Keeping It Lit

The other day a friend told me I looked happy...

Friend: 'Well, you look happier.'

My response: 'Do I??!!!' (Insert Angela looking perplexed)

I could hear the surprise in my own voice. Me?! Happy?! As if being happy was completely absurd. I'm not happy, I'm in pain. Yes, paaaaaain. Look at me, give me a 'P'...give me an 'A'....give me a...

Wait. He's a mirror.

The truth is, the people around us are constantly reflecting our light. Even during dark times. We often forget how to see ourselves when hurt which is why those around us become our eyes. They offer perspective, reflection and mostly, hope.

If others can see your happiness, even when it feels buried, it means it still exists. You're shining through.

So take a moment to light someone's candle. Be a mirror. Because mirrors create light and light creates truth. 

-Namaste

Silent Saturdays

The thing about silence is it creates noise. Lots of noise! The kind of noise that is not heard everyday amongst the din of life or the chatter of minds; but the kind of noise that is quiet. It's the noise of spirit.

The NOISE of YOU!

In fact, it's in the silence we truly hear what is being said. Now that is ironic...

I have found, as I explore my spiritual side, that an increase in solitude is necessary. Absolutely, it's a requirement. The truth is, we become buried in the loudness of others. In the demands of who we are suppose to be rather than who we are. We talk and talk and talk. But when, do we listen? 

I almost always ignore myself. I ignore my needs. I ignore my pain. And mostly, I ignore the person inside of me wanting to talk. I ignore my spirit, my higher self. The person with ALL the answers! It's hilariously backwards. We go out when we should go in. We're actually all magic 8 balls waiting to be shook! 

And so, I now use my Saturdays to check out. Basically, I check out to check in. Sounds simple doesn't it? Not really. At first I had to give myself permission to use my day how I saw fit without feeling guilty. When the phone would ring, 'I felt' I should answer it. When someone asked me to go out, 'I felt' I should go. Creating separation from the outside world is tricky. Don't be mistaken. 

But please, shed the complex. Shed the guilt. Shed the lie that time with you is wrong. Have a silent Saturday. Because not talking, is actually speaking. Shhhhhhhh. 

-Namaste 

Simply Beard-i-ful

I would like to take this opportunity to deviate from my usual path to write a little piece called, Angela’s Ode to Beards. I love beards. I think they’re beardiful.

If a man hits on me and he has a beard, he’s already taken the lead over any other beardless beauty. In fact, the more you look like a homeless man, a lumber jack or Jesus; I seem to find you irresistibly attractive.

Now fellas, before you get all grizzly, I should note that I am one of the rare few who finds beards sexy. Most women I’ve met either describe them as ‘dirty,’ ‘scratchy,’ or ‘scruffy.’ So, it’s not for everyone. But, let me just say, I think beards are great. They are masculine and fury and fun to pet. In fact, men with beards remind me of big cats and c’mon, who doesn’t love a kitty?

So, for all you bearded men out there, I approve. I love TBM (the bearded man) and I will never come at you with a razor.

Please note however, a mustache is a whole other story.

-Namaste

Levels Of Love

 Capacity is everything. Your capacity to live, to love and to be loved is directly proportionate to one's depth. The deeper you feel, the bigger you love. Of course, the opposite is also true. The bigger you love, the bigger the hurt can be.

It's been my experience, that pain is one of the best/worst teachers. It mirrors your capacity to love. It shows you how deep you can really go or have gone. In fact, the greater you grieve, the greater you have loved. 

So, wear your pain as a badge of honour. Wear it proudly, because it takes incredible courage to love. It also takes incredible courage to forgive those who do not love the same. We are all doing the best we can with the tools we were given and I am brave because I have loved. 

Who have you loved today?

-Namaste

Making Space...

With every break up, comes the inevitable emptiness - the loss. And the loss, reminds us of impermanence. Nothing stays the same, no matter how hard we cling. Try as we might, life is an ever changing, breathing, trans-formative energy. Resistance tends to be futile and regardless of how you thought it SHOULD BE, you cannot fight the natural flow of the universe. You cannot fight it because the universe is ALWAYS making space. It’s making space for you!

Believe it or not, it supports your highest self. It will create the opportunities (even the sucky ones) that you need to grow as a person and push you beyond what you thought you were capable of. Challenge you to purge the dead wood and make room for new life.

