Happy Halloween, all Hallows Eve, and welcome to the end of October. Been a lot of soul searching going on the past few months. Clearing out the old, restructuring and making way for the new. Being open to change and asking that age old question: "Who am I?"
When you ask yourself, "Who am I," do you always get an answer you like? Do you always get an answer. I understand that the answer can change or there can be many. How do we sort out the labels from the truth? And can we ever really know who we are? It's kind of an interesting question to ask on a day like today when so many people are donning masks and running around pretending to be someone else.
But how many of us have strapped on a metaphorical mask attached to some label we've given ourselves and thought that to be who we were until waking up one day and discovering that perhaps it's not who we really want to be? Or that we've outgrown that identity and want to be something else? Or maybe we've lost sight of who it is we wanted to be and got tangled up in the weeds of the struggle and became someone else entirely?
I remember when I was teaching yoga. I loved the practice. I loved the lifestyle. I loved being a teacher. When I seriously injured my neck and could no longer practice, never mind teach, I had a wee identity crisis. People would come to me with questions about yoga or their practice and I didn't know how to respond. Instead of coming from the heart, I used my head and simply redirected them to someone else, I was no longer a "Yogini". It took years for me to realize that one can practice yoga without ever stepping foot upon an asana mat. We practice through quieting our minds, or selfless service, or devotion, the paths are many, it's the label that gets things muddled up.
As I flipped the calendar from October to November, I wondered what I could choose for this month's virtue. I've really enjoyed working on having "good-timing" in October and in fact hope I can continue to be aware of those moments when my timing is exceptional. I'd like to stick with working on things that improve the quality of my life and the lives of those around me, rather than sticking to a more traditional virtue (like patience) for the sake of having something to work on. This is not static work, nor is it arbitrary.
Asking: "Who am I?" and clearing space and making time for silence so that the answers can come is all part of this process. So when I flipped the calendar and saw this...
I had my answer. Sort of. This coming month, I'd like to work on fully embodying who I am, whoever that is. How can we parlay that into a virtue? What would that be called? I began to think of all the people that I loved and admired, one at a time, asking myself: "What do these people have in common?"
They are all truly who they are, they seem to know themselves even when they grow and change they somehow manage to stay the same. They're authentic. That was the answer. Authenticity. In any and all situations, be yourself. Weather meeting the Queen of England, giving a dollar to a homeless guy, walking in to pitch the head of a TV network, tickling a baby, petting a dog, or taking a class with Tracy Anderson... be yourself.
But we can only do that by asking the question... "Who am I?" "Who are you?"
I look forward to knowing you and to taking this journey of self-discovery with you this month should you choose to join me!
Big hugs.
Shan
Remember the quote I shared from the book - How to be Parisian Wherever You Are? Once you reach a certain stage in life "You have the face that you deserve."
Turns out it was a Coco Chanel quote. I just love it.
When I was a kid and behaving poorly or pouting about something you could always see it on my face. My mom would warn: "Be careful, the wind might change and your face will stay that way." I suppose she was really saying the same thing that Coco Chanel was saying. You'll eventually get the face that you deserve.
On that note, I want to share another great weekend quote with you... Especially if you're maybe feeling, shall we say, less than youthful...
"Enjoy the face you have today. It's the one you'll wish you have ten years from now."
Ain't that some truth right there.
Hope yours was a fabulous weekend.
xo
Shan
Good morning my pretties,
I have no idea where this post is going to go today so lemme suggest that you strap in, it might be a bumpy ride.
You know, one of the amazing things about making laps around the sun (or collecting birthdays if you prefer) is the fact that you get to have experiences. You can make choices and if you find you're unhappy or things are not quite working out, or you're just tired and bored, you're free to reinvent yourself. Just look at Madonna... Don't cry for her Argentina!
When I was twenty-four, I was working on a cruise ship where I met a woman who was then, just a year older than I am now and I couldn't believe some of the shit she'd done in her short life.
Hey, how come when I was 24 I thought she was young, but now I'm nearly her age I feel old? That is bang out of order and a massive note to self! Forties are still cool baby! But I digress.
