I once read a thing somewhere - probably on Instagram, if I’m being honest - and it said something like: “If you think everybody hates you, you probably need sleep. If you think you hate everybody, you’re probably hungry.”

The truth about living mindfully is that it is most effective when practiced in as many little moments of your day as possible. Long, formal sit down mindfulness meditations are great for building tolerance and resilience. But finding and taking those brief windows of opportunity to incorporate it into your day is the real treasure in these practices.

Let’s face it, the modern world is rife with reasons to feel anxious. Having a front row seat to all forms of suffering in real time during this time of polycrises is not exactly akin to a spa day. Not to mention the rising amount of pressure on us as individuals to do it all and do it right. So let’s start with this (and say it with me): your anxiety is valid!

If you’re anything like me, sometimes we think we need a perfect set of conditions to begin the thing we’ve been avoiding or putting off, but who do we expect to be when we get those perfect conditions?

Despite, there’s a part of me that is bracing for the return to a "regular" rhythm while another part of me acknowledges that I don’t actually know what my back-to-work rhythm will be like. As a result, the question I’ve been asking myself lately is: What would it feel like if it were easy? I can't help but laugh to myself because it is a classic case of the two arrows!

How do you experience fatigue? What behaviours or shifts make you aware that you need care or rest? What do you turn to in those moments?

I am back in Montreal and have had some time to reflect on my experience in Mexico over the past few months. The thing that keeps coming back to me is how the lack of automation I observed led to more moments of human connection.

Awareness riles me up, joy resources me; and compassion spurs me into action. Compassion takes awareness and joy and elevates it into action. And so, this month, I’ve included some resources and a meditation around the theme of compassion.

Creating networks of care and generosity to meet the immediate needs of our neighbours. And addressing the root causes of challenges we face and demanding transformative change.

So often, our intentions stay rooted in pass/fail productivity-based items like achievements to tick off, places to go, tasks to complete. What if you approached New Year’s resolutions with a focus on how you’d like to feel this coming year.

We are entering my very favourite time of the year. Not because of the holidays, per se, but because of the rituals, traditions, and routines I’ve built around turning inward as the calendar year closes and we arrive at the darkest day.

Rituals and routines share a fine line; at first they can challenge us, or even feel forced, but eventually I find that they open things up for me. On the other hand, rituals and routines are quite different; rituals are more mysterious when routines serve a specific outcome. Despite, it is my mindfulness practice that helps to bridge routines from feeling mundane to feeling special.

This time of year generally carries undertones of death and grief with it. Between the waning light and the falling leaves, it reminds us that everything is temporary, for better and worse.

This time of year reminds me of the nervous excitement of reconnecting with friends after a summer apart, while also carrying a certain heaviness with my seasonal sadness creeping in.

As the manic energy of summer ramps up, and I continue with Project Slow Down. The reality is that Project Slow Down is likely to be a lifelong project, and I’m learning to be okay with that.

My approach to productivity has always been about learning to work smarter, not harder, so that I can do less and just be. I suppose part of the reason I repeat myself so much with regards to this is that I fall off the “rest-and-do-less” bandwagon more than I’d like, especially when my capitalist conditioning pushes me towards a fear and scarcity mindset. 

Valentine’s Day has a way of bringing about a lot of mixed emotions, many of which stem from a belief that happiness lies outside ourselves in objects or other people. Loving-Kindness meditations can serve to tap into our own inner source of love as a means of loving ourselves wholly and fully—imperfections and all—so we can be present and available enough to love everyone around us.