Personal Learning Networks: Start where you are

What a relief.

“Start where you are.”

The advice came at the perfect time. “You can feel overwhelmed.”

Ain’t that the truth. This week I dove headlong into Twitter, which led me into rabbit holes of web content, unfollowers, hashtags, links, and lists.  Enthusiastic plans exploded in my brain. “I will build a learning empire,” some Roman-like voice intoned in my head, looking skyward to possibilities. “And it will be magnificent!”

Many of us have these aspirations, and I can see how we may enthusiastically plan to create a learning community  – only to find that we’re exhausted by the upkeep after two weeks.

Personal Learning Networks require reciprocity. Until recently, I was a one-way street of information. Everything was about output rather than communication. Although I hope that I generated some useful output, I did not interact with members of my community – or even really know who they were. But the worldwideweb is a teeming sea of information, and now I see that the tides need to move both ways. We need to have dialogues, not monologues.

I appreciated the advice to cultivate the depth and breadth of network that works for me. Such sweet freedom! Skimming is okay. Missing twitter responses is okay. Taking a day of rest is okay. Remembering that “personal ” is the first word in “personal learning network” gives us permission to work at our own pace and within our own scope. Personal Learning Networks start from our own needs. It’s important to ask: what am I hoping to gain, give, achieve by embarking on this project?

Tool Distraction

Tools are sexy. They’re exciting. They have fun little icons. Twitter, Diigo, Pinterest, Facebook…each provides the opportunity to connect with billions of people in slightly different ways. But remember:

“The tools are not the journey.”

Tools can help you get there, but they’re they are the vehicle, not the destination. For example, in my Twitter-gorge this week, I became slightly obsessed by it as a medium. Stepping back, it’s important for me to remember why I’m using it in the first place. According to Florida State University professor Vanessa Dennen (the leader of my current course), these tools serve four functions:

  • networking
  • communicating
  • curation
  • presentation and sharing content

Also, using these tools socially has a different feeling from using them for learning. Although the identity overlap of these worlds is now commonplace (social me and learning me communicate via the same fora). Some tools we can use:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Pinterest
  • Instagram
  • VoiceThread
  • Storify
  • Slideshare
  • Diigo
  • you name it.

But whoa there, fella. Don’t go signing up for all these at once. Instead, pause, take a deep breath. Consider, with whom do I want to connect? Where are my people most likely to be? Becoming clear about the goals for our PLN will help us to streamline our resources (our time and energy) by selecting the tools that really serve us and connect us to our greater community in the wide, online world.

Personal Learning Networks – nacho mama’s network

The teacher trainers are clustered in a corner.

“I’m thinking,” says Ashley (yin teacher, vibrant, killer hair, nerdy in the best way), “that we should hold a potluck, a dinner, to bring everyone together. You know, talk about these issues that are coming up in their teaching as a group.  Collaborate and share experiences. I’m getting so many requests for individual coffee chats. I want to be a resource, but it’s hard meeting individually.”

Lisa (soulful, wicked smart, luminous eyes) puts her hand on Ashley’s arm gently and interrupts,  “I know where you’re going here. I had such a similar vision when I started.” She shakes her head, somewhat sadly, “We think, it’ll be so great, we’ll get everyone together, it’ll be this massive community.” She sighs, “I tried it. It just doesn’t work. It’s way too hard to get everyone together physically. They just fall away. That’s why online is such a potent forum.”

I pipe in, “Oh my god, I was just reading about this last night.”

The ladies look at me, “What?”

I plunge in, “Reading about social networks…see, community has changed.” I lean in, getting excited, “Rather than social networks being situated around groups and communities, now social networks are personal. The individual is at the centre. So I connect to you,” I point at Ashley,” and then I connect to you,” I point at Lisa, “and maybe it’s a comment on a blog, tag you on Twitter, whatever, but the communities we create are like overlapping webs. We’re not on the same web anymore.”

Ashley laughs, “I’m so old-school. I want the old group, the same people.”

“Right!” I nod. “The locus has changed. Our groups are so different.”

“Diffuse,” Lisa nods slowly.

“Yes,” I say.

“So,” Ashley tilts her head, “In the old days, we’d sit down…have a face to face and a hug, and now I comment on a blog post and that’s the same thing?”

I shake my head, “Not exactly. These authors posit that people who socially network actually have more face to face meetings. It’s just that now we have other layers of connections too. It doesn’t replace the face to face, but it adds to it. We have different webs now.”

Lisa is now nodding. “Yes, yes. I have professional colleagues and we admire each other from afar and online – we know what the other is doing – but then we also connect and say, ‘oh, we have to have coffee, I want to hear about that thing you were doing.’  That kind of thing.”

“Exactly.” I grin.

And then I turn away, because I want to finish writing my Twitter post.

Photo credit.

Sugar-free: week one musings

One week down.

“Be safe,” my girlfriend continues to caution. She knows I’m going sugar free this month.

What does sugar-free mean, anyway? Is it really that big of a deal? Is it dangerous?

“Sugar-free” can mean different things. We can’t be truly sugar-free, of course, nor should we be. Our bodies convert the foods we eat into glucose for use in cellular respiration (which is kinda sorta important). So carbs – which have gotten all sorts of nasty press –  include yummy things like vegetables and complex carbs. However, they can also include things like coco cola and potato chips.

So “sugar-free” is really a matter of degree and preference.

