We NEED to have this conversation...

Ladies, I'm conflicted.

Deeply conflicted. On the surface, what's vexing me may seem like a shallow topic; hair color... I mean with everything that's going on in our world today, who cares about hair color? We watch the news. There are forest fires raging, mass shootings, global warming, Harvey Weinstein accusers being accused themselves, and don't even get me started on factory farming and animal agriculture - ugh will there ever be good news?

Then you turn to your email inbox and find a blog post from me moaning about hair color, should you even care? If you're a woman, I think you'll wanna discuss this with me because I'm not talking about - Should I go lighter? Get highlights? Or go red? I'm talking about stepping off the color wheel altogether. There is a pretty hardcore double standard out there against women going grey.

Don't believe me? Check out this ARTICLE about Celebrities who have confessed to covering up their silver strands. First of all "confess" like it's a sin and second the tag line reads: See which stars admit to having -- and hiding -- their grays. Like it's some dirty little secret. It obviously shouldn't be, but it is.

Frankly I have so much to say on the subject that I don't even know where to begin. You might wanna pause here, go grab a coffee or make a cup of tea and settle in because gurl, we got stuff to talk about.

I come from a culture where we respect old age and wisdom, especially in women. Our grandmothers are our knowledge keepers. I can hear my dad now saying "respect your elders". In fact if I sass him, he still says it to me now and I'm a grown ass woman. Then there's my mom. My mom embraced her silver tresses in her mid-forties and she rocked it. She's gorgeous. She was never ashamed of her grey hair.  So what's the problem? I should be build for this transition, no?

Well, I work in an industry where youth is worshipped and age is almost reviled. (If you're not up to speed, I write for film and television) And while I'm not in front of the camera, people still seem more interested in a young "fresh" perspective. If you seem old, they become afraid that you're out of touch, out of date or not current somehow. As if the wisdom of your years or your life experience doesn't make you a great writer. Which sort of stinks because it doesn't seem to be that way with other types of writing I don't think. Or maybe it is and I'm just not privy to it. Luckily for me, I still look pretty youthful so I get by.

Anyway - that's only really part of the discussion. Let me give you some backstory.

A year or two ago, I was cruising through Pinterest as you do when you're procrastinating instead of working, and I came across the image of a woman who I came to later learn was model Sam Gold. This is that image.

And I thought, wow. When I grow up, I want to be her. 

So then I began wondering, how old is old enough? The general consensus seems to be after 50. I discussed it at length with He Who Shall Not Be Named, and he agreed, sometime after 50 it would be okay, but not really now. Now seems too soon.

I toyed with the idea some more. I reached out to my trusted and beloved stylist Natalia in Vancouver, just to see what she thought. She's an award winning competitive colorist. She took care of my hair for over seven years when I lived out west, if anyone could give me sound advice, it would be her. She said she didn't think it would be a good idea. It would be too high maintenance if I colored it silver and I am not a high-maintenance hair girl, and if I elected to grow it, it would be a long and painful transition. So the resounding answer was no.

Hmm. 
I wondered, should I get a second opinion? I had found a colorist here in Toronto whom I adored. We were together for a year and a half before she moved away, but we'd stayed in touch. So I texted her and asked, should I go grey? I got a "hell no", it's not you. Okay. I sat with that.

Still not satisfied, I went to my then current stylist and had her pick through my tresses to look at the roots I'd let peek through and said, what do you think about me transitioning to grey? Again I got a no. You're too young. It will age you by more than ten years. Don't do it. She was kind of a chatty hair dresser - like it would take me hours just to get a cut so I messaged Natalia and asked for a recommendation and she suggested I try a friend of hers - also a competitive award winning colorist. 

She gave me a fantastic hair cut. But I didn't dare ask her about transitioning. Not on our first meeting. I let the subject die for a while.

Now at this point, you may be thinking, of course your hairdressers are going to say don't do it, they make a living off of you, but that isn't the case. I go for cuts mostly and only ever get my hair color-corrected about once a year. The rest of the time, I box color. The reason for that? I have to color on average every two weeks. EVERY TWO WEEKS PEOPLE.

You're now seeing why I'm so curious to stop this hamster wheel of dying aren't you?

Over this past Christmas I had a hiatus from the show I was working on. He Who Shall Not Be Named, his mom and I got together at a cottage in the woods for the holidays and I decided it would be a good time to experiment. I let my hair grow for six weeks then asked them what they thought. Both my beloved and my mother-in-law said nope. Doesn't suit you. You're much too young. You have such lovely dark hair.

When we got home, I covered the roots and thought whew, yes. This looks better. Dodged a bullet there. What the hell was I thinking. I'm not ready to go grey for crying out loud. 

But then several boxes of dye later, back in the cycle of coloring every two damned weeks - I got hit with vertigo. It wasn't until I found myself dizzy as fuck, on the bathroom floor, ready to barf at any second - waiting for the timer to ding so I could wash the dye out that I though - Shan, what the hell are you doing? This isn't right! Was I so vain that I could quite literally be on my death bed but I'd still drag my sorry butt to the bathroom to color my hair?

Once I got feeling better, I went back to my "new" stylist for a cut and I tried again. Hey, I'm nothing if not persistent. And guess what, noble reader? She said no. I had let my roots grow in for about three weeks so she was able to see what was going on. Her opinion was that I was again - too young - and I was much too salt-and-pepper. I wasn't white enough. What? 

That was new. I had been convinced that I was like 90% grey, but I guess that's not the case. I still had quite a bit of dark hair.  Right then and there in the chair, I decided out loud that I would let it grow. She laughed and said see you in a few months for a color. She told me I would hate it. It won't be what I think it is. It will be course and frizzy and like "witch hair". 

Witch hair? Omg, is that what we think of when we think of grey hair?  Grannies and witches?

It kind of is.

