The Year of Passion

3 years later

2014-06-19T01:28:00.003-04:00

As I watch the early night sky turn a brilliant spectrum of soft blues, pink, fuchsia and gold, I can see the hill of Oakland across the bay, window of homes tucked into the hills blinking and winking like tiny gils on a fish flashing in the sun. The air of course has turned its usual chilly self once the sun no longer kisses the surface around you, and as we all do, I wrap myself in a warm year round jacket, which never makes its way into a 'winter' closet. This particular one, I've rediscovered, a seaweed green fuzzy mangy thing by Mountain Hardware I bought from a blanket vendor on 16th street in the Mission past dark for $1, likely around 4 years ago.

4 years. 4 year. Wow, 4 years. Almost to the day, that's how long my traveling, vagabond soul has rested its happy, confused, passion seeking self, in amongst the indisputable vibrancy of San Francisco. I still have moments now, over 1,200 mornings later, where I wonder how long this will be, how long I will continue to rest and grow and live and learn and laugh and cry under this beautiful California sky. My oh my how my heart and fingers have longed to return to you. To you my orphaned journal.

I'm sorry for neglecting you, for wishing and wanting to write again for you, but have not, perhaps for fear of what would, or would not come out. When I first set foot here, and decided to "just stay" after a week-long conference in Monterey, I told myself, and told others who asked "how long are you going to stay? what's your plan?" I would say "as long as I'm having fun". Am I still having fun? Is it no longer just about me?

Between then and now, superficially much has changed, and I hope even more so, that much has not. It feels that I had lost my way for a bit, even here, in where was, is, or was, my passion core. And to many respects I do again wonder about what I should be doing. What is my passion? Am I living with passion now? What does passion look like? Is passion possible to maintain as a constant state, or does it ebb and flow like the oceans tides and birds in the air? In the midst of living a life of saying "yes" I've experienced so much more, all or none of which I would have predicted would be.

I've been inspired by many in the last 6 months, most of whom do not know they've made an impact to inspire, support, motivate me to revisit the art of written self expression. The art of expression through words and language and sentences which roll off the tongue, and those that don't. To soulful, thoughtful music during quiet times where one's mind can freely dive deep and glimpse what we hide, and feel safe to reveal what we see. Is that where true, raw passion lies? The perceptive layer of unknown or perhaps its really our true self which is waiting to be released. My gratitude is deep for all those in my life, and those I've never met who have led me back to you. With gratitude, the world is infinitely abundant. Thank you for being here. It feels good to back.

Early morning Manor...

2011-07-20T12:28:00.015-04:00

The piercing blue sky catches my eye even while in sleep. The brightness of July is in full tilt, as the unpredictability of any San Francisco summer graces us once again with her presence. It is not even 7 am, yet the excitement of the day causes me to peer between the curtains at the day's offering. I lay in bed in the semi-conscious state between sleep and wake – the time in which the previous nights dreams may come dancing through the mind like an impromptu parade of colors, memories, emotions and activity. I look out my 2^nd floor window onto the streets below, telephone wires streak the scene, but the big blue backdrop bursts through. I smile.

Today is Wednesday, my little slice of mid-week 'deep breath’. The day in which I have elected to dedicate, on a good day, to writing, biking, yoga, farmers markets, coffee meetings, exploration, growth discovery – the Year of Passion. Many weeks have past that I have not written a complete entry, however handfuls of half complete, mental downloading and ranting dot the hard drive on my computer. Days and nights where the meaning and search and musings of the YOP have been so clear, it would be a crime, and a self hindering sin, not to transcribe – even if their fate is to remain as they are; fragments of a life of passion in California.

I’ve returned to old stomping grounds, Haus Coffee. The 24^th street gem which holds the birth of one of my first YOP entry from SF. I sit in the window box facing the street on a tiny, simple wooden bistro table. Only a thin layer of glass and 2 feet separate me from the commuters, bottle collectors, coffee shop go-ers and others on their way to their lives pass in front. Part puppy in the window, part goldfish in a bowl, even above the hypnotic electric rhythms that ring through the space inside, I can feel the pulse of street. And I like it.

With the clarity that mornings often bring, after having ‘slept on it’, I recall the last few weeks and the dialogues, observations, notable moments, sights, sounds and people of inspiration that encapsulates the Year of Passion. Although the defining 12 months of the Year of Passion have come to an end, I’m left wondering what to entitle this journey to continue to prolong this thirsty search for a life of joy, excitement, love, peace and passion. A life with a healthy, abundant daily dose of gratitude for the simple things: a fresh peach, kindness of strangers, inspiring friends, riding bikes at the beach, the beach, the scent of eucalyptus in the air through the park, among other simplicities that which if left unrecognized for their understated blessings, fly under the radar in our enchanted lives...