This is no easy task and tends to be horribly uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable because it’s a new space, a rebirth of self, an expansion of consciousness. It’s a brand new you and as difficult as it may seem, the universe wants you to embrace it.

So, this time around, I’ve decided to embrace change. I’ve decided to make space. The first place I decided to make space in my new life with this new version of myself is by transforming an empty space in my apartment.

Let’s be honest, nothing is sadder than an empty room haunted by old memories, so, let’s start by creating new ones!

 Behold, the yoga room!

-Namaste

Ashes To Freedom

A few years ago I bought a ceramic vase from The Wicker Emporium. I was positively enamoured with it. I thought it added such earthiness to my décor. Of course, my materialistic bubble was quickly burst when the first question out of my friend’s mouth was, ‘why do you have an urn?’ It’s not an urn! I said indignantly. Its décor! Of course, I suddenly couldn’t see it as anything else. This perception was also reaffirmed by my brother who came over the next day, lifted the lid and said, ‘hello grandma.’ Clearly, I had bought an urn under the guise of style.

As time went by, the urn collected dust. It just sat in the corner being unproductive.  I debated on throwing it out several times. But, somehow, it persisted as a regular feature of my apartment. In fact, when it came time for me to move, I took it with me. Even though, it was heavy as hell and reminded me of a funeral parlor I had grown attached to it. For some reason, I felt it had purpose in my life. When it came time for me to move again, the Buddha in me said why are you keeping this object? Let it go. But, I just couldn’t. I lugged it AGAIN, my travelling urn.

Then, just the other night, as if someone had suddenly turned on a light; it became clear to me what I had truly bought all those years ago. I had bought an urn! A fire pit! A place for all my sadness and worry and pain! How did I not see this before?! I joked about it but I never really got my own joke.  It can be for me exactly what it’s always wanted to be – an energy re-leaser! A vessel of ash! I can throw things in there and burn them! What an epiphany! The purpose had finally been revealed after years of mockery and I couldn’t ask for better timing.

And so, in my own private living room, I took all my private thoughts that had been ruminating in my private heart; wrote them down on a piece of paper and lit them on fire. The freedom! The release! The impact of this ritual was astounding.

From ashes to freedom, I had found my style after all. 

-Namaste

Stopping to Smell the Roses

I'm a nature buff. I've always been. Not in the camping, sleeps on the ground kind of way but in the way that makes me appreciate nature's magnificent intricacies. I tend to fall in love with every leaf; every flower blossom, every blade of grass. Now before I start getting cracks about being a tree loving hippy, I need to explain my devotion to the natural world. There is such truth in it!  In fact, there are not too many problems out there that can't be solved by smelling a flower. Ok, ok, that may be a little untrue when suffering is great BUT the principle of the moment is true; the small act of taking the time to pause and sniff IS a moment of clarity.

I came to this realization the other day when I found myself walking through campus. I was carrying a bag of sorrow (metaphorically speaking) which distracted me immensely. The button on my pain channel was stuck and no other outside stimuli would penetrate EXCEPT one. I was distracted by one thing. Rose bushes.

You see, I always have to walk by these beautiful pink and yellow rose bushes to get to my car. They are lush and gorgeous and the fragrance that emanates off them is quite hypnotic. I wanted to ignore them. I wanted to bathe in my pain and self indulgent sadness but they drew me in. I couldn't help myself. I HAD to stop, touch and smell. Where am I going with this you wonder (or not wonder) is this, I had a moment; a small, quiet, painless moment. I couldn't believe it! For a whole minute, I was NOT thinking about pain - I was thinking about joy! I was thinking about beauty and texture and life, all because, I stopped and smelled the roses.

With that being said, I think it's important to just stop, touch and smell once in a while. Not to be confused with stop, drop and roll which also can be fun when it's in the grass, not when you're on fire - obviously. But my point is that even if it's brief and seems silly, stopping to smell the roses can make all the difference between what your heart feels and your mind rejects. It can provide solace in times of strife and surprisingly creates small, quiet moments of happiness. Little natural ninja assassins as I like to call them. So let yourself BE a part of nature. Indulge in it; even if you want to be sad and miserable, take a moment. It may actually help with the healing process.

- Namaste