonment by feeding stray cats in the neighbourhood.
I was in my ‘tweens and spent most of my time grounded in the basement or babysitting my sisters (which usually meant I was bringing them to the mall and then walking 20 feet in front of them so no one knew we were related. Oh, puberty!)
There was not a lot of laughter during this time, and NO creativity.
We were just putting one foot in front of the other in order to survive.
Then, after dating a guy for 6 months, my mom married again.
He turned out to be a con artist and the arch nemesis of my teenage life.

Finally, when I was nineteen, my mom found Mark.
Mark Swan.
Happily, five years down the road, they mated for life.
I finished university. My mom went back to school to be a law clerk.
My sisters grew up and moved out of the house.

Then, in 2003, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.

I never doubted for a second that she wouldn’t conquer this like she had every other battle in her life.
She braved a lumpectomy, 6 months of chemo and 6 weeks of radiation with 6 months of her oldest daughter returning to the nest to help feed her spirit.

This is when she started to ‘get her groove back.’

My mother rekindled her inner spark.
She only allowed herself to watch funny movies, TV shows and read funny books. (Thank you Ellen and from ‘Pilot Guides’ – Ian Wright!)
She challenged herself to stay positive and remember the humour.
She bought 2 wigs that made her look gorgeous.
She attended Wellspring, a cancer ‘healing’ centre, and took classes and workshops that they offered.
She enjoyed Reiki and writing, support groups and above all, art therapy.
It took cancer for my mom to get back in touch with her inner artist: that poor neglected creature just shriveling in her soul over the years.
Cancer brought her Muse back.
It was the formidable catalyst that gave my mom ‘permission’ to focus, once and for all, on her Self.

Semi-retired, six years of “Cure” fundraising, 2 grandchildren born, several dear friends, her dog and her father passed on, a dedicated writer and painter, and now the Captain of her Dragon boating team, my mother understands the importance of self-focus. And so do I.

It is anything but selfish.

In its essence, it is the succulent fruit we devour; as the seeds fall instinctively, silently, and miraculously transforms the lives of those we love the most.

yes Yes YESSSSS!!!

I woke up from a beautiful dream. I was flying. Like a plane. Way up over the city line, my arms stretched out like the Corcovado. Flying, happy, blissful, free. Inhaling the view. Drugs and booze wouldn't know the limits of this kind of 'HIGH'!

This came the morning after meeting the Russian clown’s wife. Not any Russian clown, but Nikolai Terentiev, the famous sidekick of Slava Polunin – who is to Russia what Roberto Benigni is to Italy. A creative icon who irrevocably infects people with decadent JOY.

Slava, and his Snowshow, changed my life. His show – which Nikolai also performs in – attacked my soul. Those clowns captured my heart in 1998 and took it hostage into a land of melting enchantment; a land strangely familiar and wildly foreign at the same time.

I fell in love like a train wreck that day and have never looked back.

And then, on Sunday, February 1st, 2009, I found myself in the home of the Terentiev family, with our exuberant hostess, Irina.

It is unbelievable to me how Life can suddenly catapult you into your wildest dreams. The Snowshow ignited my passion for clowning; it made me see art and life in a blindingly new, vibrant and life-affirming way. It made me pursue clowning, “play” with Brazilian clowns even though we did not speak the same verbal language, and share this passion with students for the last 8 years. And suddenly, after ‘taking the bull by the horns’ (in this case, my darling Ilia) and replying to a message posted in our building, WHACK! SLAM! POOF! There we were, our family of three, in the home of one of the most famous performers in all of Russia – who actually lives in OUR building! OUR BUILDING! Fate just can’t really get better than that.

YES! YES! YES! I say YES to life, to the unexpected, to taking the initiative, to sharing what makes you sparkle and connecting that to the twinkling of others. Just PROPEL yourself into the unknown and see what MAGIC awaits. Oh. My. gAWEd.

And timing. Timing is also a funny thing. For the last 8 months, since Elliott’s birth, I have been a ‘stay-at-home’ mom. A beautiful gift, but also a strange one for my ‘free spirited’, adventurous yearnings. Living in the domestic domain, rather than being a ‘citizen of the world.’ And yet, it is through my home, our place of residence, that this new gift of pure artistic JUBILATION comes!

Those who think that all the talk about the ‘universe providing’ is a bunch of new-age mumbo jumbo be warned! Again and again I have learned that it is so easy to let go of control and enjoy this living ride when you trust in where you are and what is to come, all at the right time, in the right place. YESSSS!

Having laid all my support and hopes on the table with these luscious new ‘neighbours,’ I can hardly wait to see what happens next in this colourful, luminescent chapter of my life. Viva la vida!