In any case, I thought maybe my stylist could be wrong. I could love it.  I knew I had the upcoming summer off to work on some projects I have in development. I didn't have to go anywhere or see anyone - I could wear big floppy sunhats - it's the perfect time. Then by September in time for the Toronto International Film Festival, I could make a decision. Keep it, or color it.

Oh, if only it were that simple.

No my lovelies - it's become an obsession and I literally flip flop back and forth on a daily basis. I'm driving He Who Shall Not Be Named crazy!

When I committed to doing this the second time around, this time for real, I had a new mindset. I was "ready" or so I though. I ran through my life in my mind's eye and thought you know, in my twenties I was a riot girl. I did things randomly and spur of the moment. I ran off and joined a cruise ship to travel the world, I followed a boy to America, I lived in a yoga ashram - I was doing what you're supposed to do when you're young and wild. I was young and wild. Sorry mom.

Then in my thirties I began to try to figure out who I was. If my twenties were about seeking outward adventure, my thirties became about introspection. I continued with the ashram thing into my thirties where I met my one true love and later fully committed to who I wanted to be - I was a writer. So I set about working my ass off, nose to the grind-stone as they say - doing what you do in your thirties and making my way in the world. Now in my forties, I want to embrace them the same way. Really embody this mid-life thing. I could still be vibrant and spontaneous, but I also know more of who I am, I've had a tiny bit of success and my life is better than it has ever been.

I wanted to embrace all that 40 could offer - and grey hair seemed part of that package. It was truly grey so why not be my fully authentic self? Hell yes! I started going on YouTube and finding all these amazing women I have come to learn call themselves the #silversisters. They were like this glorious white, silver and grey sorority of every age and background you could imagine all rocking their grey. I then found this kickass chick on IG who started a page called Grombre which gave me tons of inspiration to fuel myself on the inevitable bad days.

Mostly, women talk about how liberating it is. I have three good friends who did it long before me and they all love their hair, the choice they made, the freedom in being color-free and true to who they are. They embody their inner goddesses.

I spoke to a couple of silver sisters in the dog park - both of whom encouraged me to go for it, said I'd love it and will look great once it grows in. 

Of course I spoke with my mom. I asked her how she did it. How she felt about it and what she thought and she was 100% on board with my transition. All good stuff, right? So what's the problem, you ask? Why am I conflicted? Why do I so desperately need to talk to you about this and hear from you about it?

Because overwhelmingly the world still sees grey hair as old and the truth of the matter is that my last hairdresser, the stylist who's chair I made this decision to transition in was right! I kind of hate it. I don't want people to see it. I wear my hats everywhere. I feel embarrassed about it and I feel old.

Ugh, really? Maybe I can find something else for my forties to be about and this can be a fifties thing??

But on the good days, I love the light in it, how it sparkles in a way my dark hair never did. It's a much cooler tone now because my  dark hair is a cool dark, near black color and I'd been coloring it all more of a warmer espresso brown for decades. But I'll be dead honest, it's at a hideous stage. I knew this day would come and I know it's going to last for well over a year or two - it will likely take three years to get it where I want it to be, but I don't know if I have the stones to see it through.

Sure, there are options. People add highlights and lowlights to blend it in, but to me that never looks good. You get a sort of bloronge color which is like a blond that goes brassy and orange. It looks fake.

But my mom made an excellent point the other day - She asked, do you really want to be a sixty-year-old lady who has fake dyed hair? No I do not, but sixty is miles away. Could I not embrace the grey in my fifties - late fifties even? Am I hitting this a decade or fifteen years too soon? But if I wait, then I will be 90% grey and won't the transition be even harder then? Especially because my skin will age too?

I'd like to look like Sam Gold when I AM fifty, not spend my fifties going through this hell of a transition.

However - There are people whom I admire greatly who swear they will never transition. People like my beloved Norma Kamali.

I actually might want to be like Norma even more than I want to be like Sam!
But I also want to be me.

So this is the conflict. I love it when I see a stylish woman rocking her grey. I love my mom's hair. But the truth is, I may not actually like it on me - yet I am not ready to throw in the towel yet. In fact, I read this quote from a twenty-something beauty who went grey - 
She had this to say: 

"Why don't you dye it?" My favorite question. Next comes my oversimplified answer, because two trips to the salon per month is way too expensive. If you've embraced your gray, you know that's just a sliver of the truth. The real answer is because I started graying before I was ten and wasn't that much too young to stress over aging? Because I don't want to miss how my gray hair changes over the years. Because so many women in my life want to go natural but are shamed into dying it by their spouse... or their friends... or even their mom. Because I no longer subscribe to the notion that, for women, as essential part of aging is disguising your age. Because after 10 years of dying my hair, I've come to realize that the color that looks best on me is the one growing out of my head. Because this is really me, and can't the real me be beautiful too?"


Okay, do you love this girl as much as I do!? She's hella wise beyond her years. And she looks great with grey hair BTW. She's on the @grombre site on IG.

We do get shamed for grey. People say things like "She really let herself go" or "look at that skunk line" (I happen to think skunks are a super cute animal if anyone cares but don't want to be called a skunk). Then there's the whole Cruella De Vil baddie.

I don't want to post a picture of my hair on here because I don't want the discussion to be about what I look like. Because regardless of how it looks or how it might look on me - I'd really truly love to hear your honest thoughts and opinions on transitioning to grey hair in general. Nay, I NEED to hear your thoughts. 

Do you feel boxed in, and forced to color? Do you just like the way your colored hair feels after it's colored? Have you let your hair grow out and love it? Hate it? Have you ditched the dye or are you dye-hard.

Please have this discussion with me by commenting below. 

Thanks loves,
Shan

Reflections on 2017

With only five days left in the year, I'm struck by how quickly 2017 has flown by. It's been a year of hard work, tough challenges, lessons learned {some the hard way} love, loss, joy and celebration. I cannot remember a year like this one, as arduous as it was fun. I'm saying I think 2017 was a bit bipolar, for as much as I've had to be grateful for and celebrate during the past twelve months, I've also shed tears, been frustrated, afraid, taxed beyond what I'd ever imagined I could handle and still have managed not to feel utterly trampled by it all.