In my case, I have pulled out foods that are high in simple sugars. These include:

  • flours (all of them: rice, coconut, wheat, spelt, kamut, etc. Da nada. Zip. Zero. )
  • corn
  • alcohol
  • fruit and fruit juice (yes, fruit. But only temporarily! I will add it back in, though I’m not a fan of juice.)
  • sugar additives (honey, sugar, agave, molasses, etc. Stevia is okay)
  • processed foods and drinks of course, because they all have sugar in them. Anytime you see high-fructose corn syrup, we’re in sugar land.

Taking a look at the list above, doesn’t this seem sort of common sense (if a little inconvenient when eating out)? After all, eating nutrient dense food and getting more bang for your buck from your calories has got to be a good thing. Some research also links sugar consumption to cancer, which gives us even more reason to be carb-conscious.

Ketosis

Lowering one’s blood sugar through restricting carbohydrate intake can induce ketosis, which is when the body is low on available glucose and instead burns fat for energy. Ketosis can ultimately also burn muscle, which is why it’s received some criticism in the press and is why you shouldn’t take out the carbs for too long.

One of the signs of ketosis is thirst and reduced food cravings. And funny smelling breath. I have certainly experienced reduced hunger and increased thirst. (I’ll ask some unwary friend to give me feedback on my breath.) But whether that’s because my body is in ketosis or whether it’s because I’m eating more fats and proteins (which are highly satiating) is up for debate.

Verdict

Right now, I’m really enjoying this experiment. I can’t remember the last time I had this much equanimity in my mind about food. Usually I’m a food monster – wondering when the next meal or tasty treat will come. Chocolate, get in my belly! But taking the sugar out has transformed my usual food cravings. I eat… then I’m satiated.  I’m not reaching for the next thing.

For now, that’s well worth the price of admission.

 

Cool blog. “Kate Quit Sugar.”

Cool article. “Life without sugar: One family’s 30-day challenge.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chocolate you can have on a sugar fast. My heart to yours.

I LOVE my hot chocolate. Love it. Well, generally, I just love chocolate.

But if I’m going sugar-free, I don’t want to dive into a chocolate bar, no matter how dark.

So here’s my absolute favourite treat.

It’s oh so good. And it’s dairy free, sugar free, gluten free and even kinda healthy.

  • Unsweetened almond  milk – 1-2 cups in a saucepan (you can sub in hot water if you don’t want it too thick)
  • Raw organic cocoa – 2-4 tablespoons, depending on how thick you want it.
  • One stevia (don’t overdo it)
  • Play with the ratios of almond milk to hot water and cocoa amount – everyone is different in taste (I love mine really thick, but you may prefer a less dense version)

Whisk it all together in a saucepan in fairly high heat. Here’s the trick: bring to a boil. Let it start to froth up, but then quickly remove it from heat before it boils over. You have to be fast like grease lightening. I don’t know why, but it thickens it up nicely.

Let it cool to drinking temperature.

Enjoy!

Stevia Safety Tip

Photo credit

Is Facebook killing real human relationships?

My roommate shuns Facebook. “Ugh, I’m never on that,” she sighs, “Sure, I have a profile, but I never post. Facebook is all about ego. All that posturing. Bleh.” She makes a face. She is definitive. And she’s not alone. A 2013 study implies Facebook use may increase unhappiness.

I’m a yoga teacher.  I often have thought like her and felt slightly guilty and self-serving when I post online. I fret about being a narcissist and posting to just hear myself talk. To attempt to gain a foothold or earn some kind of relevance in the world. From this point of view, the proliferation of  superficial, branded, smiley-faced status updates is not only a shadow of human connection, but one of the cheapest kinds.

“Facebook has saved my ass.” My other good friend Sarah lives in Pennsylvania, with a new family and no kin or friends in sight. Sure, her mom travels often to assist her (they’re quite close), but no one lives within 100 miles. “I have one friend here. One.” She sighs. “Facebook, I never thought I’d say it, but thank God. It keeps me really connected. People are out there, online. If my mother doesn’t answer the phone, if you’re not around and I need a friendly ear. I can jump on. Someone is there and willing to connect. I’m now in touch with people I haven’t seen in years. It’s a good resource.”

So which is it? All about ego, or all about connection?

While the Networked chapter is a bit of a “the lady doth protest too much,” Raine & Wellman (Networked, 2012) make a great case for the use of social media as an extension (not replacement) of social identity. They argue that ICT’s (information and communication technologies) enhance and create opportunity for social connection and that “people who use ICT’s have larger and more diverse networks than others.” Rather than being determined by localized groups, social connection is now spun from individualized and personalized networks. The individual is at the center of the spider’s web, creating their own unique design out of the strands of their own global connections.

“It is the individual – and not the household, kinship group, or work group – that is the primary unit of connectivity.”

Of course, this means that the burden of creation falls squarely on the individual. We can’t (ahem) “phone it in” without our social connections losing potency and vibrancy. Community takes effort, particularly when we are the hub.

What about those claims that increased ICT usage will kill our person-person contact?  Oh, not so, say Rainey & Wellman, “the evidence shows the opposite: the more internet contact, the more in-person and phone contact.” In other words, we’re using our technology to create face to face encounters. But old habits die hard. Despite Skype and other video conferencing technologies, my mother still hugs me fiercely when we see each other. Being there in person is still different.