One aspect of the YOP that has often drawn out a deeper contemplative, introspective side has been the colorful, inspiring, diverse people who populate the one’s universe. If home is where the heart is, and the heart is where love and passion begins, the creation of a home where inspiration, passion and love reside seems to be of the highest order, and one in which I have been particularly particular about. Having “lived” in more than 4 homes in San Francisco, surfed couches in 3, and resided in another 3 hostels, in the 14 months I’ve been here, my arrival to my current home, the 22nd Street Manor is truly a blessing.

Three months ago, Keith, the sustainable food loving, fire escape gardener with a passion for smart, sustainable urban planning, mapping his dog walking routes on an oversized map of the neighborhood, was accepted to MIT for a coveted spot in their urban planning masters program. The beloved household lady-mutt pooch, Ros the dog, and Keith departed the city almost 2 months ago – his 1990’s Toyota Previa mini-van loaded up with his collection of worldly possession and Ros sitting atop the mound as they set out for a 2 week journey across this vast country.

A bus pulls up and stops in front of the café. It is half full; I look up at the bus riders. They look back. Many have iPods in. I wonder what they are listening to. Where they are going. And following the breath in which our lives come in contact, they are gone. Carried away to their days.

Amy, the hard working half Canadian, half American science teacher with an infatuation with snowmen also moved out to live in a studio apartment in upper Haight.

Although only 2 months into living at The Manor…

….I now became the longest resident and the search for 2 new souls would be the task of Anne and myself.

Anne, the Chicago transplant who swims in the Bay (no wetsuit), speaks fast Chilean Spanish, and works for a non-profit helping to empower 1^st generation college students succeed in their education, is like a fire cracker of energy, motion and source of inspiration. She lives in the room with a wall of mirrors that sits next to the Spanish Pentecostal Church next door and our kitchen, both of which can be an audible force to reckon with. She bikes, is a feisty lady of anarchist beliefs, and cooks up a storm like a flash in the pan…pun intended.

As we set out to fill the 2 rooms, our Craigslist posting yielded many a reply for its affordability and prime location in The Mission (a rare combo in SF). With the luxury of an abundance of interesting, inspiring applicants whom in their response to our ad we asked what they would bring to a potluck, in true SF spirit, we decided to host said potluck party with all the applicants, and make it a social gathering of interesting souls. That night as the 10 “goodies” and their goodies piled into our tiny kitchen/living room, new connections were made, commonalities found with 1 or 2 degrees of separation and our 2 new housemates made themselves clear: Orlee and David.

Orlee, a Brooklyn transplant, moved to the city with her boyfriend last fall. They lived together in Noe Valley for some time, and now apart for some time for reasons in which my blogging efforts would do no justice to its complexity. A quiet, gentle soul with fiery edge, rides a single speed, is staring a gig at a tech company in SOMA (South of Market) in a few weeks and has an ever-present composed, collected vibe to her. She is grounded and grounding in her soft, contemplative mannerisms and has feng shui-ed the front room with a simple layout and cozy office nook in the bay window.

David, oh David. The man with the plan. David is a tall, fair boy from Texas, with the soul of a Moroccan and recent affair with New Orleans. A Fine Arts Masters student at USF in creative writing, David set-up his room, life and presence in The Manor like jumping jack flash. Within 2 days of moving in with not much more than a few suit cases and a couple of boxes of books, record, Moroccan tapestries and memorabilia from days abroad and Nola, his room became a complete home complete with Bob Dylan and Frank Sinatra spinning on the record player. His growing collection of short stories, poems and writings for both school and play, appear in email inboxes, kitchen tables and in spoken word while cooking. Free styling rhyming while cooking couscous and veg, bike riding to free concerts @ Sterns Grove and late night chats on the blue couch have made David a fountain of inspiration to the house.

The house is also now veggie, and mostly gluten-free (thanks friends). When possible, we cook together, bike together, buy in bulk together @ Rainbow. In the absence of blood family, and in wake of the ‘new family’ of friends coagulating Gen Y's across the world, we attempt share our lives in this household of perfect strangers gathered for our common lust and love for this city, this journey and this life of passion.

SIDE NOTE (which I could not, not include)

As I put the finishing touches of links and photos into the entry, a woman of about 70 years slowly passes on the sidewalk. She is moving inch by inch with a cane in her hand and a bus pass that drapes around her neck onto the soft rolls of her stomach. She looks at me and smiles while saying something to herself that I cannot hear for the jazzy piano saxophone music now playing in the café. I smile back in acknowledgement of her stopping to acknowledge me. She then lifts both her hands, cane attached to her left, to the sky and for a moment, what I assume is her giving thanks for this day, this walk, this sun, this warmth. I look up at the blue sky and green canopy of trees too. Yes. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this day indeed. Her hands come down and she continues to smile and send some kisses my way the way loved ones do when saying adieu. Adieu.

A Drummer, a Biker, a Financial Deal Maker*

2011-05-14T17:08:00.005-04:00

"A falling star fell from your heart

and landed in my eyes
I screamed aloud,

as it tore through them,

and now it's left me blind..."