How has it been for you? Have you had a chance to take some time for yourself this holiday? Were you able to sit quietly for a few moments and reflect on all the year has brought you? On all the year has taught you? If you've been overwhelmed by commitments, duties, family obligations, and holiday merriment in general, I'd encourage you to take a few minutes for yourself and reflect. It's the perfect time for it. With the solstice still clearly in our rear-view mirror, the days remain short and dark. We're sitting in the shadow of our recent Mercury Retrograde - so there couldn't be a better time to go within. Look at where you've been, all you've accomplished this past year, be proud of the obstacles you've overcome and have a moment of gratitude for the many blessings big and small.

No idea where to start or feeling too tired to even bother? How 'bout a little help. I found a lovely Christmas Meditation that I was able to do on Christmas morning and it really gave me perspective on where I've been and how I've grown this year, because I dunno about you, but this year has felt like one of exponential growth. My biggest take-away however, has been the lesson of surrender.

We simply cannot control everything. Seems each time you click on the news something bad has happened, is happening, or is about to happen - and with access to global broadcast we're getting more bad news from farther away, faster than ever before. Add to that the various causes you may choose to support, charities you're committed to helping, or change you want to contribute to make our world better - it can all feel a bit much some days. So I've learned to ask for help. To realize that I am just one woman and that it's okay to surrender to a higher power, whatever that is for you.

I've not be here as faithfully as I'd have liked this year so haven't been keeping up with posting my Monthly Virtues, but I'd like to take this opportunity - here in the last week of the year - to set up my virtue for the new year. If you've been following any of my Twelve Days of Christmas posts, you'll know I've committed to going Vegan. It started out just as a pledge for the month of January when I signed up for Veganuary, but as I've done my research and dug into it a little more, I've elected to start early and see it through as a lifestyle shift. {Meaning indefinitely} Therefore, I'd like to choose the virtue of COMPASSION for the month of January.

Compassion first and foremost for the animals, compassion for myself for not making this change sooner, and compassion and understanding for all those not yet ready to take this step.

In the meantime, I'd like to share with you a message from the lovely intuitive counsellor and happiness coach Kari Samuels for this last week of the year. This was her message:

{The Past} You've learned a lot in the School of Life throughout this year. Nobody could have entirely prepared you for what you've learned, because it had to be from experience. Now you know to listen to your inner voice, to trust yourself more, and to make decisions based on what's right for you, rather than someone else's idea of you. Now it's time to make some of your dreams a reality.

{The Present} Let this last week of the year be one of reflection. Your intuition is strong and your Guides are preparing you for a momentous year ahead. There is lots to see and do! Yet for now, it's time to write, journal, dream, imagine and reflect. {I love that!}

{The Future} It looks like we're beginning the year with a beautiful start. Get ready for emotional, spiritual, and material fulfillment. This is what happens when you are true to yourself and take a chance on your dreams. We begin the year with an incredible Full Supermoon in Cancer. It's a big bountiful blessing from the Universe reminding you to shine your inner light brightly!

Thanks Kari. That's a beautiful note to wrap up the year with.

I'd like to encourage each and every one of you to take a chance on your dreams. Dare to make wishes and believe they can come true. I feel very strongly that 2018 is going to be a year of true happiness, blessings and abundance. It's all ours if we choose to accept it.

Happy new year my beauties.
Love,
Shan

The Ninth Day of Christmas - What's your rotation?

I had some serious thinking to do today about the post for The Ninth Day of Christmas, because as passionate as I am about the abolition of the exploitation of animals, I sort of feel like I've been talking about it ad nauseam and I don't want anyone to feel disheartened by the state of the world at present. {confession - I am disheartened. I've learned the word speciesism and we suffer from it big time} It's an entire rabbit hole I could very easily get lost down. 

No, this post needed consideration because I had to stop and think {feel my way into} why I wanted to write these twelve days of Christmas leading us through the holidays and into my bold new choice to turn to a plant-based diet in January via Veganuary. 

I chose to do it partly because I wanted company on this new journey, but mostly I decided to do it because I needed to keep myself accountable to be sure I wouldn't back out. What I hadn't counted on was there being a small part of me who's hoping that by writing about this change in my life, I might be able to inspire at least one other person to also make the change. {and now that feels like the biggest reason, because...}

It's estimated that by going vegan, one single person will save 198 animals in a year, and two people making the change would save 396 and so on. I have no idea where these statistics come from but I read it here. 

So today, I was left wondering... If I want to help you or someone else make this {I'm just gonna say it} gigantic decision, was there a way to make it easy for you? Why yes there is. Welcome to The Ninth Day of Christmas...

Identify Your Personal Dinner Rotation

I'm a nerd. I love making lists. I love reading stats. I'm into doing frivolous research and digging up little known facts. I'm a writer. We live to procrastinate and doing "research" is one of the best ways that I know how to do that. Why do you think this post is coming out so late? I was looking shit up, noble reader.

Guess what I've discovered? Turns out that the majority of us rotate our way through about nine recipes.  If you're anything like me, you're both fussy and lazy which is a bad combination when it comes to making dinner. Thank the good Lord that someone invented Foodora or I might have starved to death this past year. But seriously, think about it. I bet you have your go-to's. And you have variations on what gets slipped into the rotation depending on the season, am I right?

Omigod, it's so weird for me to be talking about cooking. The last thing I am is a food blogger. Well actually, it was pretty weird for me to write about an exercise routine back in the day and in fact, being a blogger was odd to me back then too. Now I just put all sorts of stuff out into the world from my little corner of the interwebs. So lemme get back to the post at hand would ya? Geez. 