One of my personal fascinations is the conflation of identity (one of the reasons I’m writing this educational blog on my yoga site..after all, I am me across all mediums, despite the fragmented branding that we may try to impose). Facebook creator Mark Zuckerberg writes:

“You have one identity…The days of you having a different image for your work friends or co-workers and for the other people you know are probably coming to an end pretty quickly…Having two identities for yourself is an example of a lack of integrity….The level of transparency the world has now won’t support having two identities for a person.”

As I’ve dipped my toes into the Twitter infested waters this week, I’ve been overwhelmed, excited, obsessed, and then exhausted by the voluminous exchanges and possibilities. It’s thrilling and tiring all at once.

And sure, like my roommate, you may choose to sit this wave out. But the tide is inexorable, and there’s a teeming hive world waiting to be explored. I’ll leave you with this nugget:

“The Pope also tweets occasionally as PopeBenedictXVI.”

 

All quotes from Networked, The New Social Operating System (2012), Rainie & Wellman.

Photo credit.

Sugar Free, Day 6

I’m usually a hangry girl.

Vata-deranged, angry glint in my eye, don’t-get-between-me-and-my-chocolate-at-3pm kind of person. But the last couple of days, my body has felt…well, weirdly satiated. I eat a big ol’ breakfast at around 9  and don’t even really feel hungry for lunch. That isn’t to say that I haven’t craved an apple (oh, the idea of something sweet makes my lips just pucker!), but I haven’t had the “must eat” crashy crazies that I usually get every couple hours throughout the day.

This remarkable change testifies to the dependency that my body had developed for quick sugar. Now that I’ve taken sugar rich foods off  menu, I’m just not as tempted to reach for the nearest turkey drumstick. Also, the foods that I’ve been eating are higher in fat and lead to longer-lasting satiation: avocados, lean meats, squash, omelettes with coconut oil. I had of course heard about this miraculous shift in the “hanger-pangs,” but it’s rather startling to actually experience it.

My body is…quiet. Less distracted. Less noisy. I’m not obsessing about when I’ll get my next sugar/ caffeine fix, because things are humming along.

What will week two bring?

Adventures in social media

Well, a few days into the course and I am down the rabbit hole.

One tweet leads to instagram, which leads to website, which leads to an article, which leads to a different article, to a twitter feed, to a new post, to a new twitter feed, to a new article, to a new picture..and on it goes. Unfollowers, follow back, ping back (?) what is this new language of social media? Direct message, retweet, favorite…what exactly are the protocols here of engagement? If sometime favorites my tweet, do I need to write back? If they comment on Facebook, do I always like their reply?

Social media is a complex world that mutters like a mad woman in my ear. Rapid jumps and leaps between topics are like the synapses of a giant brain, attention racing from one snappish neuron to the next, uniting us all in a vast web of information technology.

Our task: purify the junk. Streamline the lines. Control the inputs.

As my prof says, “It’s not an all you can eat buffet. It’s all you care to eat.”

My dears, at this moment, I am positively stuffed.

Sugar free adventures, Day 4

Here’s how the day broke out:

  • Breakfast of eggs, squash, spinach, hummus.
  • Lunch: steamed greens, omega 3 dressing, and a chunk of sweet potato.
  • Dinner: turkey, walnuts, squash.
  • And my yummy stevia, unsweetened almond milk, cocoa delight.

So…no rice, no flours, just whole plain recognizable foods full of goodness. Wasn’t hungry for hours after my solid breakfast. For a gal who routinely lives on coffee for the first four hours of the day, eating something substantial in the AM seems decadent! I’m growing curious about taking a more deliberate paleo approach to my “no sugar month”, but have a few questions.

For example, are my beloved hummus and the cream in my coffee “legal?” Do I need to replace cream with grass-fed butter and bullet proof it up (um, by the way, bulletproof coffee is one of the most delicious things ever…but you do need a blender).  And is hummus okay? Legumes? Squash okay? For me, the “you can eat duck, quail, rabbit, bison, or lamb!” is not tempting diversification. I’m currently seeking advice on some paleo twitter feeds to see what I can turn up (and I’m also curious about what kind of response I get through twitter pleas, never having gone the route of relying on the kindness of social media strangers).

So everyone, any suggestions? Or- more importantly – any sugar and flour free favourite treats in your recipe books to keep me strong when the days get a-weary?

Right now the novelty of eating as many nuts as I want is pretty intoxicating….but that may wane after I empty a few more bags of walnuts.

Love your Anti-Sugar-Plum Fairy.

 

Photo credit.

The Joys of Feedly

I had no idea.

Rather than endlessly trowel the net in search of information, or – god forbid! – visit websites, here is news coming to me. Like a little child with a basket of presents, all these goodies in one little place!

And I had no idea.

While I understood the idea of subscribing to feeds, I didn’t realize that I could have a one-stop shop where all those feeds were listed. Mama mia, it’s like a world of wonder! How much easier does this make navigating the informational deluge that is the web!

“The Internet and Mobile Revolutions enhance the ability to coordinate and control at a distance, so that goods and services can come from multiple locations.”

– Networked

Web control and information navigation is now all about filtration rather than acquisition. No longer do we live in a deprived world of content; the task now is to meaningfully navigate the enormous amount of information out there to avoid overload and engage in communities that have the most relevance for us.

