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I have been truly, deeply in romantic love maybe three times in my life. The kind of love that interrupts your sleep, hijacks your focus, and makes you feel invincible — like the universe itself is rooting for you. And yet, with each of those loves, I've learned something profound about myself — from the dizzying beginning right through to the messy, mascara-smeared ending. The biggest thing I've learned? Be more cautious. Watch for red flags. Listen to your gut — that quiet

40 days and 40 nights. That's how long I gave up social media — specifically Facebook and Instagram. Very biblical of me, I know. No burning bush appeared, but I  did  discover I had feelings. The first couple of weeks, I felt anxious and unsettled. Not quite FOMO, but more like I'd lost something and couldn't find it anywhere. You know that panic when you put your keys in the same spot every single day, and then one day they just... aren't there? You check your room, the liv

Sometimes I really get in my own head. Case in point: working on this blog. I’ll write two or three short pieces and then, upon rereading them, immediately think,  Who the heck do I think I am?  Why would anyone want to read my life perspective… just because? To be clear, I’m not chasing recognition or applause (although if someone wanted to send snacks or flowers, I wouldn’t say no). This is more about the voice in my head. You know the one—the inner critic who apparently wo

When I was growing up, my mom didn’t just do spring cleaning—she committed to it like it was an Olympic sport. Naturally, I was drafted onto the team. Closets and drawers were emptied with dramatic flair, and up from the basement came the sacred box labeled Summer or Winter , depending on the mood of the month. We’d get down on our hands and knees to scrub shelves and floors. Dressers were hauled out like reluctant participants and cleaned underneath (a place where dust bun

We’re hearing a lot lately about dopamine and how it affects us on the daily. For anyone wondering what dopamine actually is (besides a word people casually drop to sound informed), it’s a neurotransmitter and hormone produced in the brain. Like most good things in life—tea, wine, and unsolicited advice—we need just the right amount. Too much or too little can mess with sleep, mood, memory, and muscle control. Basically, it’s the brain’s version of “everything in moderation.”

This past weekend I went to Ottawa’s first “Bed by Ten” event with some friends. We bought the tickets back in November when they first came out, and I later heard they sold out within a couple of weeks. It was held at what used to be the original “On Tap.” For those of us old enough to remember the wood beams and creaky floors—and if you were like me in the ’90s, quite a bit of underage drinking that definitely never happened there—it brought back memories. The place has bee

I don’t just live in a neighborhood—I live in a community. It’s the best of both worlds: city living with a small-town feel full of genuinely good humans. I love the quiet of trees and nature, but I also appreciate being able to head out for a nice dinner… not that I’ve had much time for that lately. My grandmother was from England and always looked for little pieces of home. My grandparents spent most of their retirement living in row housing, which is also where I grew up.

This past weekend was spent in a treehouse in the woods with three truly wonderful women. One — Grande — is my frequent travel, camping, and adventure companion. At this point, we plan trips with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. The other, Dr. DD, is an incredible woman I met while volunteering with the Nakkertok Ski Club a few years ago. The third, Arc, adventured with Grande to Everest Base Camp last year and joined our Canadian winter escapade all the way from New Y

As I work through a few injuries while still training and looking ahead, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation. Motivation can be as simple as dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, going to work, making money, and paying for what I lovingly refer to as my home:  Shangri-La . But motivation can also be bigger—think fitness journeys, financial goals, or those personal goals that quietly (or loudly) tap you on the shoulder when you’re scrolling on the couch. For me, m

A few weeks ago, I was driving in the car with one of my “youngsters.” We were talking about how some people just aren’t that nice—how you know, how you tell, and how you surround yourself with “nice” people. Then they said something that hit me so hard I still haven’t been able to shake it. They said, “You, for example, are one of the nicest humans I know—and I’ve seen so many people treat you badly.” Oof. It struck me as both a beautiful and uncomfortable moment: one of my