She was a hair stylist. Maybe that doesn't sound all that glamorous, but she was running a spa on a ship so... She'd opened a salon in Pakistan and had been developing her own line of hair care while there, but had to escape under the cover of night with nothing but her young daughter and the clothes on their backs! She'd been married four times, lived in Illinois, Florida, Colorado, California, the above mentioned Pakistan, she'd taken care of her sister as her sister died of aids, she'd broken her neck while skydiving (no kidding!), learned to fly a helicopter, the list goes on. I mean to tell you that there was nothing this woman was afraid of. She'd gotten a scary health diagnosis at the age of 33 and was determined to live the fullest life she could. She was a survivor and a fighter and a chameleon and my best friend. She died on a Superbowl Sunday when she was 55. Trust Jax to cross-over on a big and unforgettable kind of day, but not the kind of day that would ruin you forever like Christmas or Valentine's Day. She was just that awesome.
Wow, talking about her and remembering her kinda makes the rest of what I wanted to write about today feel rather insignificant. You can totally feel free to stop reading here and just take away the message to live the life you've been given if you like.
Or keep reading because I'd like to talk about reinvention or better still, rejuvenation.
Both seem to be the themes of late. Shrugging out of the old scratchy life that no longer fits and trying to find a comfy cozy one that does. I am attempting to step up and define what it is I want career-wise. Not to 'redefine' myself exactly, but finally make the transition between the emerging (read: struggling) artist and the professional working writer.
Let's be honest, I'd like to get paid for it, people!
For one reason or another, I thought the answer to the question or the solution to the problem might lie behind the doors of my closent. I began rummaging around in there and realized that I was basically still dressing like the newbie writer. Still more or less dressing like a college student. I mean come on, for years the only store I shopped at was American Eagle Outfitters.
I'll admit, denim, hoodies and beach hair still really appeal to me. I'll never be able to fully give that up. But if I want to be taken seriously, perhaps I should be looking more toward the classic beauties that I admire and want to be like. Yeah, yeah, I know... Lena Dunham and Diablo Cody were in my last post and as mentioned... both get or have gotten naked professionally... SO NOT what I'm talking about.
I adore the timeless style and beauty of Audrey Hepburn, Lauren Hutton, the young but stunning Emma Watson, and of course my fave, Norma Kamali.
Oh look! There she is with Tracy Anderson, my other favorite lady. (Norma's the one in the gorgeous cateye glasses and fabulous shoes!)
I started pulling out sweatshirts and old jeans, T-shirt after T-shirt, and track pants.
I needed to do something. So I came up with a modest budget and I hit the street. More to the point, I hit H&M, because lets face it, the street around here is Robson and it can get a lil expensive. I had chosen some classic looking pieces online before going so I wouldn't get distracted and I set out to polish up my personal style.
My sister would have been so proud of me, I found sweaters for $7, $10 AND $14, Leggings for $11. I'm not suggesting that these things are going to last forever, but they will help to transition me as I go into meetings and try to behave like a big girl and get a big girl job. I got one more item than I'd planned and came in UNDER budget! H&M I heart you. You're my new best store.
I brought my bag of goodies home and needed to make room. I dug further into my closet and drawers and began building a pile. He Who Shall Not Be Named walked in during this process and offered to help. He felt confident that he'd be able to help me rid myself of outdated attachments. So I took him up on the offer, until he began going through the discard pile saying things like: "You can't get rid of this Brazil T-shirt, you wore that in your film school video, or I remember you in this from when we were in Cuba, you're not giving that away are you?" He was banished shortly thereafter.
One bag in and five bags out! I took shoes, sneakers, hats, bags and clothing to the donation box in the pouring rain. It was like a poetic scene from a movie!
Oh, do you remember the scene in Breakfast at Tiffany's where Holly Golightly is out in the pouring rain desperately searching the al for Cat?
It was like that, but with less tears and less hugging. Okay it wasn't like that at all, but I got that soaked and now I have room in my drawers and closet for my new things.
It was my call to the universe saying: "I'm ready!"
And I finally feel it. Deep in my bones. I was always plagued with feelings of less-than and not experienced enough. I'm officially letting that go. While I know there are plenty of writers whose talents far exceed my own, I have some experience and a thimble full of talent. I've put in the time. I've kept my nose to the grindstone and it's starting to pay off. I've made the film, won the award, written the new series... bring it on.