Ima talk about what we make for dinner and how we can build on what we already do, so making this lifestyle shift won't feel so effin' foreign.

According to one study I read, it said many people are put off trying new recipes because they think the ingredients will be expensive or making new dishes will be time consuming. Maybe we're dealing with fussy eaters who are reluctant to try new things {again in my case that would be me}. Whatever the reason, they say most home chefs revert back to the recipes they know and love.

Let's take a moment to think about what our favorites are. I don't know about you, but I'm a huge fan of the one dish meal, especially in the winter. Things like hearty soups, stews and casseroles. In the summer I'm all about enormous salads with millions of toppings. Back in the day - I was all about the stuff. If I was having ice cream, it wasn't real ice cream unless it had tons of stuff in it. Now I'm off sugar, I feel the same way about my salads. Don't just gimme lettuce. I'll give you my worst WTF face. Lettuce simply isn't salad in my book. I need crunchy bits like radish, nuts and seeds, and cucumber. Soft bits like tomato and avocado. In between things like sprouts, micro greens and tortilla strip thingies. I love me a Shan salad.

Anyhoo - some of my favorite {read: super easy, fast, and one dish} meals include a North African Quinoa Paella, sounds complicated but it's not. Indian Dahl with Rice, whatever's in the fridge soup, baked potato with a - you guessed it - shit-ton of toppings like black beans, butter and cheese. RECORD SCRATCH! What the hell am I gonna do now that I can't have butter and cheese on my baked potato? It's cool - calm myself. Deep breath. This is exactly what I'm talking about. Your favorite meal might be a shepherds pie and you might be thinking that very thing. What the hell am I gonna do if I can't have ground beef. Chill! We got this. You can get a very good ground round and I'd bet you barely notice the difference. I once made tacos for my sister's family and they all said they had to have ground beef. I was vegetarian at the time so I said sure, no problem. I think proceeded to make the tacos with ground round and feed it to them. They seriously didn't know the difference. It was brilliant.

I may never find the exact right substitute for my cheese {I guess Daiya makes a pretty good one} but I love love love Earth Balance.

Throw some 'a that on the old jacket potato and top it with black beans and salsa and voila, totally simple easy fast and new favorite go-to.

So what are some of your old faves that you can make plant-based? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. 

I'd also like to encourage you to take some time this holiday season, if you're lucky enough to have time off, to browse through some new recipes and see if you can't experiment a little bit and maybe find some brand new faves for going green in the eighteen. Once again, my most tried and trusted ladies are Ella, Angela and Alicia, but that's just a launching pad. Use the old google machine to see what you can find. Loads of amazing chefs who cook all foods will also have some vegan choices for you if you dig.

Tonight, I'm making Alicia's rustic pasta with garlic bread. And you can bet your ass it's vegan gluten-free babies.

Here's to your sparkling health and happiness on this, the ninth day of Christmas and into the eighteen.

Love,
Shan

Oh, and don't forget the animals...

Looking for the Magic

The world is hurting right now, there is no doubt about that. You cannot turn on the news or click online without seeing, hearing, or reading about yet another tragic death or act of terror. It can feel overwhelming and like very dark times. We can get swallowed up by fear, judgement or hatred, we can get lost in our search for understanding. It might feel like there is no way out of this downward spiral and I am not here to tell you that I have the answers.

I don't.

I can't pretend to make sense of the chaos, the anger, the divisiveness as I too am grappling with all of it. I'm not a religious person so I can't stand here and say God has a plan. But I am spiritual. I know there is a power greater than me. I know that there are light workers in the world who help to illuminate this darkness, people that have access to tools that can bring peace and they are sharing what they know. It's up to us to seek them out.

At the moment I am extremely grateful to Oprah Winfrey and Deepak Chopra for bringing us another one of their 21 day MEDITATION challenges. This one is on getting unstuck.

It's essentially a gentle reminder to allow each new day be just that, new. Being aware of your thought patterns and habits allows you to identify them, acknowledge the ones that are not serving you and making a conscious effort to not bring them into your now. Much harder than it sounds. Just to go off track here for a quick second, statistics say that 97% of women have an "I hate my body" moment at least once everyday. So it's safe to assume that we as women generally seem to have negative self talk going on and this conversation doesn't stop at our appearance, it carries into our skills as a parent, partner, boss, employee, we judge ourselves too harshly. Knowing that how can we turn around and say hey everyone, stop judging other people. I'm not saying none of us like ourselves and that if we are judging ourselves that we automatically judge others, I'm just saying that the solution to the world's current climate of fear and hatred might not be as simple as "love each other", for how can we love each other if we haven't truly learned to love ourselves in the deepest sense? By becoming aware of these negative thought patterns and finding more positive replacements.

Which brings me to another of the light workers I'm currently loving right now, Marianne Williamson. Marianne is an author who was brought to the attention of the world at large by, you guessed it, Oprah Winfrey. MW wrote a book called A Return To Love, Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles.

I've just started reading the book in conjunction with doing these meditations each day and it has had a profound impact on me. She is teaching me, along with these meditations, to let go and be in the moment; forget the past and don't worry about the future. Don't worry? How can we not worry? People are being blown up, shot to death and mowed down in our very streets!?! I understand that, but you have to ask yourself, is fretting about it going to undo it? No. But being aware of it allows you to change something within yourself. Hear me out.

As a writer I have to be very self motivated, self-directed and disciplined, but as a result I put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed, do more, be better and consequently can be very hard on myself if I don't live up to my sometimes impossibly high standards. Like, "What do you mean you don't have an Oscar yet, how old are you?" or "You have a social responsibility to be a voice for the voiceless, to create role models for our children with the characters you write, how dare you want to write something just for fun!" It's endless.

One of the first aha moments from the book (spoiler alert) is that we are already perfect. I know, I know you've heard it from me a million times, we're all worthy and already good enough, but listen to what she writes:

Perfect isn't something you need to create, because the Creator already created it. (I use Creator as it's more comfortable for me than God for some reason) The perfect you is the love within you. 