“The effects of this shift are multiple: they include an explosion in the amount, breadth, and depth of available content on a wide variety of topics, from a growing number of sources; an increase in the number of perspectives available on any one topic, and subsequently also growing discussion, debate, and (in a number of cases) deliberation of and between these divergent views; an acceleration of (continuing) updates to the available information and knowledge on virtually any field of human endeavour; and the emergence of a wide variety of opportunities for users to become active produsers of such informational resources, by making their own contribution to these ongoing endeavours.”

-Beyond Difference: Reconfiguring Education for the User-Led Age, Axel Bruns

May I step into the riptide! At least now I feel like I have a paddle.

I’m using feedly. What do you like?

The Tinder Generational Gap

“So when you get a text,” my friend says slowly, “you first respond to what they say, and then you have to answer with a question to keep the conversation going.” She is a fabulous and attractive woman in her mid-forties, now venturing into the waters of online dating. I nod, commiserating. I’ve been down this road myself, having spent the better part of a year navigating Tinder, Ok Cupid, and Plenty of Fish.

“Right?” I say, “I found that too, when I was dating online.” I sigh. “It’s amazing how many people don’t get it and just drop the ball. They don’t ask the question. Obviously, you have to put that question in there at the end, otherwise it just stops.”

“Wow,” a new voice.

We both turn to see Jared. Jared is a young, handsome, 20-something with a godlike social media presence. Savvy, smart, sharp.

My eyes narrow slightly, “Wow, what, Jared.”

“It’s amazing that you have to learn that.”

We look at each other. “What do mean.”

Jared explains, he is earnest, “My generation, we just know that kind of stuff intrinsically. You ask the question, because that’s how to keep a conversation going. It’s how my generation was brought up. We don’t even think about it. But you two, well, you’re….”

“Old?” I offer.

“…A different generation.” Jared smiles, “You have to learn it. It’s not innate.” He looks at us, “Wow, it’s so interesting.” He bounds away.

My girlfriend and I look back at each other again. “Well,” I sigh, “at least we’re not writing letters.”

 

“International public relations watchdog Trendwatching.com recently identified a new ‘Generation C’ (for ‘content’, in the first place) as successor to X and Y (2005). While previous generational groupings had also been decried as the ‘Generation We’ – interested mainly in their own advance and pleasure in work and life, with scant regard for the common good or an equitable distribution of resources and knowledge –, Generation C is said to be distinctly different: most notably, it is the generation responsible for the development of open source software, legal and illegal music filesharing, creative content sites such as YouTube or Flickr, citizen journalism, and the massively multi-user knowledge management exercise, Wikipedia. Indeed, one consequence of such efforts (as well as a necessary prerequisite for their sustainability) is that this Generation C exhibits a strong preference for the establishment of a knowledge commons over a proprietary hoarding of information, and (though not inherently anti-commercial) tends to support those corporations who work with users and are seen to be strong contributors to the common good rather than profiteering from it.”

Beyond Difference: Reconfiguring Education for the User-Led Age, Dr Axel Bruns

 

Tweet Tweet Tweet…and Owls

This morning I’ve been inspired to revisit my Twitter feed and actively peruse profiles of people that I admire. I can see how immediate this medium is, trying to create lists (including one for FSU) to try to organize how I receive information from my different communities. It is better to specialize, or shine the whole human forward? I’ve received advice to tweet and instagram my life – not must shiny, brand images. I think this debate will continue on as I negotiate how to share myself via these threads and chirps.

Thank goodness for hootsuite to help regulate some of the information flow and partition out for later sharing! A most excellent tool for scheduling shares and posts and tweets and links, oh my!

Contemplating uses of social media – I’ve heard so many opinions: “It’s all about people’s egos,” “Everyone is self-promoting,”  “People are just looking for validation.” While there may be truth to this – just as we seek validation and acceptance in any conversation – I am happy to begin dismantling these rather presumptive assumptions. Inspired this morning by this quote from “Networked.”

“People are not hooked on gadgets – they are hooked on each other.”

I see how the medium facilitates the message.  So, how much do we think the medium is the message?

Out on a rock…

Well, my first evening of exploring Web 2.0, and I went a bit crazy. First of all, checking out other people’s Twitter feeds caused me to feel self-conscious about the shabby graphics on my Twitter feed, so I had to update those. Then I started reading articles from sites I was lurking on and decided to blog about what I was discovering (ie: trying a paleo diet). This in turn led to some tweeting and tagging (tagging is never something I’ve put effort into, to I’m curious to see what happens!).

I’ve decided to include my educational blog within the context of my current website. I’m not sure if this is inspired, or a really bad idea 🙂 It seems kind of cool to include educational musings within the fabric of my digital presence, rather than partitioning them out – particularly since I like the “identity-in-process” thing …and my website is about education. Shall we only show our shiny and perfect endings? Or is it satisfying to revel in the process, like a puppy wriggling in the dirt for fun? More life, less brand…

Also, I was struck by Axel Bruns “non-scarcity” refrain. Whereas I have previously had an idea of content as being rigid, fixed, and quantifiable, I am beginning to think that content and brand identity can be an organic, messy, and collaborative process that moves forward. In other words, no one will read this in three months unless they’re really looking. And if they’re really looking, then I’m pleased that they will have found it.

This photo is from one of a stock free photo site recommended by Joshua.

Paleo-veganism: the love child has arrived           

My mother never knows what to expect when I come home.

Chatting about my plans for Thanksgiving, there will come the inevitable pause as she tries to plan her menu, “ So, uh…what exactly are you eating now?” Then the big (and well-deserved) sigh, “I can never keep up.”