With laps around the sun comes skill, practical knowledge, experience and a measure of confidence. Confidence not the bravado that can sometimes come with the foolhardiness of youth. I am confident that I can do the job I've set out to do and I am taking the steps... one at a time... toward it.
That journey toward the life you've always imagined begins with a single step, or a trip to H&M, or an overhaul of the closet. What have you always dreamed of doing? Or being? Or having? Is there a way for you to more fully embody that desire? Can you look the part? Isn't there a saying? Fake it till you make it? Well alright then! We got this.
xo
Shan
Hey, happy Saturday lovelies. Whatcha doing this weekend? Going to the movies? Hitting the gym? Hanging out in your PJ's reading a good book? I've just read an unusual book by the creator of the HBO hit series GIRLS, Lena Dunham. Her book's called Not That Kind of Girl, a Young Woman Tells You What She's "Learned".
I was super curious to read it because Lena, (I hope she doesn't mind me calling her Lena) has created, writes on, acts in, and runs her own show. I want to be her! Except the part about acting and getting naked, I don't really want to do that.
Actually, I'd always said that I wanted to be Diablo Cody, Oscar-winning-writer of the fab film JUNO. And she started out as a stripper. Yikes. I hope there's not some subconscious fetish happening here. Could nudity and short hair be in my future??
Or!! Or maybe if I cut my hair and take my clothes off in some kind of public forum I'll finally find the success I so deeply desire?!? Nah, think I'll keep my tresses and my trousers... for now. Anyway this isn't about me, it's about the book. If you're looking for a proper review, you might want to look elsewhere. Plenty of critics have given their two-cents. I want to talk about my experience and impressions of Not That Kind of Girl.
I had hoped that by reading the book, I might gain some insight into Lena Dunham's success, I might uncover some secret or trick that would be an "aha" moment, or that I'd find the next Nora Ephron. Okay first of all, Nora is simply one of a kind and totally irreplaceable, but if I ever get to have breakfast with Lena I am going to live vicariously through her but sucking out every last one of her favorite and best Nora Ephron stories. Let that be a warning to you Lena!
But here's the thing about expectations. In any situation, the higher your expectation, the greater your chance of disappointment. However, if you leave a little wriggle room you might also make way for surprise, delight, humor, and plain old silly fun. So while on the one hand, I don't feel like I uncovered the secret to success or even that I know the writer any more or better than I did before reading the book - (she can be surprisingly forthcoming while not sharing a damned thing!) - I felt my affections for her grow in spite of feeling confused by her. I get that I'm not her target audience and we couldn't possibly be more different. She grew up in New York, child of wealthy artists, the New York Times did a story on her when she was a teenager, so she's no stranger to the spotlight, she's well educated and lots younger. I'm a mixed background kid from the freezing cold prairies of Saskatchewan who never even had cable much less went to an art opening or fancy college.
At the start of the book, I was like, I don't get it. If she hates herself so much, how is it that she's able to put herself out there like that? When I've had bouts of self-hatred I couldn't get out of bed. I stopped trying to understand her and decided instead to just go with it. Just read it for the pleasure of reading. This was no ordinary memoir. It isn't the story of her life thus far. The book is a collection of essays that hold memories, observations, and feelings about various subjects that most girls and women think about -- sex, diet, self-discovery, growing up. I decided it was like taking a sordid sneak peek into the diary of a teenager and I went with it. That's when I really began to rather enjoy it.
She made me laugh, especially in section II of the book - BODY.
She writes: "When I was born I was very fat for a baby - eleven pounds (which sounds thin to me now). I had three chins and a stomach that drooped to one side of my stroller. I never crawled, just rolled, an early sign that I was going to be resistant to most exercise and any sexual position that didn't allow me to relax on my back."
Much of the book felt like an extension of the show but that's okay because I have a theory. This is complete and total conjecture on my part, but I believe that she wrote the book for two simple reasons, both of which make her even more smart and clever than I already knew she was! The first reason of course is the huge advance. Who the hell could say no to 3.5 million? I could retire on that. Imagine it. I could just take all the essays (blog posts) written in my blog Mastering The Method and roll them into a book, get 3.5 mill and set sail for Tahiti where I'd never be heard from again! Ah, bliss.