So... our ability to love is what makes us perfect? I can live with that. But what about the people I find hard to love? Or the people I find hard to forgive? Because if there are folks in my life that I love but cannot tolerate or have a hard time forgiving, what chance is there that the world is going to be able to heal through forgiveness for all these mass tragedies if we cannot forgive the people in our own lives?

Marianne has an answer to that. "Any situation that pushes our buttons is a situation where we don't yet have the capacity to be unconditionally loving." Those things are there to bust our comfort zone and move us beyond our stuck points into better versions of ourself. MW has a big chapter on forgiveness and how it is an act of self love because what we judge in others we are really judging in ourselves and if someone has made a mistake and we don't forgive them, we are essentially holding them in the past and not allowing anyone to move forward. (I've over simplified it obviously but well worth the read). This doesn't mean you're going to just say "oh well, what that driver in Nice did was a mistake and we forgive him," but what we can do it take a look within and perhaps begin with forgiving ourselves for wanting to hate him. As I said, I don't have the answers.

But the biggest aha moment for me as I am reading this book was this... Faith.

Everything works with a brilliance of design and efficiency that our human efforts have never begun to match. Planets revolve around the sun, seeds become plants, embryos become babies, the acorn becomes the oak, with no help from us. Their movement is built into a natural system. You and I are integral parts of that system too. We can let our lives be directed by the same force that makes flowers grow  --- or we can do it ourselves. To trust in the force that moves the universe is faith. Faith isn't blind, it's visionary.

I really liked that. In fact, I breathed a giant sigh of relief upon reading that. You mean that I can relinquish control? Thank God (pun intended) because I was beginning to feel like I was about to steer myself right over the cliff into the abyss. I had always thought that surrendering was an act of weakness or somehow cowardly, but it isn't. I wouldn't step into the cockpit of an aircraft and expect that I could fly it any more than I would think it weak to hand over the controls to a certified pilot, so how is my life any different? I'm sure you can come up with some pretty snappy retorts but I am making a point here. There is a reason that alcoholics in recovery say "let go and let God" because they know they cannot do it alone. I cannot do it alone. We cannot fix our world alone.

I'm starting to believe that if I am able to truly let go, to surrender to some greater plan, that maybe, just maybe things might start to shift. I mean you know those people that seem to drift effortlessly through life almost as if they're somehow charmed? Everything seems to go their way, things always workout, they are always happy and at ease? Maybe this is the secret that they already know. Oprah sure seems to know it. I'm not saying her life has been easy, far from it, but it's been abundantly blessed and as a result she has helped to spread those blessings around. She's touching my life as I write this and I have never even met the woman.

I think it's high time that you and I noble reader step out of our own way (or maybe you're thinking finally Shan, it took you long enough to get here), we hand the controls over to the one who knows how to fly and we spend our time looking for the magic and expecting the miracles. Who knows, if we expect them, perhaps they'll appear.

Have a beautiful day and who knows where the road will lead. Someplace wondrous I hope and as long as there is hope, everything will be okay. That I know for sure.

Compassion? Ethics? Choices?

Can you even believe that Monday has rolled around so quickly? Damn, I'm not ready. But this is the week, I swear it, that I am going to finish this new screenplay so that I can start to tweak and needle and rewrite - my favorite part of the work.

But in the mean time I wanted to pop in here and talk to you about some changes that are afoot in my world.

Are any of you familiar with the 2003 documentary film THE CORPORATION? If you've not seen it, I highly recommend it. Yes 2003 is a long time ago, but that film is as current today (sadly) as it was then. I think you can even watch it free on Youtube. In any case, there was a segment in the film about dairy and the evil corporation Monsanto. It got me thinking about dairy and my choices as a consumer.

For over two decades I was a vegetarian, I swore I would never eat anything with parents or a face. 

I have often wondered why we have organizations around rescue and humane treatment of one of these animals yet think it's perfectly okay to put the other on the stove or in the oven. That's kinda fucked up.

I chose the vegetarian lifestyle out of compassion for animals. I decided that I would not eat anything that I couldn't kill myself. As I have no desire to kill a pig, chicken, lamb, or cow, I would not eat them. A couple of years of living on the West Coast of British Columbia had me indulging in the occasional bit of freshly caught wild salmon. It's very much a part of the culture out there. But when moving back to Ontario a year ago, I continued to eat fish and now I was eating not only salmon, but Tuna (dolphin friendly, pole caught) halibut and shrimp. I guess I sort of reasoned with myself that I'd done my fair share of fishing as a kid and did kill the fish and fry it up. So my theory of compassion sort of evolved. (not the best choice of words, perhaps devolved is better). But seeing this documentary and how these cows were abused and in pain got me thinking, wow I need to stop eating dairy and why does a fish not deserve the same compassion as the chicken or cow? 

However I got stuck on my cup of tea. What? Yeah, my tea. Since giving up sugar, my morning cuppa just ain't the same but it's drinkable. OR it was until I tried it with almond milk. Gross. Coconut milk. Nope. Forget soy, not even going there. Milk is the only thing that makes the tea even remotely drinkable. Yet am I okay with torturing a cow for a cup of tea? No. I am not.

First things first, some decisions needed to be made. Is it ethical to eat fish when I don't eat meat for compassionate reasons? How is a dolphin worth protecting but a tuna isn't? Decision made. Once the fish I have on hand is consumed, I will not be buying more. I am returning to a vegetarian lifestyle. I am not suggesting that everyone in the world do this, I am saying this is the right choice for me. But could I be a vegan? He Who Shall Not Be Named is vegan, so it's not like it would be a super hard decision in my family. However, many of the foods I loved as a vegetarian I can no longer eat because they contain soy and wheat. (Ah, there's the WHEAT post reminder again, I'll get there Janice I promise). So no tofu, no tempeh, no tofurkey, not a lot of veggie burger options as most contain eggs, what to do?