Poor Mom. Yogis change diets like models change clothes. Vegan one week, then gluten-free, then sugar-free, then paleo…we range happily through the frontiers of cleanses, fasts, and dietary upheavals. Yogis can become obssessed by their diet because – like fitness professionals – we want a physical body that feels clean, lean, and efficient when we pratice. There are good philosophical motivations, too; ancient texts exhort yogis to practice sauca (cleanliness) and kriyas (purifications) as part of their practice in order to purify the body and clarify the mind.

Traditionally, yogis have avoided eating meat as part of the practice of ahimsa, non-violence. Some styles of yoga like Jivamukti explicitly include vegetarianism as a pillar of the practice. Go to any ashram, and nine out of ten times you will served a vegetarian meal. However, after years of no meat, many of my yogi friends have begun adding meat back into their diet. Why? Weakness? Boredom?

No.

Energy. They just didn’t feel good.

For some of them, they’re adding meat after more than fifteen years without it. “I smelled a steak,” said one ruefully, “and that was it.” Some yogis are ordered back onto meat diets by their doctors. “I was so sick, I had no energy,” another confided. “I really didn’t want to do it. But once I added back a little meat, I just felt so much better.”

However, even if they’re adding back in animal products, many yogis still seek diets that are very clean. Free of processed foods, flours, and additives. It’s not so surprising that some have turned to the paleo diet for inspiration. At my office – yes, the yoga one – there is currently a book circulating called, “Eat Bacon, Jog Less.” Now, my office is full of health conscious critters who go to yoga classes and participate in midday jogging parties. Even here, bacon could be next on the menu.

What’s next

While true vegans (those who abstain from use of all animal products for ethical reasons) would emphatically disparage the conflation, a cross over between vegan and paleo is now – rather shockingly – at hand. Apparently, we no longer need to choose. Become “Pegan,” if you will, and embrace the vast foundational similarities between vegan and paleo diets.

  • Eat lots of warm, cooked vegetables
  • Eat good fats
  • Not too much fruit, and eat seasonally
  • Eat whole foods
  • Avoid processed foods (including flours)

Nuts, seeds, fruits, and veggies will form the basis of your meal. Eschew the dairy, grains and flours that aren’t part of the hunting and gathering lifestyle.

And then, if you are a carnivore, go ahead. Throw a steak on it.

 

*For my true vegan friends, try “Oh She Glows.” I promise: not a steak in site.

Education: this post inspired by my research and lurking into online communities such as paleo magazine and the paleo diet. 

Photo credit.

 

Sugar free month. And stuff.

I’m back to my food shenanigans people. Back with a vengeance.

Oh, the food adventures that I have been having!

Well, since we last connected about food, I have become interested in the power of paleo. Just a little. That’s right, I’m exploring what it’s like to run with the dinosaurs (I know that statement is completely historically inaccurate, but since I also know you’ve just seen Jurassic World, you probably won’t mind).

A couple of months ago, I decided that something needed to change. Some of you may have been privy (ahem, excuse the pun) to my first few rounds of food diaries exploring veganism and juicing. Well, the passion for food experimentation never really dies, and now it’s taken a different turn. I went to see a wonderful Ayurvedic doctor, Todd Caldecott, here in Vancouver. And I also saw a naturopath….And an acupuncturist. (Never one to sideline Western medicine, I saw my GP and a gastroenterologist as well.)  Essentially, they all said the same thing:

  • Hey, vata deranged yogi, stop eating things that are cold.
  • Eat warm, nourishing foods.
  • No more salads.
  • Eat some fat.
  • Eat some meat.

Todd was full of good, common-sense suggestions to try to get me back on track (eat early, eat fewer meals, avoid flours). But I must confess that I’m not always the best student (although I really, really try). I often forget to take my tinctures when I’m supposed to and I fall off the wagon and gorge on frozen fruit while watching Game of Thrones.  (“You’e obsessed with eating frozen fruit?” Todd had mused and frowned, “Cold. Too cold for vata. Probably not the best.”)

At any rate, friends, that brings me here.

Inspired by my wonderful friend and yogini, Janet, I am going to go for a sugar free July.

This choice means:

  • no refined sugar
  • no honey, molasses, agave syrup, etc
  • no alcohol
  • no frozen fruit (oh friends, how I wanted to write, “limited!” But I will endeavour!)
  • no flours

Now, I know that flours aren’t sugar, but they’re not great for you, so I’m going to go flour free. Not just gluten free, all flour free. If I can’t tell what it is, then I’m not going to eat it. This little plan will go well with my possible Paleo explorations. More on that to come. But for now, we’re starting with the sugar.

What do you say? Anyone want to come on board for a week?

May the non-sugar games begin!

Photo credit.

social media…and identity

Hello, friends.

Many of you may know that I’m passionate about yoga, relationships, and teacher training. What you may not have known quite so explicitly is that I’m also a fledgling educational nerd. I am passionate about the delivery of education and excited to investigate how we can leverage current technology to create communities of learning and connection.

Here’s why:

  • The next stage of human evolution is digital, psychological, and ethical – not physical.
  • Ethical (spiritual) evolution is essential for our survival.
  • Learning propels human evolution.