And two? She had something very real to say! Something very real and incredibly important that needed to be addressed and brought into the light for all the women and underlings in Hollywood who have ever been taken advantage of, shit on, made to feel less than, used, abused, objectified and morally and mentally raped! (my words of course not hers). And she managed to say it beautifully, much bolder and brassier than I ever could have between pages 197 and 202. If you never buy the book or have no desire to read it, at least pick it up and read those pages.
She couldn't have gotten away with writing a whole book about it (not yet, but just you wait until she's 80 boy, then she's gonna let em have it!) because the critics would have eaten her alive and she'd probably never work again, but it was fair warning to the scoundrels. She's saying - baby, I've got your number. Some day I'm gonna be kicking ass and taking names but until then, I'll just laugh all the way to the bank.
She buried this little gem in cutesie camp stories and sexual misadventures so that those not looking too closely could just write her off, saying "oh it's more of the same," and they'd not notice how sharp and cool, how witty and intelligent she really is. So "they" wouldn't feel truly threatened. And she pulled it off with flying colors. You go girl!
xo
Shan
Happy Thanksgiving to those of you in Canada and abroad who celebrate. I know Americans hold off until November, but up North we figure, why wait? It's getting cold out so bring on the festive season!
It's typically a time of getting together with friends and family around a harvest table to give thanks for our many blessings and to celebrate the abundance of the season. We eat, we drink, we feel stuffed and then the guilt comes on. The trouser button gets undone, the pepto bismol gets uncorked, and for two or three months, we promise that we'll do better at the next party or next occasion.
I have a sugar addiction. A serious one. It's no secret. Other artists drink spirits or inject chemicals or sniff powders, I do none of the above. But offer to hook me up intravenously to a bag of chocolate and I'm in. I thought I had finally conquered this demon, but stepping onto the scale recently I came to the rude awakening that I have been in denial!
My sister's birthday is October 24th. But it is also a very significant day for me because sixteen years ago on her birthday I quit smoking. I thought perhaps I could gain some significant strength from the date and came up with a plan to give up sugar again. Once and for all this time, on her birthday this year. The plan was that I was going to take the next two weeks and hit all my favorite shops and restaurants to indulge in each and every one of my favorite sweets and desserts, saying a heartfelt goodbye to each one. Then I thought I could photograph the various delights and talk about my love and longing and blah blah blah!
Really? Kill me now for being so sorry and pathetic. Omigod I think there is a far better use of my time and resources than a sugar pity party. I had had a lot of sugar yesterday and by last night I felt absolutely horrible. Head-ache, bloated, irritable. Gross. I was like that guy in the Monty Python sketch...
Wafer-thin mint, sir? Ugh, not another bite. I had to ask myself: "What the hell are you waiting for?" It's an addiction, there is always a reason, always an excuse, but none of them are good ones. I needed to quit and I needed to do it now. But having been down this particular steep and pot-hole ridden road before and failing so miserably, what is a girl to do? Sadly, there is no magic potion, no magic bullet or quick fix.
Like ripping off a band-aid. You've got to just do it. Plain and simple. No mess, no fuss. Simply quit. Full stop. That's how I gave up the smokes. It took a few tries but here I am smoke-free sixteen years later so...
I got to thinking about this exercise (game) I play when I am struggling with a problem. At the top of a clean sheet of paper I'll write: This is the condition I am currently struggling with.
I'll list the issue.
Then below it I'll write: If this condition were to resolve itself right now, I would feel...
And write down all the feelings that might come with the resolution of the problem. So why not try this with my sugar addiction? Instead of thinking about all the types of sweets I love and will inevitably miss, or all the reasons it's hard to give them up, what might happen if I focused on how I'd feel if I suddenly wasn't addicted to sugar anymore?
It would look something like this:
This is the condition I am currently faced with.
I cannot control myself around sugar. It creates a hole that cannot be filled and I eat and eat and eat until I can literally make myself sick.
If this condition were to resolve itself right now I would feel:
Healthy, liberated, clear-minded, free, at ease, awake, slim, in control, happy, off the hook, unchained, well, uplifted and so on.