I did my research on the organic dairy company that I get my milk from. Turns out that they are a co-op made up of small family run local farms. Some produce organic feed that in turn feed the free range antibiotic hormone free cows that provide milk. I looked at photos of the farms and the families and read the bios and practices and it all seems very sustainable and nice. Of course they are not going to put up pics of sick cows or anything like that. But still.

On the other hand, the good and noble folks at PETA say that animals are not here for us to consume, wear or be entertained by. I do agree (mostly), I think my dog is pretty entertaining.

And I also happen to think my girl Myla's dog is very entertaining. Check him out HERE. He's all business.

Yet when I think of what these small farms are doing I sort of like them. Yes they are making a living off the backs of animals but are those animals not living a pretty decent life because of that? Would they exist or be slaughtered otherwise? I'm genuinely asking your thoughts dear reader. Do you think it might be a worthwhile endeavour to support our local farms so that big industry or corporation owned operations cannot muscle their way onto our land to mistreat the animals, generate harmful waste and abuse the land with all their chemicals and pesticides etc?

Or should we just turn our backs on the use of animals altogether and survive without them on a purely plant based diet? That's the bigger question.

He Who Shall Not Be Named and I took a long walk this morning and we wandered through a beautiful neighborhood here in Toronto with large homes and expansive yards. As we walked we dreamed of living in such a place and I posed a question to him. What if we were to live in a place like this and keep chickens? We could care for them and love them and feed them well and give them a good standard of living - in other words have happy chickens. Would you eat the eggs then? He considered this and his answer was yes. So knowing that the chickens are well cared for and loved and happy gives us an opportunity to enjoy an egg at breakfast. I understand that we can't all each own our chickens. And in the early days perhaps this was how trade happened. One person had chickens and another had a cow with milk and someone else grew the veggies and everyone traded and fed one another. Yes, that's an ideal world. Then the corporation came.

I guess I am toying with the idea of veganism but I'm not there yet. I am a selfish girl who wants her cup of tea as she sits at her computer making up stories. But I kind of take some pleasure in the thought that I am perhaps providing entertainment to those who provide me with an egg or milk for my tea. Am I living in a fantasy world? Or could we go back to this way of being if we made the choice to support local and organic and sustainable small business. Ooooooh, we could even shop locally for clothing and other items thereby eliminating the need for foreign sweat shops and child labor. I dunno, just musing I suppose.

I'd love to hear what you think.
Have a great week.
xox
Shan

A Class With Tracy Anderson - Whoa!

If you'd have come to me on September 11th, 2010 when I wrote The Challenge, my first ever blog post about my journey into The Tracy Anderson Method and said: "Hey in five years, you're going to meet this group of women through an online photo contest and then you're all going to go to New York and workout together with Tracy Anderson in her Tribeca studio and she is going to know who you all are."... I'd have been like, yeah right, I want whatever you're smoking! 

All I can say now is Alice has got nothing on me. She might have fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland and seen some pretty amazing stuff but this? THIS?!?

I never saw THIS coming! 

You know how I like to digress, right? You didn't? Oh, well then you should go to the top of the page and click on What's This Blog because there is a clause in there that states: "I reserve the right to meander, waffle on, whinge, moan, crack myself up, etc. etc." So with that in mind...

Happy November!

Let's talk about November. It's the first of the month. I love the firsts of the months because they allow us to start fresh. To come up with a monthly virtue, to have some resolutions, and they basically give us (ME) permission for a do-over if we so need. 

So last month I chose BELIEVE as my virtue. I don't think I wrote about that, I'm sorry it was a crazy busy time. I chose Believe because my friend Jackie said I needed more self-esteem, that I didn't believe in myself enough and so she had me create my Believe Jar. I feel like I posted about this, so if I did and I am being repeaty repeaty, forgive me. Here's my jar.

The idea is to put in one thing into the jar that you believe about yourself each morning to build that "believe in yourself" muscle. Harder than it sounds. I am not sure I'm quite there yet so guess what the virtue for November is going to be?

BELIEVE!

Believe you're amazing, Believe that you can do anything you put your mind to, Believe everything is possible, Believe you are worth it! 

And keeping that in mind look what is beginning tomorrow (November 2nd)....

Eeeeeeeeeeee I am so excited and I really do feel like I am Alice in Wonderland just following the White Rabbit to where I am supposed to go. How fitting and fortuitous no? Join me as I meditate the next three weeks away with Oprah and Deepak, you can sign up HERE if you want to.

So, you wanna hear about my weekend with Tracy now? I am so excited to tell you all about it, but I also didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to think I was bragging or something, or that I think I'm all that now, because believe me (ha, believe see? It's everywhere) I am more humbled than anything by this whole experience.

I don't want to go into detail about how it all came to be. So the Cliff Notes version is this. At the end of December last year, Tracy came out with Streaming where you could sign up and get a new class each week working out with her in the studio. So fun, right? 

Then in January she launched this Instagram contest where you subscribe to Streaming, you follow her on Instagram and post weekly pics of your streaming experience - mine looked a lot like this...

You see? Not much has changed from my Meta days where I was completely convinced that Tracy was trying to kill me. Even the dog was exhausted just from watching.

Anyway through these posts and pics I got to know several of these amazing women who were also into Tracy's Method and they were nailing it, hitting the mat every day and sending inspiration across the Instagram web waves. At the end of the month Tracy and her posse chose the winners, and while I was not one of them I still felt like a winner. One for having worked out every single day in January and not dying, and two for having met these "girls for girls" kind of women. So much love and support. Well all of that love and support led to this crazy spectacular idea from Emery, check her out HERE, that wouldn't it be cool if we could ALL workout with Tracy. So she asked and Tracy said yes and this happened.