Oh Florence, how romance and love can make anyone's heart and mind produce such aching images and phrases that cause us to declare the cosmos a mirror of our emotions. And more so, how lucky are we to get the chance to feel such deep love and…passion.

It’s been over a year since the Year of Passion was declared, and I find myself continuing the internal dialogue about living with passion. Despite the writing hiatus in the YOP since January, life in SF has been a rainstorm of activity spanning passion and exploration that would without doubt, fulfill the YOP’s mantra.

March, April and May is known to bring showers, but for this blessed spring of 2011, showers of a different nature have come. Showers of love and romance that come in such starkly different packages that I can not help but share it and yes, document it so that during those times when the tide is out and the waves are at a lull, that it can be remembered that passion is always there, and that the wave of passion and soulful love is indeed alive, all the time…and yes worth the wait.

Indulge me as I lay out this cast of characters who has spotted and claimed moments in my SF days and nights over the past 90 days…

There’s C, the 6’1” music teacher with cocoa skin, dread locks and a lead drummer in a metal band. We met last September, while walking down 16^th street in the Mission, days before my departure to India. We “made eyes” while walking with friends, mine had just come from tacos and Margarita pitchers @ Puerto Alegre on Valencia Street, and him with his friends en-route to a music show.

After we both did a triple take, he turned around to give me his card accompanied by a “please call me”. I did. Live music shows in the TL, cooking @ his place, art auctions, board games with friends, tea @ The Summit and misc. drinks around The Mission, C’s deep seeded love of teaching, learning, practicing and performing music it’s crystal as to what magnetized me to him – passion.

There’s R, the compact, small and lean SF native, whose fair hair skims the same height as me, manages the non-profit bike shop down the street. Having been the apple of my biker eye for a couple of months, our conversations about bike rides, bikes and handle bar wrap finally progressed to him asking me to go for a bike ride…and dinner. That was almost 3 months ago. R has been the most consistent of the bunch – with a weekend trip to Santa Cruz to watch a bike race he was in, then ride the Sierra foothills, an unknowing trip to his parents place, also in SF, on his birthday (yes, you read that double whammy correctly) and even a hair cut on the back porch with a cup of morning tea and freshly sliced oranges, R’s passion for biking and bikes (he has 11 of ‘em) unknowingly has inspired me to start to race myself.

Then there’s B-dig dig, the newest addition to the equation. A few weeks ago, while replacing a tire @ the Bike Kitchen, B and his friend, both newbies to the BK, left without a peep or hello, then came back to introduce himself and exchange numbers…hopefully. It worked. The tallest of the bunch, B hails from NY, has a rad white and blue vintage Nishiki, and spends his days in the concrete jungle of the Financial district in downtown SF. He’s sweet, uncomplicated and with an open-to-anything approach, is refreshing, even in this town of liberal minded, open hearted souls. What’s more, is that the teacher of newness in me can’t help but dance with excitement as each one of our meetings have included a new food type or activity that either he or I have tried before, including Pupusas in Bernal Heights, a trip to my fav organic, vegan resto Gracias Madre, South Indian and being apart of his first yoga class ever.

*Then there's CL, the freckle faced, Southern Cali native with a growing sleeve of tattoos, whose boundary pushing mentality, simple, conscious life choices to be vegan, yet also raise chickens at their coop house (for the egg egging non-vegans) near Golden Gate Park in SF, and active participation with the city through his work and volunteer time, has on numerous occasions, taken my breath away entirely. As I sit contemplating why, why, why this boy still has his spirit swirling around in my soul and mind, despite our decision to end the 6 months of on and off interactions, I feel perhaps there are no words for it, except, passion.

With each soul whose quasi-name has graced this post, I offer up the gratitude for their presence in the YOP and my life. One of my favorite aspects of this simultaneous exploration has been the absolute playfulness that we share. A return to the way in which children seek playmates for after school trips to each others houses, where the option of staying for dinner was never assumed, but rather an unexpected extension of a few hours together where getting lost in time with picnics in the park, climbing trees or riding bikes, I am FILLED with joy to say not much has changed since those days. Thank you for that.

So what is the common denominator with the Drummer, the Biker, the Financial Deal Maker…and the Vegan? Is there one?

Is it passion? Is it love? Is it me? Is it that each are pursuing passion in their lives in some way? Is it perhaps just coincidence that my interest is strongest for those with the most passion in their lives? I don’t think so. Everyday we have the gift to decide what kind of passion we invite into our thoughts and actions. Imagine a world where passion leads us all to in making almost, if not all, of our decisions. A passion for joy and happiness and love and gratitude for this abundantly blessed life we get to live everyday. Last week a yogi offered up a small nugget of guidance when it comes to how we can choose to make choices (and I certainly paraphrase here) “What kind of world would we live in if everyone was doing the same actions as the ones we make.” Interesting.

