At Home In Provence
A few days ago, I had the great pleasure of meeting Rodolfe and Monique, family friends of Estelle’s and her parents. Rodolfe was the contractor who managed the redesign of Estelle’s flat, and Monique cleans and cares for the neighbors who live across the hall. A friendship sparked. Estelle told me that I simply had to meet them and that I would have a heart attack when I saw their house.
Keep It Simple
I’ve enjoyed some incredible meals on this vacation. There was the traditional bouillabaisse at Nounou, the beautiful dorado at Bistrot du Port, and the cod ravioli with ricotta and leeks at Le Comptoire de la Tourraque in Nice. But I have to say that the meals I enjoy the most are the ones we make at home.
Pretty In Pink
Today was such a good day. We decided to visit the Bonnard Museum in a little town in the hills above Cannes called Le Cannet. The museum was featuring the work of Henri Manguin, a French artist who painted alongside Matisse and Cezanne. They say that all the greats came to the South of France to paint because of the amazing pink light.
Beach Day
I bought a lemlem before I left on my trip thinking I would wear it as a beach coverup, but one of my friends pointed out that I probably wouldn’t want to wear it to walk through town and down to the beach because it’s completely see-through. I packed it anyway hoping that maybe I could wear it around Estelle’s apartment. Then I got here and showed it to Estelle, who shook her head and said, “Bah, oui! Mais bien sûr que tu peux le porter! This is France!” (By the way, this is how we speak to each other: half French, half English.) So I put on my chic little beach coverup and proceeded to walk by at least a half dozen topless women on the beach, and it became clear that I was sporting the most conservative look on the French Riviera.
Le Premier Jour
Je suis arrivée en France! It was an easy trip. Surprisingly, I was able to sleep on the plane and so thankfully I don’t feel the usual hard slap of jet lag. Estelle picked me up from the airport and we were so happy to see each other that we started jumping up and down, clapping (I’m realizing more and more that I clap when I’m happy; sometimes awareness makes your life more uncomfortable because you’re now cognizant of that fact that you’re standing in the middle of an airport, jumping up and down, clapping). But I didn’t care; we were both smiling from ear to ear! I will have to tell you more about Estelle and our friendship, but for now know that she is probably one of the few people on this earth who truly gets me. We are cut from the very same (French) cloth.
La Vie en Rosé
Today’s the day I leave for what I can only describe as the trip of a lifetime. I’m headed to France for three weeks of vacation. You heard me. Three whole weeks (I know)! I’ve been fantasizing about this trip for a long time. I’m spending the first two weeks in the south of France with one of my best friends, Estelle. We’ll be staying in a little town called Golfe-Juan (between Nice and Cannes) at what was once her grandmother’s apartment—the place she’s been visiting every summer since she was a child. We have no plans other than to sit on the beach and drink rosé. Don’t hate me, although if I were reading this, I’d probably hate me (to hell with Sutra 1.33—cultivating an attitude of friendliness towards the happy can be such a tough practice). I then fly to Paris for the last week of my trip where I’ll be taking some cooking classes and meeting up with Billy for a romantic rendez-vous in our favorite city.
Self-Aware Self-Care
When it comes to self-care, there’s an unspoken expectation that it looks the same on everyone. We often seek advice from our friends, teachers, the media or the wellness community, and while finding the right practice requires experimentation, the truth is there is really only one cook in your kitchen. Genuine self-care implies a willingness to listen to our own needs and respond honestly. Self-care is not a one-size-fits-all practice; one person’s pedicure is another person’s Parivrtta Parsvakonasana. More important than which rituals you choose to practice is an understanding of how those rituals make you feel. Self-care requires self-awareness. Going through the self-care motions is not enough; we must be willing to think for ourselves.
Colleen Saidman Yee
My friend Colleen Saidman Yee has written a beautiful, powerful book called Yoga For Life. It’s a riveting recounting of her personal story interwoven with insightful and relevant yoga philosophy. Part memoir, part guide, this book speaks to the struggles we all face. I was so excited to talk to her about Yoga For Life, but really I wanted to hear more about the story behind the making of her book—specifically, the work she did to excavate and articulate her own truth.
Happy Spring
Can you believe it’s finally here?! It sure as hell doesn’t feel like spring, but I’m trying to practice patience (what choice do I have?!) and faith by cultivating the spirit of spring in my everyday life. After such a long winter, it’s time to look at familiar patterns and rituals with fresh eyes. The changing seasons remind us that transition is not only a part of life, but that it can inspire a new way of looking at ourselves.