Online Identity

In the online world, we play many roles. In some of our web communities we are friends, in others we are professionals, in some we are artists, in others we are entrepreneurs. Much of the time, we keep these identifies firmly locked in their neat little boundaries. After all, what good is our “brand” if it gets muddied by all of all other interests? For example, to keep my own “brand” and identity “clean” and “congruent,” I hosted two separate websites for several years: one for my work as an actor, and one for my work as a yogi. (I have permanently retired the acting site, friends, but could be persuaded to share my demo reel with you upon request for old times’ sake and a good laugh.)

As we use social media to create increasingly complex relationships, we selectively choose where and how to reveal ourselves. To maintain our brand and protect our privacy, information is partitioned and shared with discretion. If I’m trying to sell real estate, why would I blog about my garden? However, this separation – while it perhaps simplifies how we present our online identities – does not accurately reflect the totality of our human experience. I may blog about gardening on my real estate site because I am a real estate agent who is passionate about gardening. And someone who is looking at my site may actually (excuse the pun) dig it.

“Networked individuals can fashion their own complex identities depending on their passions, beliefs, lifestyles, professional associations, work interests, hobbies, or any number of other personal characteristics.”

–Networked, The New Social Operating System.

The Task

Tasked with creating an educational blog for my current course on Web 2.0 (I’m currently pursuing my masters in Instructional Systems and Technology), I am choosing to go wholly unmasked! Rather than segregate my educational blog onto a separate “Student Rachel Site,” I will instead include my work and educational musings deliberately within the framework of my current yoga site. Because learning is so close to my heart, I would like to share the threads of this unfolding educational investigation here with my current community. I welcome your participation in any discussions that piques your interest. And in the process, we may learn more about each other.

May we connect in all ways that inspire us – and continue to celebrate our human complexity.

 

Photo credit.

How productivity has wasted my time

Last year I heard a monk speak at the Wanderlust Festival in Whistler. In contrast to high sweat, uber upbeat, bouncy vinyasa classes that I’d been taking, his talk occurred in a shushed and darkened theatre.  He was settled into a chair on stage in his robes, while all of us shifted in our multi-hued Lulu’s, wrung out from our asana.

Someone raised a hand.

“..So being in the moment is great. Right, we know that. But..what about planning,” she said, “moving forward, being productive.  I mean, how can we do that if we’re in the moment all the time?”

I perked up out of my post-practice reverie.  I thrived on plans. Planning made me efficient, worthy, and good. When I flexed my planning biceps, I could tackle six projects simultaneously, get my car fixed, finish my masters, go for a jog, feed that cat, have sex with my lover, and still manage to call my mother.

“Planning?” He said thoughtfully and slowly. “Haven’t you noticed that you may make a plan – but then something far more interesting happens instead? That something is life. And it’s generally far more fun than what we think up.” He nodded, “So yes, fine, good to have a plan. But use it only as a back up. If life doesn’t provide something more interesting first.”

I sat back. No planning? Oh no no no. How would I get anything done?  Without a plan, I would descend into a life of popcorn, bon bon’s, and Netflix. I would become inefficient, ineffective, lazy, and unproductive. The Plan was the only thing keeping my squirrelly spirit in line.

Smart monk, I thought. But his words surely didn’t relate to me, or my lofty goals.

Oh, how little I trusted myself.

Over the last year, I have begun to recognize that my dependence on scheduling and planning is hiding a profound fear of who I really am.  My planning habits – filling my calendar months in advance, scheduling friends into narrow windows of time, taking on five massive projects simultaneously – were designed to keep me from a “spiral into chaotic hell” that would surely ensue if I actually did what I wanted when I wanted to do it. My plans ensured the hatches were battened down,  deadlines were met, and goals were accomplished.

My planning hid a dirty truth: secretly I believed that at my core I was a lazy, incompetent slacker who would disintegrate into apathy if the reins were loosened. As I’ve begun to slowly chip away at my planning compulsions, I have begun the process of  discovering who I am when there’s no agenda. What happens when there is open space? Can I trust myself to “be good” – even when it’s not scheduled in my calendar?

In the process, I’ve discovered another problem with my planning.

When I have one, everything that I do and experience becomes filtered through The Plan. Does this event/ experience/ person serve The Plan? Then it has a place in my life. Does it not serve The Plan? Nope – discard it! Or more typically, I don’t even notice it because I have peremptorily filtered it out.

Having a plan can put blinders on our experience.  When the plan is all there is (no matter how simple, complex, or awesome the objective), we  only see what relates to our desires. And – unless it’s a fire truck – we miss everything else. There’s no room for change, mystery, or surprise.

We live in a world that loves planning. “Productivity” and “efficiency” are praised far and wide. But we miss some of the juiciness and whimsy of life. As I’ve begun to let go of planning, I can feel that there is more openness to possibility. By dropping our own agenda, we can begin to see what is there, not just what serves our immediate priorities. By becoming more open and aware, something internal shifts in us where we become part of the world, rather than the world being an object to serve our needs.

In our relationships, our partners and friends can often become an unbidden part of The Plan. Do I want a baby? Do I need security?  Am I scared financially? Do I need comfort? A favor? Our loved ones can become puppets in our own personal show. When our agenda runs the conversation, there is no room to really listen to what they are saying, or to understand their experience. We’re too busy waiting for our own turn to speak.

What if we could drop some of our relentless planning? Let’s meet our lover without an agenda, call our mom without needing anything other but to hear her voice. In the space that opens, who knows what new discoveries may come.