Taking a peek now at the YOP timeline, March 30, 2010 was my first entry and took place day dreaming about a fulfilling life, far away from the stale air of that 43^rd floor cubicle. When I think of all the places in which I remember life pre-YOP, it is that moment that serves as “The Beginning” image and thus resonates in my mind the most. They say words are only as powerful as the image they conjure-up in your mind. Perhaps this is why the art and love of a well-told story can capture anyone’s attention. So, thank you for listening to these stories of mine. And in the inspiring words of the indie flick “Happy, Thank You, More Please”….more please.

Perhaps that’s why the Drummer, the Biker and Financial Deal Maker (and Vegan) have captured more than just a piece of the YOP. Beyond a telling story of how we met or where we came from, lies inspiration and passion. Although the future of these characters in my life and their place in the YOP is certainly unknown, like children playing in the forest with the juicy remnants of wild blueberry on their cheeks, fingernails and jeans, I am choosing to approach each of these romances with the continued pursuit of joy, love and most importantly...

passion.

xoxo

And we're live...

2011-01-18T13:51:00.005-05:00

As my eyes slowly open, I turn in my Hot Sexiness sleeping bag, my newest comfort of choice and treat to myself at an Alite sample sale in December, to see the bright blue of a California sunny day peering through the off white cotton curtains of my newest abode. With soft orange walls that are spotted with uneven texture and a certain vintage feel, the 15 foot ceilings make the small-ish room seem almost spacious.

I moved into this, my second home, and fourth bedroom of 2011 last Saturday, as I had been staying in a variety of rooms at the Goddess Vortex (see "Home Sweet Yogi Home" the summer) since the clocks struck midnight for this new year.

New year. Happy year. What will it hold? There’s something that has shifted. Since the YOP blog has been on hiatus for almost 4 months, first for logistical reasons (internet joys in India) then upon return, a myriad of reasons which span a touch of laziness to perhaps the more truthful reason being of lack of inspiration, or dare I say….passion?

I am musing to myself about the fate of the YOP in a new neighbourhood café, Atlas Café on Alabama and 20th – just 2 blocks from my new orange lily pad.

Somewhat industrial, yet with the unique San Francisco, Mission bike cultured charm (I’d like to say half of those that have come in have their right pant cuff rolled up to mid calf level and a few Mexican workers hold down prep work in the open kitchen that doubles as pull-up bar seating, its casual atmosphere and bright single paned windows which line the corner it occupies offers a welcome infiltration of sun into the space.

At American Thanksgiving in late November, a true gluttony fest anchored in over sugared yams and cranberries for all reasons, I was asked by a former bon bon at the vegan (gluten-free) Thanksgiving potluck I hosted on the Friday of the holiday weekend, “What happened to the Year of Passion?” By that time, I had been back in SF for 1 month since my return from India, and had given very little thought to writing. Much of my time in India was spent writing, although in the earthy ink to paper way, in various locations around the city, countryside and waterways, in an unfiltered, uncensored way that we only write when knowing there is a slim chance that it will ever really be read…in life or post mortum. So when returning to land of the YOP, SF, the writer (and photographer) in me, was, like much of the rest of my senses, exhausted. With a hot hand, and hot shutter, I put down the laptop and the Nikon, and took in the moment, captured in my mind alone. The outcome? A twinge of guilt for neglecting the Year of Passion, but now even more of a desire for the introspective dialogue that only the YOP harvested in me...

It was during the beautiful, vegan Thanksgiving Potluck dinner, peppered with dim tea lights, warm smiles and many handles of Carlo Rossi vino tinto, it was my former Bon Bon’s sister who brought something quite clear to my attention about the state of writing: “I only seem to write when I’m upset, or unclear, or struggling with something – and much less, if ever when truly happy”

Mmmm. Had I stopped writing because, dare I even toy with the idea: I was truly happy? Had I achieved the year of passion? Here I was surrounded by some of the most inspiring, loving, warm, interesting, engaged, engaging people I’ve met and whom I care deeply for in a city I love for its consciousness, adventurous spirit, openness, vitality and living a life under a hot, liberal sun where outdoors and casualness is king. Had I arrived?

The idea was almost too novel, too real to handle. I had been 7 months since I had embarked on the YOP, tucked away in a cubicle 43 floors up in the glass jungle of full piece suits, dreaming about the freedom of sailing away on a little dingy in the sun on the lake. A lot has happened since then, and a lot has changed, but was I, am I, living the Life of Passion?

???

It's almost noon now, and am about to go for a lunchtime loop bike ride around SF with Denny, a new friend whom I met at a Clif Bar RSVP Facebook event in October (yes, I think I got that right & thanks Todd) and smile as the coincidence that this re-awakening entry about the destination and journey of the Year of Passion is at the ATLAS cafe, a place literally seeped in the idea of maps and charting of paths, routes and journeys.

