Spring mirrors my heart

Hello friends,

As a late spring finally blossoms here in Canmore, my heart peeks out of its cocoon of the past few months.

This sense of reawakening has been a long time coming, especially since I committed to a period of deep self-inquiry and inner-work earlier this year.

My intention was to confront my deepest self-limiting patterns, shine a light on my blind spots, and fully embrace suppressed emotions. Looking back, I have to ask: what was I possibly thinking? 

 Marianne WIlliamson’s words were part of the inspiration to jump right into the murky waters of my human condition: “When we let our own light shine, we subconsciously give others the permission to do the same.”

Our one precious life asks us to shed protective veils and rewrite programming that no longer serves us. In quiet alignment, lingering post-concussion symptoms forced a sacred pause, deepening the well of  inner work. 

Impatiently, I looked for immediate clarity on specific situations. Instead, what settled upon me, like a late spring snowfall, was an unexpected inventor of resistance:

Judgement  -  'this is taking FOREver!) 

Justification - 'you're actually fine Julie, just get on with it'

Placating - 'it's all good, life happens',  ‘it’s okay”

Comparing -'It could be worse, other have it so much harder'

Skimming the surface had left me frozen despite the sun. I am learning that true optimism requires more than a cheerful glaze; it demands the quiet courage to meet each emerging feeling fully and honestly.

On a quiet woodland walk, I see my heart mirrored in the unfolding of spring.  unfolding. nature mirrors my heart. From the newly thawed soil, something deep and mysterious has stirred. Exquisite bursts of color and complex shapes appear - the brave, bristled crocuses lead the eventual parade of wildflowers. Encountering a calypso orchid brings me to my knees for close study, perhaps a silent, deep bow to Grace. 

Life is asking the flower to be a flower,  me to be me, you to be you. 

What conditions are required for us to stand in our own quiet splendor? What specific nourishment allows us to emerge, softly yet fully, from our hiding?

I have identified some essential forms of nourishment for me my heart, that may resonate with yours:

1. Meaningful community 

2. In-person connection

3. Nurturing environments you can melt into. 

4. A heartfelt team of support, whether one other or more likely, many others.

5. Practice what I love, teach what I practice. This includes:

   1. iRest Yoga Nidra, 

   2. Somatic, therapeutic movement/yoga

   3. Qigong! 

With that in mind, let’s gather and grow. ♥️

Do what you love longer; find peace when you are stopped.

An adage in my practice and sharing of therapeutic yoga has long been: “Do what you love, longer into life.” However, I've come to realize that I need to add to that: "and be okay when you can’t.”

Julie, Railay Bay Thailand, 2026

While rock Climbing in Thailand just a couple weeks ago, one aspect of why and how I practice yoga the way that I do was clear.

After hosting two glorious retreats, it was time for family play on the rock faces of Railay Bay. Here, the rewards of regular, intentional  practice kicked in.  My personal practice, that I also share on retreats,  consists of purposeful, and inquisitive, meditative,  evidence-based movements which prioritize function over form.

They are designed to foster deep listening, strength, connection and responsiveness and a deep sense of safety. It’s super rewarding and fun when it comes together doing an activity I love.

Yet, life is not always a smooth trajectory of safety, success and embodied empowerment. I was reminded of this just last week.

On the first morning after returning home from a month of tropical living, I was completely out of my Canadian winter routine. I set out for the usual dog walk, neglecting to put on my boots with built-in ice cleats. Although the sidewalks and streets were clear, our favorite off-pavement trails were treacherously slick. I ignored the intuitive thought to "go back for the cleats”. I managed to stay upright for the entire 40-minute walk—until I didn't! With one small step to cross an icy slope, I fell backwards, hitting my head in a way I'd never experienced before.

Thankfully, the resulting concussion symptoms were mild, and I am already feeling much better a week later. My daughter, Lauren, wisely reminded me that I possess the tools to navigate these challenges, and to be present and grounded with the physical discomfort and the "brain fog." She is absolutely right, and for that I am deeply grateful. We all experience phases in life when we are capable, and phases when our body is not. 