I went on to fill a whole page, repeating the words of feelings that felt the most empowered or the strongest so that by the time I was done writing I actually started to believe that giving up sugar was a really good idea. That I could do it. Why not? I'd done it before and can still remember how great I felt. Not only is this possible I'm doing it and I am happy to be doing it.
So on this Thanksgiving weekend, a time of indulgence and feasting, allow me to introduce myself to you.
Hello, my name is Shannon and I am a choc-o-holic. I have one day!
Happy holidays everyone. I hope your weekend is filled with hope, happiness and good health.
xo
Shan
Hey y'all, this is a recipe post!
A real recipe not one for dog food I promise, and it's even kind of diety. I'd like to preface this by saying that I am not a food blogger. Nor am I a foody. I like to leave that stuff to the pro's - Oh Basmati Lime how I dream of your cooking and Spontaneous Foodgasm where ya been girl? Missing you. (I know, huge move, renovations etc. Some of us live vicariously you know!)
In any case, on occasion a recipe will catch my eye or I'll make something up that becomes part of my regular (read: easy) food rotation when it's my night to cook. Yeah, we do that in my house. My night, his night, my night, we eat out, grab take away, we order pizza, ugh, it can go down hill very quickly. So in the interest of staying on top of my game, I've been looking for some healthy easy recipes that will make leftovers for lunch the next day or stored up for when my night comes back around.
And I stumbled across this recipe for Crunchy Thai Salad. Don't worry, it's more than a salad. Have you ever wondered who the heck would ever buy a salad cookbook? I mean come on. It's lettuce. Add any vegetable you choose and top with some kind of dressing. It's not rocket science and I'm not about to stand squinting over a book reading instructions. And yet...
Ha ha here we are. This technically has cooked ingredients so it's not a 'typical' salad in my books. Now I don't know if you've been seeing this, but since last year, Mason jars seem to be making a come back in a big way, used as everything from stemmed wine glasses (they're called red neck wine glasses, I kid you not, my sister bought them for me) to tea mugs, shot glasses, to smoothie jars with straws coming out of the top. Well now it seems, Mason Jar salads are like the new fast food. Yes people, you heard it here first.
Check it out.
I made those. Yeah I did! Usually I just rip the picture off from where ever I found the recipe, but this was from a magazine and well quite frankly a photo of a photo looks kinda tacky.
You can totally make these, trust me, the hardest part of this recipe is actually getting the stuff into the small opening of the jar, other than that, you're golden.
So here it is. Enjoy.
Crunchy Thai Mason Jar Salad
You'll need 4 glass jars with lids.
Ingredients
1 cup black rice rinsed
2 cups frozen shelled edamame beans
4 large carrots peels and diced
6-8 radishes trimmed and sliced
4 cups chopped red cabbage
1 large red bell pepper seeded and diced
6 scallions, sliced thinly (light green parts)
Dressing
6 tbsp coconut milk
1/4 cup packed fresh cilantro leaves
2 tbsp natural unsalted peanut butter
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
1 tbsp grated fresh ginger
1tbsp reduced sodium soy sauce
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp raw honey
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
Okay so I have to make a small amendment here. I do not happen to have natural peanut butter, coconut milk, rice vinegar, raw honey or sesame oil kicking around my humble kitchen (Did you read the part about not being a foodie? I don't even have ketchup for crying out loud, lucky to have salt and pepper!! Okay I'm done now.)
So I bought a nice sort of similar style dressing. I think I'll live.
Also, I'd never made black rice before so I picked up this Lotus Foods one so I'd have directions. Honestly, I have no business posting food stuff really, but I digress.
Here's how you make it.
Directions
1) Cook the rice.
Spread cooked rice in an even layer on a plate to cool thoroughly. OR, you can do it like I did and cook it in the morning, then stick it in the fridge until the evening when you're ready to make the meal.
2) Meanwhile, cook the edamame, drain, rinse in cold water and set aside to also cool. Refer to my fridge note above 'kay.
3) For the dressing if you're making it:
In a small blender or food processor, blend all dressing ingredients until smooth.