Mi despedida a San Francisco

2010-09-19T12:53:00.015-04:00

"It seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know..."

I woke up this morning to a bright burst of Sunday sunshine, blue skies and the quintiessential manicured green lawns that exist in sleepy streets of the suburbs of North America. This time, I’ve landed back in Oakville to the familiarity of Mumsy’s modest bungalow tucked within the labyrinth of small, Pleasantville-like side streets in this notoriously excessive suburb of Toronto. This week of preparing for India has been a welcome blessing; providing stable lily pad of which to launch off of into the unknown of India this Tuesday.

I left San Francisco almost exactly 7 days ago, on a dark Sunday morning before the sun had even bridged the horizon. The big blue airport shuttle (BART wasn’t running at that hour) came to collect me as their last stop before the airport, totting a full bus load of sleepy eyed travellers to the impending departures at SFO....

My last weekend in SF, mi despedida, ended up being a grand adieu to the city that has begun a transformation in my mind, my heart and approach on life, and to what has helped bring the Year of Passion to a reality.

That last Friday afternoon in SF, circa 3 pm, I received a text from a new friend, Bryan, I had met that week at Ritual Coffee house on Valencia that previous Wednesday. I soon found out that Bryan is a San Franciscan native, born’n’raised, and thus a rarity in this transient city, who renovates Victorian-era houses by day and photographs musicians and bands by night. Not a bad combo. The text read: “Wanna go surfing?”. End scene. WHAT!??! Last weekend in California and am getting an opportunity to go surfing – POST WORK!!! My little heart could hardly believe it. Fast forward 2.5 hours, and the surfing plan has been kyboshed:

Friday afternoon traffic + setting sun = raincheck.

BUT in its place, a bike ride and ice cream at debatably one of the city’s most unique ice cream joints, Humphry Slocombe on Harrison @ 24th street. One scoop of Jesus Juice sorbet (aka red wine and cola) for me and a double scooper of whammy of Cayenne Cantaloupe and Prosciutto (as in the salted meat)

for B.man, before we made our way to Precita Park for a chit chat

before parting ways for the evening: I to my newly Friday tradition of red wine and friends and him to a shoot with some “picky and last minute” musician friends who were going on tour and needed some pics before doing so.

When it rains, it pours…Brian’s I guess, because soon after, I met up Brian, a former roommate and the Puerto Rican acupuncture student whose current living situation with a middle-aged Sci-Fi author and owner of 2 fat, old cats at a 2 bedroom flat on Treat Street has him hounding the pages of Craigslist for alternate "arrangements". The remainder of the evening consisted of a $4 bottle of wine, great convo and a plethora of ridiculously delicious, authentic Mexican food from La Oaxaqueña, a little gem on Mission Street @ 16th with amazing, authentic food, sweet smiles and a welcome BYOB policy (or in our case BYOW) policy. Pollo y mole (a cocoa/chocolate based smooth and salty sauce from the south of Mexico) corn tamale wrapped in plantain leaves...

a taco (bison, maybe?)and 3 Salvadorian Pupusas (a corn dough “patty” stuffed with anything from spinach and goat cheese, mixed veg to pulled pork or chicken)...

Thirsty for more, we headed to the infamous Café Revolution on 22nd and Valencia. With happy, tipsy souls overflowing onto the sidewalk and streets, the inside of the café was full and two spirited performers were singing, drumming and strumming Spanish music in the corner.

The minty cool of a freshly made mojito, my often-forgotten-favourite drink, complimented the warm air, smooth music and cha cha cha of the songstresses’ handheld shaker.

The following Saturday morning, my eyes were met again with sunshine, and the excitement and unease of fitting in a super Saturday to my last weekend in SF justice. Thankfully, it was not too difficult to do when surrounded by friends and great people, beautiful sunshine, an amazing city and positivity in your mind.

Waking at just past 8:30am, I attempted to finish up packing up – one for my bag to go back with me and another box (or 2) to reside temporarily at Lauren and Sean’s place. A bike ride, a spicy chai coffee @ Haus and trip to the Alemany farmers market with Karla, the capoeira dancing chica

from Puerto Rico who is a former room mate as well, and teaches new media at an inner city school’s after-school program. A few hours later, we collected Caleb from the house, and as the 3 of us peddled our way to Golden Gate Park to join forces with 25,000 spirited, peaceful people at the free Power to the Peaceful music and yoga festival happening that weekend in the park.

An annual event held on September 11, there is no cover fee, just by donation only, and this year featured a 5,000 person yoga session on Saturday morning, a main stage with 5 hours of non-stop music, including the cheerful Cali tunes of Michael Franti.

Just saw he's apparently also caught Obama fever too...

A San Francisco native, Michael Franti is an SF native and recently has been walking barefoot for 10 years to experience what 300 million kids who don’t have shoes feel like...