 

Photo Credit: mdennes via Compfight

 

Love is in the details

At the office.  8 pm on a Friday night. With my yoga administrator, Caecilia.  And I’m fussing over syntax in an email.

“Sorry, C,” I sigh, “I know this is picky.”

“No, no,” she waves me off.  “Love is in the details.”

I stop short.

“What?  What did you say?”

“Love is in the details,” she repeats an shrugs.

I fumble over to my keyboard, “Hold the phones. That is brilliant. I’m writing that one down.”

 

Love is in the details.

 

When we love someone, we don’t love them generally. We love for their idiosyncrasies, vulnerabilities, quirky beauty and oddball habits. Love is an arrow, a sweet shot through the heart that is specific, poignant, and achingly true.

I love my sister for her fast patter speech and cute snores. I love my Gram for her determined self-reliance when she fights me for the dinner check. I love my mother for her unrestrained love for elephants. My Dad for his enthusiasm for terrible movies (“They’re so bad they’re good!” we chortle).

Perfection doesn’t move us. Our hearts aren’t swayed by social propriety, grand proclamations, impressive salaries, or perfect hair. I will love you for your tragic flaws, your earnest goodness, and your late night confessions. I will love you for the same things that may also make me want to pull out my hair. Your beautiful humanity.  Your ridiculous quirks. I will love you for your details.

‘There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.’ – Leonard Cohen

We don’t express our love through a generalized, untethered wash of feeling. Love is revealed in action through our tiny, everyday choices. We show our love in the fine print. Like when we pick up the flavour ice cream that they like.  Or send the birthday text. Or remember to ask about their important meeting. Or wash the dishes, even though it wasn’t our turn. Or when we fuss over the syntax of an email.

Love speaks through the details.

As we move through life, let’s release our attachment to the seductive idea that love is a grand gesture, a grandiose movie script, a backlit kiss on a perfectly lit beach. Instead, let’s reveal our love in the small choices we make in every area of our lives.  When we take an extra breath, recycle the plastic bottle, listen for the extra minute, make the phone call, and do the dishes.

As it turns out, these tiny choices aren’t so tiny after all. They are the keyholes to magnificence.

 

Why the world needs big box yoga

Big Box Yoga.

Mainstream yoga.

Franchise yoga.

 

“It’s so…corporate,” the yogi whispers. “Sure, I occasionally go there, but the real yoga is happening at (insert name of small, financially unstable, ma and pop studio name here).”

The multi-location heavyweights – be it YYoga, Yoga Works, Core Power, or Bikram Yoga – are often criticized for wolfing down market share from the “authentic” smaller studios that once held dominion over the yoga lineage. And while some yogis embrace the change (oh, to have showers, lockers, clean mats, tea lounges, and infrared saunas!), others snipe at the offering: “Those big box studios. It’s just not real yoga.”

So what is “real” yoga, anyway?

Despite its recent appointment of a “Minister of Yoga”, not even India can really say. Over the last three thousand years, the term “yoga” has described a dizzying range of practices and conflicting philosophies. And despite this recent, cheeky bid for ownership, yoga hasn’t always been high on India’s list of national treasures. Many of its practices (like tantra) were initially reviled by the Indian mainstream.

So where does that leave us on this side of the pond? Are we just paying for a Lululemon clad workout rather than spending the same money at the gym?

Not exactly. Despite yoga’s complicated past, its practices have one common aim: liberation from suffering. And while North American yogis may show up at class to get longer hamstrings, a happier back, or a tighter ass, invariably they keep coming back for something else: “I feel calmer,” “I’m less bitchy,” “I’m just…happier.” Yoga teachers – Ganesh bless them – are still managing to get the essential message across.

The mission of “big box yoga” is to bring yoga – and its message – to as many people as possible. It’s true, we don’t look like an ashram: we eschew incense because some guests are allergic, we are wary of hands on assists and inversions because of lawsuits, we avoid naming our classes in Sanskrit because it’s alienating to newcomers. And we have an elaborate, corporate structure so that we can continue creating shiny, cleanly appointed, box after box in cities across the country. Because we want the non-yogis to walk in our doors and feel like they’re at home. And we want them to come back.

Yes, there are problems with our cultural version of yoga. North American practitioners are predominantly privileged, white, and materialistic. The yoga industry here is a strange, bastard child of our cultural heritage and yoga’s historical offerings. We don’t practice yoga in caves on tiger skins; we wear Lululemon, practice on $125 mats, drink $8 juices after class, and accessorize with malas without realizing that they’re tools for meditation.

And yet….

Big Box yoga is our next best chance for a North American spiritual evolution.

If hitting up a Vinyasa Flow class in Kitsilano helps us to feel a little less road rage and snap less at our kids, that’s good. If we experience less anxiety and depression (yoga has been proven to reduce both), that’s good. If we have more capacity to respond rather than react when conflict arises, that’s good. If we realize that our essential spiritual identity consists of more than thoughts in our head, that’s good. And while yoga may be an elitist practice now, these big boxes pave the way to making it increasingly accessible to less privileged communities.

And what about those smaller, more traditional studios? Will they be wiped out by the evil corporate empire? Not at all. Rest assured: those ma and pop studios aren’t going anywhere. In fact, big box yoga may ultimately inspire a whole new generation of seekers to investigate these more traditional venues. Once our newbies have gotten a taste for the practice, that is.

 

So, bring on Big Box Yoga.