4) Divide dressing among the jars. Because I used store bought, I guesstimated that I'd need about a 1/4 cup each. Sounds like a lot but it has a lot to cover. You can use your best judgement.
Then layer the rest of the ingredients in the following order;
carrots, radishes, cabbage, edamame, bell pepper, scallions, and rice.
NOTE: they said there would be a bit of space at the top which will allow you to shake up the ingredients with the dressing when you're ready to eat. Mine didn't really have space, but again, I just used the jars I had and I might have over done the cabbage??
In any case, screw the lids on tight and you can refrigerate these babies for up to 5 days. Cool, huh?
When you're ready to serve, shake it up and dump it into a bowl and enjoy!
Here's the nutritional info per jar
435 calories
15 g of fat
68 g Carbohydrates
12 g fibre
17 g sugar
16 g protein
226 mg Sodium
That's it. Easy peasey, lemon squeezey.
I might top mine with a tiny bit of avocado and a few sunflower sprouts upon serving.
Bon appetite!
Shan
It's been a real coupla weeks. You ever get that feeling? Like you're behind the eight ball of your life? In pool or billiards, being behind the eight ball is a losing position. Basically you can't win for losing. It's not that my life has been horrible. I had some dark days a few months back, but I have gotten through the worst of that. Yet recently, it feels like no matter where I'm going, what I'm doing, or who I'm talking to, I seem to be causing friction of some kind.
I'm changing the metaphorical lens so I can better reframe the situation to a more pleasant view and not get too down about it all. In the last post I wrote, "out with the old and in with the new", I appear to be clearing space, ridding my life of relationships that are not healthy, saying no to things I don't want to do, and setting fire to all that no longer serves me.
Is this part of the shift that happens at this stage of growing up do you think, or am I just at a general turning point? How many of you, when you hit a certain birthday simply decided that "good enough" was no longer good enough? What woke you from the delusion that adequate was okay and suddenly made you decide that you wanted more? Perhaps it was something thrust upon you that made the ground shake beneath your feet and got you walking off in another direction?
I heard a wonderful quote from Oprah that went something like this:
"Every day brings us a chance to start over. We all have those stand down moments that require us to stop and center ourselves to clear the way for truth and transformation. Sometimes those are painful moments. Though it's hard to imagine when you lose what you thought was the perfect relationship, when the job that defined you for twenty years is gone, when the people you counted on turn their backs on you, you may actually be taking a step forward on the path to your truest desires and ultimately to your destiny."
Are those just fancy words to try and help assuage the pain of letting go or is there a grain of truth in there? It strikes a chord within me that whispers "it is truth, your destiny awaits". In spite of saying good-bye to who I thought was a terrific agent, walking away from a book contract (yeah I did), and steering myself away from conversations about merely fighting our middle-aged spread in favor of discussing things a little less tangible, I feel a sense of hope. Like there is a spark in there somewhere that's dying to ignite something bigger and better to lead me to what I truly want. You ever feel that?
Either that or I am actually a little bit totally crazy and am about to crash and burn. I'll never work again and any slim chance for happiness will be gone forever.
Oh darling, the drama of this midlife. Ha ha ha.
While the eight ball currently before me does feel life-sized, perhaps I'll overcome some of these perceived obstacles and this will make a fantastic success story. I once read that -- the obstacle is the way. Interesting, no?
In spite of everything looking like it's crumbling down around me, why do I feel this tiny spark of excited expectation? Crap, maybe this is the first sign of actual madness.
In the movies when a character finds him or herself in a moment when "all is lost", they have to dig deep and dip into the well of courage and strength and do something they had not been capable of doing before the movie started, and it's this action, this untapped power that leads them to victory. They say art imitates life and life imitates art. Could this be an "all is lost" moment when our former youthful selves give way to our wiser and more mature selves?
What I really want to know is, have you found yourself standing at an all is lost moment, looking up and down the crossroads of your life, feeling like everything really has turned to shit... yet somehow, rooted deep inside of you, you felt a twinge of eager anticipation? Like the next steps, although scary, might be okay and might ultimately change the course of your life?
I certainly hope so. Seems I have more questions than answers these days but sometimes that's okay. If we never ask the questions, how can the answers come, right?
xo
Shan