As we arrived to the centre grounds for the festival, a sea of people, beautiful music, plumes of smoke and rows upon rows of bike racks awaited us. You could honestly feel the energy as you approached.

After a sun soaked afternoon of dancing, hoolahooping, snacking and enjoyment, as the music stopped promptly at 5, the signature fog of SF rolled in and ushered the crowds through to their bikes, cars and sidewalks to head to their next destinations. Karla and I met up again with Caleb and Laura at Laura’s place in the Haight for a warm tea. I came home, made dins, finished packing and moved my bags, bike and self to the place it all began – the Goddess Vortex on Harrison – aka my old house, for my last night, although this night would be spent on the familiar cushions in the living room.

I took a shower 11pm, and in the spirit of seizing every moment, met up with Cliff at just past midnight, despite a 5 AM wake-up that morning for an 8am flight. A dreadlock-ed music teacher also born’n’raised in SF, Cliff and I met for the first time last Sunday, as we passed each other on the street in the Mission last week on a Sunday night.

That night we went to Karla’s recommended hole-in-the-wall dive bar The Attic at 24th and Mission. A vodka soda for me, a Jim and Coke for him, easy conversation ensued and his love of SF, teaching music and life was an eye opener as he brought to the forefront that despite a past of extensive travel, he’s loving life as is now, and couldn’t imagine moving anywhere else, such as some of his friends are doing. To which I replied, perhaps people are moving to new cities to try to find what you seem to have found – happiness, balance and fulfillment in the present. (Ok, I didn’t say that last part, but in reflection, perhaps that what it is.) It’s interesting because this conversation was the first one in a while of which someone has really been truly immersed and fulfilled in what’s in the present – not what has happened, or will happen, or coulda woulda shoulda happened, but what is NOW, present in this moment. Like a tall glass of water, he was refreshing, and the cherry on the YOP goodbye SF weekend.

India Inc.

2010-09-08T11:32:00.013-04:00

Last Wednesday, the morning started like any other morning for me in the Haight – the front room of Lauren and Sean’s place, aka my temporary bedroom, was slightly filled with the California morning light and the soft soundtrack of the occasional pedestrian or motor vehicle passing by played in the white air - except a few things were different. There were anxious butterflies in my stomach and bit of artificial haze in my mind. The first stemmed from the ensuing AM activities that I would embark on before the clock struck 9am, and the second being the pleasant reminder of the night before, the US launch party of the FAIR Vodk a - the world's first fair trade certified spirits company. I had been invited by Danny, the sharp witted, dead pan humoured Brand Ambassador of the Parisian brand I had met through a string of the usual 2 degrees of SF separation, and met the lovely French creator of the vodka, Alex, and his lovely photographer girlfriend whose pics are here...

And yes, I was there hocking Purity juice too...

But even the morning after giggles of sweet cocktails from the night before could not stop the rebel excitement that found its may to my core - It was Day 1 of the two week "What is Janum?" campaign. As the warm sun was rising in the East, my business partner Jules, whose living in the Mission, and myself, living in The Haight, hit the streets of our 'hoods marking the sidewalks with the hopefully-curiosity-inducing slogan "What is Janum.com?" with white sidewalk chalk. The intended next action would be:

a) spark conversation between friends, bus stop waitees, businesses and neighbours

b) drive people online to find out more and wind up @ our FB page for a 2 week puzzle chase of random video clues to keep them intrigued until the beg reveal on September 15...

Being the techie bubble that is San Francisco and the Bay area, the natural inclination to Google or Wiki even before the question is asked, we hoped people would pop online, and search "Janum" to find us at J anum.com or facebook.com/janumofficia l.

So that morning when I woke up before my alarm, excitement of this new (ad)venture could not keep me under the covers. I threw on my imitation yellow Ray-Ban Wayfay sunglasses to brace my red eyes from the morning glare, (and avoid eye contact as I began this graffiti with training wheels adventure) and headed out with a box of chalk and a kick in my step. Here's what happened...

I got as far as Buena Vista Park, (about 10 blocks from where I started) and having marked at least 25-30 spots on just one side, I turned around to do the other side. At the same time, I had started to notice an increase in cop cars, even for the Haight. I paused and went into a Tibetan/Indian/Asian trinket shop which beckoned me in - a very light preview of the weeks to come perhaps...

For just a few moments, I lost myself in the colours, textures, scents and mystery of the space. The small shop attendance was sharing a breakfast of fresh fruit, iced water with cucumber and nuts with 2 others who sat happily by the entrace of the shop, enrobbed in soft, breezy fabrics and calming smiles. Those smiles lifted my heart a little as i left to continue the Janum-ify the neighbourhood; although as the frequency of police presence grew, I skipped a block or two as I kept my eye out around me. Then I saw the mother load - about 5-6 policemen, and a cop car, all hovering around one block on the other side of the road where I had been not more than 20 minutes prior. It was a block that was dense with "What is Janum.com?" markings and they were all trolling around the area, looking down at the pavement then looking around - most likely for the hoodlum who was doing such an act of start-up madness...Excellent.