The idea of fasting has always intrigued me. Growing up, I went to school with kids who fasted for religious reasons, and I still know people of certain faiths who do it today. Back then, the fasting kids talked endlessly about the big party they’d have afterward—the celebratory feast that followed their “holy time” of food restrictions. Honestly, that part sounded pretty great. More recently, fasting has gone mainstream. It’s no longer just spiritual; it’s strategic. People

I moved into my townhouse in 2018 after my first marriage ended. I wanted something small, cozy, close to my kids’ school, and firmly in my neighborhood. Condo living had never crossed my mind, but the idea of never mowing a lawn or shoveling snow was suddenly very appealing—especially as a single parent with limited time. What I didn’t expect was that I’d get more than just an easy-maintenance home. I got something that was entirely mine. I hadn’t realized how much I missed

It’s no secret that I love yoga, movement, and fitness. Yoga shows up in my life in more ways than just time on the mat—from the conscious choices I make to live a clean lifestyle, to being kind to animals and others, to staying authentic, to listening to my body, and (as many of my students know all too well) my forever challenge: non-attachment (aparigraha) . This year, I’m committing to doing more for my fitness than I have in a long time. Don’t get me wrong—I’m regularly

It’s been just over a year since my second marriage ended. Last week, my ex messaged to say his lawyer had finally submitted the paperwork for us to be officially divorced. My response? “Yay. Now we have no further reason to communicate, and have a great life.” Naturally, I immediately overthought it. What if I get lonely? He  could  be a friend to call. Which is when I took myself out for beer and tacos instead. I don’t keep much alcohol at home, so I headed out to the resta

I don’t intend for this blog to be about politics. However, what’s happening on the world stage right now is what’s been keeping me up at night. I have ADHD, which for me means I often lie awake, unable to fall asleep, because my mind runs wild with intrusive—and often unrealistic—thoughts. Cognitively, I know that my racing mind is often just that: wild and running! Mark Carney’s speech at the World Economic Summit this week was powerful. I watched the whole thing twice, com

Rage cleaning   When I’m processing something really big—or just trying to settle after a full day—I like to take some time to do what I call  “rage cleaning.”  It’s not that I’m angry or feeling rage-y. It’s more that I’m processing… or maybe just giving my nervous system a chance to regulate itself. It’s often how my mind finally gets permission to rest. I pop on some Spotify cleaning tunes and suddenly I’m unstoppable. Sometimes this happens when I have a whole Saturday or

I like a pot of tea. It’s something I remember always being part of my life—so much so that I’m fairly certain tea runs through my veins at this point. My grandmother was Welsh and spent most of her adult life in England before meeting my French-Canadian grandfather and moving to Canada in her late 30s. There was a little thing called World War II happening at the time. He was in the military, and she was living in a billet town. A war bride, she left England behind to start

A few days ago, my friend  @empact_wellness , who recently turned 50, posted on her story: “I’m at that age where older people see me as young, and younger people see me as old.” This really resonated with me. I’m in my early 50s and have lived an active lifestyle for most of my life. When I’m out on the trail or in my practice and someone asks my age, I’m often told,  “Oh! I thought you were younger.”  I’ll take it. It might be good genes, and sunscreen — but honestly, most

Needless to say, the Christmas break was a bit rough on me health-wise. I think I caught a cold from one of my favourite humans. Not his fault—he’s two and likes to snuggle and sneeze all over his auntie. I can’t resist his cheeks or his charm. After a few days in my tracksuit, I thought I would make it out to spend some time with friends on New Year’s Eve, but the cold had moved into my sinuses, so I made the smart choice to stay in. It was my first NYE on my own as a single

I am not someone who typically makes New Year’s resolutions, and this year will be no different. Instead, I like to take some time to think and reflect on a big theme from the last year. This season, I have been reflecting a lot on my relationships and how I show up for them. In previous years, I had been working on reciprocal relationships. There were relationships that seemed one-sided on either end—either I was always the one reaching out, or the other person was calling m