On our cynical days, we say, oh please, you think joy is possible, or effective, or realistic? And i say, yes, it’s all three. But if it isn’t within reach today, if the idea of joy is depressing, try one of joy’s younger siblings, instead: Try hope for something a bit better tomorrow, try mild optimism, try ten seconds of peace. Try anything that gives you more energy right now. We’ll find our way back to joy that way. (Thanks to Esther.)
And When The Idea of Joy is Just Depressing?
Yoga Where

There’s a game we play in the clinic that I’d love to play with you. Here it is: You can fly / swim / drive / hike / spaceship-travel / time-travel your way to anywhere, and do your favourite pose upon arrival. A photograph of you, in this pose, will be on your bedroom wall forever as a reminder that dreams can and do come true.
In the way of encouragement, I’ll say a couple of things.
Some people don’t like to play. They don’t like to commit (You can change your mind tomorrow! You can change your mind in 17 seconds!), or risk looking foolish, like the woman who finally said, “I can’t think of anything more exotic than Disney World, and even Disney World is too adventurous for me!” All answers are gorgeous, I told her. Pick your garage, if that’s what bakes your cake.
Some don’t like to dream at all because it depresses them. What is that? A lack of confidence? Hope? An atrophied imagination? An assumption that games are for kids?
Please take or leave this next bit. My intent is not to make you believe it, but to offer it in case it’s useful. We play these games at the clinic because they have gorgeous and practical effects. Bodies work best when we are alive, when we love ourselves enough to appreciate our current circumstances and dream of wonderful things to come.
Besides. It may come true.
Mine is Angkor Wat, a famous, ancient (hence the time travel) temple in Cambodia. I’m going this winter. Me, Downward Dog, Angkor Wat, 2011. Above is my daughter Kali, in Australia, imitating the big guy’s pose.
What’s yours? I can hardly wait to hear.
Thanks to Downward Dog for being the perfect travel partner, and thank you for the conversation,
Kristin
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (about All Things Wonderful) from North Bay, Ontario. Join her on twitter, on Facebook, and on the web.
Monkey Business
I’ve just finished a workshop for actors and directors. It taught me something about my yoga practice.
What occurs to me now is that, although it might be healthy to rebel against someone else’s stick, my own structure might be a beautiful thing.
Is it possible that greater freedom comes when we add structure to flow? Is it possible I might prefer this kind of freedom? I’ll bet it is. Makes me squirm a bit. (I shouldn’t have mentioned food.)
Celebrating One Year
Grounded Change
Are You Looking at Me?
Eye contact is a funny thing. I’ve just returned from a meditation camp during which we spent hours and hours staring into each others’ eyes. It was strange and tense to begin with, but delicious and strangely satisfying before long.
During a regular day at home, I’m deflated whenever the guy at the Tim Horton’s drive-through doesn’t look at me. (Tim Hortons is the iconic Canadian coffee stop for those of you from some place else.) I want to crawl through the little window and hold his face until he gets that it matters.
On the other hand, i’m unnerved by people who stare into my eyes for longer than a few seconds. ( Ed, for example, while he plays harmonica in my clinic.)
I wonder: Are we uncomfortable being seen fully and completely? Is that why we look away when someone continues to look into our eyes?
And this: Are we uncomfortable looking deeply and curiously, lovingly and lingeringly into the eyes of someone else? Why?
Our eyes are beautiful, and absolutely connected to the truest part of ourselves, whether you call that heart or soul.
Why don’t we try something together? If you care to, try more eye contact this week. Look and be looked into. See how it feels.
I’d love to hear what you learn.
Thanks, always, for the conversation,
kristin
Paranormal Yoga

Something paranormal just happened. It’s on par with that girl in the Exorcist spinning her head around and making that awful sound that scares the hell out of me more than two decades later. It’s on par with alien abductions and crop circles and the continued success of PopTarts on grocery store shelves.
During my practice this morning – I’m reluctant to say this – I liked Triangle Pose.
Don’t scream. It only lasted for about three seconds, until i realized I was enjoying it. When the shock hit, my torso seized, my hamstrings yanked, and it was all I could do not to collapse on the floor. No sounds came out of my mouth, there are no alien probes evident anywhere on my body, and I’m still certain I’ll never eat another PopTart. But life as I know it has changed.
I have loathed (just a second, isn’t “loathed” an extreme word? Yes it is, and it is no exaggeration) Triangle Pose FOR EVER. And ever. I did not see that changing in this lifetime.
What else can I do at this point but ask for your thoughts? Has that ever happened to you? With what pose? Is this enlightenment? Did it last or was it a one time thing?
Thanks to paranormal yoga for the shock of a lifetime, and thanks to you for the conversation.
(Yours in bewilderment)
Kristin
Kristin Shepherd is a chiropractor, actor, and speaker (about All Things Wonderful) in North Bay, Ontario. She may, for three seconds, have been as enlightened as the serene, blue lady pictured above. Join her (Kristin, not the blue lady) on the web at kristinshepherd.ca, on Facebook at Dr. Kristin Shepherd, and on Twitter at kristinwonders.
Your Bio in 6 Words
This game comes from Harriet Madigan of the Living Fit dynamos. Harriet got it from someone else. Thanks to all sources.
Here’s the game: Give us your bio in 6 words.
Holy exciting, Batman. I’d love to hear your answers.
Thanks,
kristin
Meditation Camp
Leaving the Circus
There are no plates spinning on my nose. There is no unicycle. No monkeys, except for my monkey mind.