I arrived back home feeling energized and even more excited that something had gotten noticed. I picked up my camera to document the morning, headed back to Coffee to the People on Haight Street with my laptop in toe, and a couple bucks for a ice coffee with soy - yes it was even that hot that an iced coffee was in order...

This scene is much more familiar, a reality of my time in SF: Wednesdays @ coffee shops with myself, a caffeinated beverage of sorts and the company of a fellow young, eager and ambitious soul: Julian. Julian, a baby of the 1980's, was born in Holland, raised in England, is of Indian heritage, went to school in the Us and currently resides also, where else, but The Mission, SF. We met in June at Sustainable Brands - the catalyst conference I attended in Monterey about environmental sustainability which was really the tipping point for my residence in San Francisco. Julian had started Janum last year and was knee deep in start-up territory - but lacking a full marketing resource and extra set of hands to help bring Janum to life and give it a running start in the market. After an extended convo in the conference staff party on the last night of the conference, we exchanged cards and said would be in touch.

And we were, and have been since mid June, meeting every Wednesday for work sessions, marketing planning, brainstorming session, product planning and general life catch-up. In early July, Julian told me about his trip in September to India to visit the production plants, organic growers and finalize all the aspects of the supply chain including the product, packaging, shipping and logistics to Kerala, the South Western state in India. My interest was piqued..very piqued.

Since then, we've worked together to put together an intensely detailed marketing plan including the What is Janum? campaign and a strong social media plan laid out. What's also been laid out is....my trip to INDIA! About mid-July we both lightly joked about me coming with Jules to India to help with the filming, photography and marketing opportunities that would surface while visiting all these vital aspect of the business. That has now morphed itself into a 1/2 "work" 1/2 play 28 trip to the South Western part of India, where I will fly in and out of Mumbai...

Staying in the tiny, yet feircly popular state of Goa....

And spend time in the coconut farms of Kerala...

I leave California for the first time in almost 4 months to head back to Toronto for a week, have my Indian visa processed and pack a backpack with very little `stuff`(leaving lots of room for treasures to bring home). Then, on Tuesday, September 21, leave for London, then Mumbai on the 22nd. I will return to London, then Toronto, then SFO over 2 days starting on Tuesday, October 19. This will leave 28 glorious days in the land that am sure will surprise, delight, push and challenge my reality forever.

As I`m finishing up this blog entry, a song comes on Pandora radio, and who is it, but Alanis Morisette`s brother: Wade Imre or as his name comes up in the Google search: `Yoga Rock Star`. And even in light of the lack-lustre graphics of this video, the song seemed such a perfect fit for finishing this post...

So... What is Janum? For Salmon Rushdie, it means`my life`. In Hindi, Jaanum means darling. For the Year of Passion, Janum means opportunity, adventure, and further manifestation of a new way of life...

Love and Haight in India

2010-08-30T00:18:00.008-04:00

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress”
At almost 10 am, the streets of Haight Ashbury are slowly waking up. The sky is sapphire blue, bluer than any blue that I’ve seen before in this infamously foggy and overcast part of the city. The house was quiet when I left it this morning in search of a morning nook of inspiration that would do justice for this week’s happenings. After a short jaunt, I’ve found this mornings destination: Coffee to the People.

What feels like a neighbourhood coffee intuition, the classic guitar riffs and slow harmonica chords that accompany the idealist lyrics of “blue skies” and “burning love” on the tunes overhead could only be one person: Dylan.

A distinct hippy feel, this coffee shop not only touts being “the best coffee in the Haight” but also mirrors the vibe, class struggle and passionate, almost angry consciousness that the souls that have, do and will continue to inhabit this neighbourhood.

Today’s quote came quite clearly in the form of a bumper sticker preserved under many a layer of clear shellac on the peach coloured table to my right, although now temporarily inhabited by a man eating granola with soy milk, a glass of fresh organic OJ and on his Mac book browsing….Real estate? Yeah – I didn’t see that one coming either. Each table in the café, and there are almost 25 of them, are small collections of black and white images, articles and posters from times gone by reflecting the golden age and birth time of this neighbourhood: The 60’s & 70`s.

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress” came from the pen and lips of one of the most well-known social reformist in the US to document his time and escape from slavery: Frederick Douglass, as well as defend the suppressed rights for visual minorities and women during the 1800`s. Even 200 years later, his words are still chillingly relevant: from class consciousness to self discovery. Themes of justice, freedom, art, expression are still pumping through the veins of this ‘hood, but for me, the most striking aspect of my temporarily residence here has been in the culture and consciousness of the street people and artists (not necessarily mutually exclusive) of all kinds that paint, draw, strum, drum and beg for food or money with pride, respectively. Even the girl who is dressed in clean jeans and cotton shirt sitting against on the ground resting against a cardboard box, several sleeping bags, a guitar and backpacks outside the coffee shop is reading a novel by – Pablo Neruda, one of the Chile`s greatest gift to the world.