 
If you look at the very top of this pic, you can see my huge grin as I hold up my iPhone. This is the tiny change room at the Tribeca studio. Would you like me to rewind slightly? Okay then I will.

You still here? I wasn't sure if that was a **Yawn** sure go on, Zzzzzz, snore, or a: YEAH woman how did this happen???

So our Emery set the wheels in motion and the weekend event was on, it wasn't on, it was on, drama drama drama - then finally "We're doing it!" But I wasn't sure that I was. I was so scared. In fact I almost didn't go. Honestly, Tracy is super amazing, but all that heat? Those crazy moves? Half the time at home I'd break out in tears because it felt so hard I believed I was in over-my-head. (Oh my beautiful Believe Jar, how far we've come together.) A close friend along with He Who Shall Not Be Named convinced me that I had as much right to be there as anyone else, I was invited after all, wasn't I? Yes I was. So I decided to go, but that wasn't the end of my terror, it actually got much worse.

I mean to tell you I was scared shitless. You know me, I have always been a half-ass-er. My rapper name is Lay-zee for crying out loud.  

I never do cardio, I never work out with shoes on much less weights, now I was going to have to put on sneakers and weights and try to keep up with these Super-women who seemed so much more hard-core than me. They did hours of working out - full double weights and hours of cardio. I was going to be Billy No Friends, after-all hadn't I always been? I'm used to being the odd man out, the loner, hell it's why I chose the Method and Streaming and all of it because I got to do it alone.

Anyway if I wasn't nervous enough, I went and dislocated my rib the very week before going.

It was (and is still) super painful. (Honestly I thought it was a sign that I should not be going.) I didn't have range of motion, it hurt to breathe, but thankfully my masterful friend/chiropractor/witch-doctor was able to tape me up for the event so that I could stand up-right.
 
So we all flew from our respective homes as far away as South Africa and as close as Queens - okay Agi didn't fly she drove, and we met on a Friday night in Soho. I was worried. What if we didn't connect? What if it was just an online thing and when we met they'd all be like who the hell are you? I don't post a lot of selfies, so a few people actually didn't know who I was.

But the first meetings looked a lot like this....

There were tears, there was laughter, there was a whole lot of hugging. Oh my ribs!

You might know many of them from their sweaty posts but look at these girls all dressed up...

 

It was real, the connection, the love, the support - I've never felt anything like it. 

Until stepping into that room the next day. The energy was like being at a massively connected spiritual retreat of some kind. I mean, I lived in a yoga ashram and didn't feel this intense pure love and joy.

 
I know you cannot see me in the class that is currently online because I like to stick to the shadows and prefer to be BEHIND the camera, but can you pick me out? My where's Waldo moment here - I'm under the clock next to the beautiful Erica. Look at this group. So I guess you want to hear about the class, huh?

I was super nervous, I had total butterflies, but when Tracy walked in and greeted us, her voice set me at ease. I'd been listening to her for the better part of six years. It was going to be okay.

Me, always with the camera. But isn't it cool that she has more or less kept me/us in shape all these years? So cool. You rock Tracy Anderson! She was so generous and warm. She took all our hugs and squeals in stride.

But then it was time to move. I thought I would die. The door closed, the temperature rose, I was in the very back corner right in front of the heater, humidifier AND speaker - holy shit talk about sensory overload. But the first thought that ran through my head was: "Hey, this is just like what I do at home, I can do this." It was a rather shocking moment. I was capable.

It's hard to see because it's a screen grab, but that is Clinsay in front of me and Nadineandrea13 next to me. Those are their IG names if you want to check them out. It was super surreal since I'd been following them online for months and now here we all were. WITH TRACY! Omigod.

I had been trying to avoid looking in the mirrors as much as possible but at one point I caught my reflection and I though, "Yo, Masters you have never looked this good at home" and then I realized that it wasn't my reflection lol - it was Lorettasfitnesslife. Omigod. Hilarious, she looks so great.

It was hot in the room but not too hot to stand it, so if you've been putting off going to a Vitality Week or visiting a studio, don't. If I can take it so can you. Just bring lots of water. The heat made me hurt less and move more so I think it is something I want to introduce at home, just not so much the humidity because I am afraid of mold. I don't think I could replicate that sort of heat and humidity anyway. But I quite enjoyed it while there.

There was of course those moments where I was thinking fuck we've got a whole 'nother side to do yet, but you just get so caught up in the music and the movements of those around you that you go with it, it feeds you. The biggest take away was that yes, ladies, online streaming is just like what Tracy is doing live every day. The only difference is that at home I can actually see her. In class I was following either Gillian or Gippersmith (Karen) to know what to do next. 

My advice or what I would know what to do next time is never fly out right after class. We had an afternoon session on the Sunday and I flew out right after taking a shower. I was so ill by the time I hit my gate.

The class really takes a lot out of you, more than at home I think because I tended not to rest in class whereas at home, I might take a break or do less reps. The heat sucks everything out of you. It's better to be able to grab some food and re-hydrate and just chill rather than haul a bag through a crowed airport and stand in endless lines. Especially when injured, duh!

At the airport as I was sitting at the gate I really thought I was going to faint or die. It was so bad, it got to the point where I felt like I would never ever do another live class again, but it's like childbirth. The second the pain is gone, it's forgotten and you cannot wait for the next class.

I'm more inspired and reinvigorated than ever. Still got a bum rib but I am going to try and learn the cardio. You'll believe it when you see it? I know, me too. ha ha. So not a dancer but since Tracy has gone to all the trouble of creating new content with breakdowns, I kind of feel like it would be rude not to.

She spoke at length answering tons of questions, so much that is beyond the scope of this already too long post - stuff like about menopause, cellulite, diet, supplements etc, but the biggest take away was this...