Bring on the North American spiritual revolution.

One well-lit, over-packed, commercialized class a time.

Flourless & vegan chocolate chip cookies

I really suck at preparing for the holidays.

Oh, how I long to be the person who mails their holiday cards weeks in advance, or buys christmas presents in April!  If only I were more like my Grandma Vera, who just bought next year’s holiday cards in the “After Christmas Sale” rack.  Now that woman is prepared.

But I’m not.  I’m a “better late than never, fly by the seat of your holiday pants” kind of girl. So this year, when I forgot (again) to get my cousins something for their stockings, I decided that I would take advantage of my time home on the Texan farm to bake cookies for New Years.

Yes!  New Years!

I may have missed Christmas, but this year I am helping friends and family ring in the new year with something tasty.  Huzzah!

Now, I have friends with all sorts of dietary preferences and requirements, so choosing the right recipe is an art form.  Perhaps it’s just the nature of the yoga biz, but you never know if someone is gluten-free, vegan, paleo, dairy free, seed, or nut free.  And then I have also friends who roll their eyes such nonsense and mock me for not using good ol’ butter, shortening and white flour in baking.

I found this recipe on a delightul site called Chocolate Covered Katie (Katie is my kind of gal), and made a couple of minor adjustments.  Now, while these aren’t strictly gluten free for those who are allergic (they are made with ground oats), for most people who are gluten-preferential, they’ll do just fine.  I used almond milk and vegan chocolate chips (Ghiradelli makes chips without milkfat – simply read the ingredient list on your brand of chips to see if you’ve got some winners) to please my vegan friends.  I used coconut oil in lieu of melted butter to please my lactose intolerant peeps.  However, I used no steak (sorry, paleos).  I also used a stupid amount of chocolate chips.  Just because.

Here you go!  Enjoy!

Rachel’s “I forgot Christmas; wait here are your New Year’s cookies!”

Ingredients:

  • 3/4 cup rolled oats
  • 1/4 tsp baking soda
  • 1/8 tsp salt
  • 2 tbsp brown sugar
  • 1 tbsp plus 2 tsp white sugar
  • 2 tbsp chocolate chips (um, I just dumped a lot in)
  • 1 tbsp coconut oil
  • 1-2 tbsp almond milk of choice (start with 1)

Instructions:

  • Blend first 5 ingredients together in your food processor, blender,  Vita-Mix, etc.  This will turn your oats into a nice flour and blend all the dry stuff together nicely.
  • Fold in other wet ingredients. Don’t add too much, and stir thoroughly before you decide to add more.
  • Use a spoon to form into cookie shapes (your hands will make dough too warm and stick) and place on a greased (with coconut oil!) cookie sheet.
  • Cook 6 minutes at 375 F. (For thinner, harder cookies, you can cook a bit longer.  At 6 minutes, they won’t look quite done, but they “congeal” and settle as they cool.  Uh, sorry, “congeal” is a bad word, but they’re all delicious!

This recipe only makes about 8 cookies. For my New Years baking, I multiplied the recipe by 10. For a regular batch, at least double it.

Happy Happy!

 

Gifts of the darkness

  • 7:48 AM: sunrise.
  • 4:30 PM: sunset.

That’s right, it’s full winter in Vancouver. And It. Is. Dark.

When darkness descends, my immediately reaction is resistance. The long night is too quiet, too settled, too oppressive. Slowing down feels like depression, sadness, existential malaise. The darkness is a gaping maw of introspection. Like a bear with FOMO, I eye the depths of my den reluctantly, avoiding the call to settle in and stop.

I hate slowing down.

My natural rhythm is fancy go-go, Times Square relentless, push through tapdance. But this winter, as the days shortened, something was different.

Rather than resisting the dark this season, I began to feel my way into its heavy quiet. And in the quiet, the gifts of darkness began to emerge.

Letting go

The darkness invites us to pare down, conserve energy, slough off what is unnecessary. Like trees shedding their leaves, we unburden ourselves of extraneous activities and distractions in order to hone in and nourish what is most essential. Our core values – like winter’s stark branches – are revealed in their elemental beauty. Saying no to the extraneous allows us to feed what is most essential to our souls.

Getting quiet

The dark descends with a blanket of quiet. The borders of our world soften inward, the boundaries of our world hug in. When we retreat from the noise of the outer world, our inner voice can be heard. Like the blind prophets of Greek tragedy, closing our eyes to the outer world allows our inner sight – insight – to emerge. As we quiet, the wise voice at our hearts reminds us of deepest values, and sometimes neglected desires.

Finding the light

Ultimately the power of the dark reminds us how to nourish our own inner light. By finding quiet, alone time, we kindle our inner fire, discover the burning source within, reclaim the power of cultivating our own power. We recognize the deep inner safety that lies within us; we can trust our own inner goodness. The light inside us is always there, but can often be obscured by our relentless seeking in the outer world. Going inwards is like bringing wood to our inner campfire, helping to bank the flames that sustain us. For some of us, we are fed by the solitude. For others, our lamps are fed by gratitude. For others, we are sustained by the feelings and integration that come from letting ourselves simply and fully be. Whatever the particular source, we remember that we are whole and perfect in our imperfection in this moment.

As we begin to move towards the light, consider:

  • What lessons lay in the quiet?
  • What can we leave behind as we move forward?
  • What sustains and feeds our inner fire?

Happy New Years, everyone!

xo

Photo.