"Maybe we could be each other’s soul mates"

Sex & The City is a series that captured my heart early on and has continued to keep it tight in its grip, as I have watched the episodes over and over and over again through the years. Right off the bat, I felt personally affronted by this show and the characters. Plus, I lusted over countless pairs of Jimmy Choos and Manolos, Cavalli dresses and Vuitton handbags amidst years of exquisite couture.The much anticipated release of the movie is finally upon us, and I had the opportunity to watch it for the first time last night. I’m not going to do a review or a re-cap post, because I think that would be redundant at this point, especially considering that you can read two fabulous takes on the flick from a couple of the ladies I saw it with here and here. What I will say is that I absolutely adored the film. I laughed out loud at times and I cried and cried and cried at others- thankfully we had a box of Kleenex on hand.
It struck me while watching the film last night that what I love about Sex & The City is that it’s a show about women helping each other through difficult relationships, being constant to each other, being family. The idea that you are no one until you’re with someone is outmoded; it’s better to lean on your friends and not be in a relationship than be with a man out of desperation. This is at its core. This is what I can relate to most about these women.

For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, I suggest that you get your butts to a theatre near you as soon as possible. You will not be disappointed. I promise.


After Glow

My fingers and toes were numb from the breeze that still felt like a spring night, despite the hot day of sun. I sat on the grass by the beach outside of my apartment before bed last night… breathing the air from the water, watching the tiny spots of clouds that scatter the skies. The brightness of the moon made everything a thousand shades of blue. These times, alone with my thoughts, these are important moments.

Photo: Betty Braun on Flickr

As I walked to yoga class with Keira in the sunshine yesterday, I was apprehensive about the pain that I could feel in my back. It was as though all of the negative feelings about myself and my body which had surfaced during our practice on Saturday had become tangled up in a knot, which had fixed itself right below my shoulder blades.

When the class began, we were reminded to focus on our breath. As soon as I made a point of doing this, of breathing into the parts of my body where I felt tension, the pain vanished. At first, I was conscious of the fact that I have a tendency to actively disparage my body. I was not going to do this. Instead, I chose to work on starting to develop a more loving relationship with my body. Towards the end of class, our instructor made mention of the fact that we should have gratitude for our bodies. We should be thankful for coming to class, for allowing our bodies and our souls to connect. I knew that she was right.

I left feeling completely fulfilled. The class was peaceful, but it also really worked my body. Yoga is a heart led practice. The role of our heart is to integrate and balance the different parts of who we are into a radiant sense of wholeness. Yoga is inclusive, not exclusive. I can’t even begin to describe how lovely it is to practice in a non-threatening, unpretentious atmosphere. I think that I needed those negative feelings to surface in class on Saturday in order to move past them. They were a blessing in a sense, because they forced me to re-focus. Right now, my emphasis needs to be on body awareness, self-acceptance, and self-love. When you remember who you are and align yourself with what is truly important to you, you can return to your true nature of health and happiness, I have found.

On our way to pick up some delicious Indian takeout for dinner (plus a couple of very tasty treats for dessert,) I felt as though peace surrounded my heart, vibrancy was beating in my soul and I could feel the glow of positivity all around me.

Hung Up

On Saturday morning, I attended another Hidden Language Yoga class with the ladies. I had been looking forward to it with great anticipation, because the last time was such an intense and positive experience for me. I couldn’t wait to get my butt back in there. The last time, I was overwhelmed by how connected I felt. For perhaps the first time ever in a yoga class, I felt completely comfortable in my own skin. I was able shut off my mind from external distractions and control my thoughts in a way that I had never experienced before.

This time, for whatever reason, I could not connect. I felt awkward and uncomfortable. I was extremely conscious of the pain in my knee and down my back as I moved through the postures. I found my mind wandering away from what I was supposed to be focusing on, and instead getting clouded up with feelings of dissatisfaction with my appearance. I started to feel anxiety about my body parts. As the class went on, the words I wrote down and the thoughts in my head became centered around shame over my flaws, real or imagined. This aroused a self-consciousness that I just couldn’t shake until we were doing the final relaxation phase of the class, and I was able to cover myself up with a blanket.

Photo: R054 on Flickr

Body image is something that I have ferociously struggled with for as long as I can remember. I’ve blogged about it so much that I’m sure I sound like a broken record. I’ve allowed my body to be the target of some of my harshest judgements and at times, the barometer by which I measure my self worth. I wish I didn’t do this. I wish that at 26 years old, I wasn’t still hung up on this. I am well aware that my body does not define me, and shouldn’t.

I know that the important things are who and how we love, why we believe what we do, what we give credence to, a recognition of our inner talents and joys, our spiritual values, our philanthropy, or anything else other than how we look to others. As much as I pray that it did, even knowing this doesn’t stop me from wishing that my face wasn’t so full or that I had a flatter stomach, smaller boobs or thinner thighs; but I can’t allow these distractions to be my focus or to hold me back from honing in on what’s actually important.

Over the last little while, I’ve really developed the good sense to aspire to have a fresh and inquiring mind, body, spirit and soul. I have wonderful friends around me whose positive energy and souls light up my world and inspire me constantly. I want to live a well rounded life. I need to allow my body some room to breathe; to be what it is. I want to thank it for serving me well, for walking, running, stretching, all of it. I want to thank it for being healthy and able and putting up with my ingratitude for all these years. This is where I get off the self-hating diet wheel. This is where I stop offending my body. Stop the ungratefulness. Stop the ingratitude. When I look in the mirror, I want to look and love. Look and SEE.

B-B-B-Benny and the Jets…

This song follows me, I swear. At one point, I had it stuck in my head for three whole months. (Remember that, Dad?) Now tonight, it’s back…I love it.

Despite the fact that it was technically a short week, it has felt like an excruciatingly long one for yours truly. Weird sleep patterns, lots of commitments and a sick tummy have left me feeling drained and exhausted.

Being that it’s finally Friday (at long last), I couldn’t wait to get home from work tonight, put on my comfies and settle in for a quiet night to myself. After preparing and then feasting on greens, some Comox Valley brie and a yummy baked yam, I curled up with a cup of tea and a blanket to watch a bonafide chick flick. Quite honestly, I can’t believe I still hadn’t seen: 27 Dresses. Oh, I’d attempted to see it on a couple of occasions while it was playing on the big screen, but fate would not have it. Tonight, on the other hand, a solo night avec girlie movie was not only my destiny, but also just what the doctor ordered.

The story is about Jane. She’s idealistic, romantic, completely selfless and absolutely unable to ever say “no” to anybody. (Ok, I could relate just a little…) Weddings are her great passion in life. She’s also single and hopelessly in love with her boss. She has been a bridesmaid twenty seven times over; but, when she meets a handsome yet cynical “Commitments” column writer (enter, hunky James Marsden), she begins to examine why her own happy ending never seems to be in sight.
I’m going to admit to you right here and now that I happen to have a soft spot for cheesy romantic comedies. I’m not going to tell you that this is some brilliant film, but it is enjoyable. As we all know, a little cheese is always good on a Friday night, so not only did this movie “melt my little black heart,” and make me laugh out loud, it also made me tear up and cry like a baby a couple of times.
Plus, leading lady Katherine Heigl is too adorable for words. So on that note, here’s a little tribute to Miss Heigl’s personal style, which I have been admiring since I first asked my mom to french braid my hair like hers’ in My Father The Hero. In my opinion, she walks the line between sexy and sophisticated better than most.

**Photos are not property of Work In Progress. All images in this post have been taken from various websites and stockpiled in the “style” archives over the years. If your photo has not been credited and you would like it to be, please e-mail me.**