She is designing these workouts with your whole body in mind and with a long range plan. So if one week she doesn't do abs in the master class, do not add them. If she isn't using ankle weights, don't add them on to "make it harder" you are fucking up the long range plan for those accessory muscles. Also if she is adding weight, you should do the same. If you find that you're bulking when you do, really look at those angles, watch in the mirror. Are you getting that leg high enough or hitting it in the same place she is, if you're not you might be activating other muscle groups and that is what is causing you to bulk. 

Just trust her. I know it's hard, but after all these years, I do trust her. (Okay I still don't wear shoes or use double weights at home, but I'm thinking those 2.5 ankle weights might make a nice Christmas gift)

I hope this was helpful and fun. Last words, if you get a chance to do a class with her, do it. She is the real deal, the genuine article. She cares for us, she listens to us, and does this for us because she truly loves it and it shows.

#bestweekendever

Love,
Shan


 

 
 

Jumbled July Thoughts

I honestly don't know what my problem is, but I have been having such a hard time getting here and writing a few words to reach out, share and keep in touch. Even my monthly virtues have fallen by the way side when it comes to sharing them with you. I'm choosing two this month BTW - JOY and GRATITUDE!

I used to wake up in the middle of the night with thoughts and ideas that I'd jot down on my little bedside notebook so I could show up in the morning and tell you all about it. Now I wake up from a nightmare that I've moved back to Vancouver, or that I'm completely unemployable, or that I've gained 60 pounds and started smoking again. Whew.

Call it stress, a break in routine, a shift away from my focus on the Tracy Anderson Method, a bit of the blues, family troubles, the heat - I could go on and on with excuses but that's what they are, just excuses.

I love writing and I love coming here and talking with you through these pages. I jump eagerly to read your comments and thoughts. You're amazing noble reader and I miss you. I am seriously going to try harder to get here more often and to prove it I am going to post a short story. This week. Depending on how long it is, I may have to write it in more than one post as I am aware that it's summer and you're out in the world having fun and you don't have time to sit in front of the computer all day reading. But should you take your ipad to the beach or under the shade of a lovely tree, you just might want a bit of short fiction to keep you company and take you to another world. 

So now I've said it out loud, I'll have to hold myself to it. I've always been so terrified of what you'd think. What if you hate it? My grammar sucks and I can't spell for shit. Honestly I think there are days I have no business being a writer, but I write so may as well share it.

And since it's birthday month, that will be my gift to you. It's all I can afford right now. I know that is a temporary temporary state. I'll find a great job soon, I can feel it.

Meantime I have been writing a series about a female gangster and I sort of feel like talking about it. You know how when you watch a great show and you want everyone else to watch it too? It's like that, but so far this show only exists in my head and on my computer, still I can tell you about it. But before I do, allow me to grovel a little further.

I think I got so used to writing about health and working out that when I started this blog to get away from that stuff, I got scared off. I was afraid to share more of me, but fuck it! There is a handful of you that stuck around because you wanted to and how did I reward you? By going silent. Well nay nay I say. No more. 

So my show is called THE WARD and it takes place in this ghetto in downtown Toronto that literally no longer exists. If you know Toronto today, this neighborhood was leveled to build Nathan Phillips Square. True story. Anyway --

Here's the pitch:
 

It’s the spring of 1919; only months after world leaders signed an armistice to end the Great War. People strive to put the conflict behind them, unfortunately for single mother Charlie Kitchen, a war of another kind rages on.

Charlie fronts a gang in the heart of THE WARD, Toronto’s worst neighborhood. An ethnically diverse community that’s rife with racial tension; it’s over populated by refugees, immigrants, and fugitive slaves flooding into the country in search of a better life. But when you wind up in a place where your neighbors don’t speak the same language, where you’re crammed in on top of one another like rats, where poverty, filth, and disease are so rampant that you’re all but forgotten by the rest of society, the normal rules don’t apply.

You cannot rely on justice to be served. Opportunities are not provided to those who work hard. Women are still considered second-class citizens, and if you’re Native? Forget justice, opportunity, and equality. You’re lucky if you survive residential school.

But Charlie Kitchen is determined to do more than survive.

A mixed-blood Ojibway, Charlie managed to escape the horrors of her youth and scrape together a living in The Ward, both off her back and her brains. She did whatever she had to. And when the men in the neighborhood, including the gangsters, were hauled off to fight for their country, Charlie smelled an opportunity. She stepped up and made sure that protection dues were still paid, that the whiskey still flowed, and that the brothel doors stayed open.

She had a keen instinct for leadership and with prohibition now in full swing, business is booming. But it’s drawing the unwanted attention of the hungry young men returning from war. They want what she’s built and they intend to take it. Fortunately, Charlie has surrounded herself with a pack of loyal warriors who won’t let her be usurped without a fight.

It may be the end of World War I, but it’s the beginning of the biggest fight of Charlie Kitchen’s life.

This series is not one of mobsters gunning each other down in the streets with Tommy guns; it’s no ordinary turf war in the hood. This is the story of woman stripped of her identity, her dignity, and her faith in justice, whose aim is to reclaim all three while her very existence is under constant threat of extinction.

It’s a time of prohibition in Canada; it’s a world filled with gambling dens, bling pigs, and brothels. THE WARD is Canada’s PEAKY BLINDERS; it’s BOARDWALK EMPIRE from the poor man’s point of view. A limited series, THE WARD details the grisly rise and fall of gangster come entrepreneur, Charlie Kitchen in her crusade for equality.

Not content to simply make a living, Charlie Kitchen intends to make history.

 

I'm excited about it. I know it's going to cost a fortune to make and it's a very tricky sell, but I won't know unless I try. I'm grateful for having had the time to write it, and hard as it was, it was a joy to create. Ha ha, you see what I did there? Incorporated my virtues into everyday life.

Hope you're having a great summer and stay tuned for "The Hidden Arrow" the first and only short story every written by me... and likely the last. I'm more of a film and tv gal but what the hell, right? YOLO!

xo
Shan