To me, self-care practices that teach us to move with life's inevitable ups and downs, all within the foundation of being okay no matter what, are vital. This profound sense of just 'being' is as constant and accessible as the air we breathe; we just haven’t learned to recognize it.

This doesn't negate the times when we feel like we are a mess, or we feel hopeless about something. "Being okay" aren't the perfect words to describe the aspect of us that has never been hurt or broken. From that unshakable ground of basic being, life ebbs and flows.

I wasn't the only one who returned home from retreat to a difficult situation. Tracy Rohl shared that as her plane touched down on the Canadian tarmac, she received news about the loss of a loved one. She confided in me, saying, "I have never felt so light and aware of myself as I did after two weeks with you. I will get back there, now that I know what it takes. You gave us the tools, and it is up to us to use them." When I asked Tracy for her permission to share her words, she added, "I really believe each and every one of us on the retreat with you feels that."

The principles of therapeutic yoga and meditation are not just for the good times. They are the scaffolding that allows us to meet difficulty with a deep, quiet strength, and perhaps even a bit of grace. Whether it's a tumble on the ice or another unexpected challenge, the tools of self-awareness and gentle movement pave the way for resilience. My hope is that we all continue to prioritize the small, consistent self-care practices that reveal our inherent 'okayness'—a truth that sustains us, no matter the terrain.

3 Lessons Learned at my daughter's wedding

1. 

   In matters of love, there is always more to express.

1. Preparing and delivering a wedding speech provided an opportunity to reminisce, express my love for Taylor, and learn a few things along the way. Her sparkling eyes and open heart were a welcoming space for my words. There was a moment when Tay's expression seemed to say, "ugh oh, Mom don't go there!" as I touched on a topic from her teenage years, followed by relief when I didn't continue. Moms are like baleen whales; we have filters. Despite its imperfections and sniffle-laden moments, my speech was a direct expression of love that transcended words.

I now realize we don't have to wait for the opportunity of a formal speech to go through the steps.. For me, this began by letting words free-flow into the 'voice memo' feature on my phone as I walked along forest trails. Later with using "transcribe", voila, there was my speech in text, albeit a 37-minute version for a 6-minute time guideline! Ah, but the the bones were there. Then after a challenging dissection, it all fell in place.

The emotions that flowed through the creative process didn't depend on delivery of the speech. Delivery could be a face-to-face chat, by phone, recording, or letter. If words aren't your forté let the feelings and memories inspire a sketch or painting.

We can also honor those who have passed by reflecting, writing, or creating. It's never too late to recognize what's in our hearts.

2. Healing from family conflicts can be more profound when we come together in celebration of love.

Family gatherings frequently confront us with past hurts. Use this chance to come together in the shared love for those being honored.

The days surrounding the wedding provided an opportunity for me to reconnect with my former in-laws, who will always feel like family. It was a time to stand together, arms linked, with Taylor's dad, his wife, and my husband Mitch, united in our love for Taylor and her new husband Nick. An unforgettable moment was when Taylor's dad and I prepared to walk our daughter to her waiting groom. A high-five and a meaningful glance between us captured the essence of our shared history, with all its ups and downs, culminating in this perfect moment.

The end of a marriage doesn't mean it wasn't 'successful'.

If you anticipate that your family situation might be confrontational or challenging, take the necessary steps to recognize and address your emotions well in advance. Establish the boundaries you require, and then, embody the love that defines you. Everything else is merely a narrative within the sphere of love. 

3. We are not responsible for other people's happiness.

When I asked my dear friend Liz if she had advice for me after her son's wedding, she said 'be present'. It actually made me chuckle as that's what I teach, and yet I can't hear it often enough. Liz said she was so busy taking care of others that she wasn't very present for herself. I took her precaution to heart, considered the needs of others, and didn't take on responsibility for their enjoyment. I was free to have a great time, and a great time it was!

Oh, and another tip I picked up as the mother of the bride: Skip the after-party, even if you're invited. You're still a parent, after all:) Rest up and have a 'whale of a time' the following day.