Passion is present in the Haight. Passion to live with freedom and as you choose in a loud and proud way. Being vocal about what you want, where you’re going, what you believe and how you want to go about doing so, is here. It’s raw and unapologetic and a great crystal to insert into the reflections, musings and contemplation of the Year of Passion.

Am staying with friends Lauren and Sean, a early 20-something couple who were brought together while studying abroad in Shanghai a couple years ago, and have since weathered the distance of her being in Buenos Aires and separate travels around the world. They have been subletting a room in a 2 bedroom, mainfloor apartment in an Edwardian Victorian home complete with a gorgeous marble signature San Francisco stoop perfect for morning, afternoon and nightly lounging and landlords that study drama therapy and theatre. The living room, my home for the past week and next 6 days, is like the suite of a museum of the Moulin Rouge. With a distinctly burlesque feel, the eclectic collection of antiques spanned the gamut including an antique baby grand piano, white painted fireplace, old black and white photos of seemingly unrelated people, a vintage seamstresses mannequin made from canvas, `wearing` a black top hat and lace vintage dress, framed posters of Italian films from the 60s, and Asian masks and sun umbrellas on the oversized mantel. All this, AND a large and overstuffed couch which has made a wonderful resting spot for my mind, body and soul as this transition continues as I remain `between`leases before leaving for India :)

Last weekend was a beautiful goodbye to my Mission oasis, Saturday was spent @ the Bike Kitchen learning how to repair the gear de-railer cord and housing and true the back wheel, wandering the Mission Street Food festival, dancing salsa under the afternoon sun to a lively 6 piece latin band on one of the off-shoot streets in The festival, and walking Valencia Street with a mango ice lolli chatting with Brian, the Puerto Rican acupuncture and herbalist. That evening, soon to be former room mates Caleb, the Michigan native astrologer and Karla, the youth art program Puerto Rican with an infectious laugh, biked to the newly opened Ethiopian restaurant Moya on Folsom. Remy, a 22 year old American born Ethiopian works with me at Purity Organic and comes into the office once a week to file documents, and her mother have opened this authentic restaurant in SOMA (South of Market Area) and she was working on Saturday night.

Tofu tibs, 100% teft anjara and other Ethiopian delicacies awaited us before we left to go see the live flamenco, ska and acoustic inspired Makru band perform at a 1 room art space in the Mission.

A Mexican 20-something with talent like Juileta Venegas, a Spanish box drummer, a short, dark haired bass guitarist who reminds me of a former Chilean lust Aaron, and others, compose this amazingly refreshing group of performers.

Sunday, although less tranquil due to the moving of my gorwing collection of “stuff” to lauren and Seans, culminated in an impromptu women’s circle meeting of the females in the Gooddess Vortex on the stoops of our purple Victorian. The Sunday afternoon sun was hot. The steps were asking to be inhabited, and we answered with Sangria, Gin and cucumber cocktails in Mason jars, and girl chats about boys, sex and…knitting.

Olivia, the early 20-something with the knitting needles in hands and 100 watt smile studies full time, and works almost full time at Scarlet Sage, the neighbourhood herbal shop on Valencia. Having attended the desert festival Burning Man as a child, a rare and unique experience for both child and parent, her mother is deeply wound into the world of recycling and waste management within the city and state.

The other Olivia, is a 1983 baby hailing from the culturally rich Aussie capital of Melbourne, Australia, has been a warm and welcome addition to the Goddess Vortex since her arrival with her equally lovely partner Heath almost 3 weeks ago. Both she and Heath are digital marketing folks who have hit the ground running since arriving to establish themselves in San Francisco for the next year. With her open mind, free flowing spirit and heavy hiking boots, Liv was sipping her gin & tonic spike with a slice of organic cucumber, while we dissected the “witty dialog” of the gin she had selected for her afternoon of Gin in the Sun.

So with a bit of a buzz, I headed back to my new home in the Haight, where I would continue with the seemingly endless internet dig into VLR of which I have been putting off in light of the sunny weather and blue skies. VLR being the Visas, Logistics and Reality of getting a US work visa, an Indian tourist visa and renewing Canadian passport - all at the same time. I am elated to say that at this point, despite the delays, all 3 are in the works to successfully be completed WOOHOO! Ok, so my original intent of this post was to share about India. More specifically -why. Why now? With who? Where? When? But alas, the sun is high noon now, the skies are still clear and this Sunday is calling my name. So India details will have to wait...until Tuesday :)

One sleep til the Haight...

2010-08-19T03:52:00.021-04:00

“The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”

Dear Mister Mark Twain poetically said these words many years ago, and after spending July and almost all of August in this notoriously chilly and seasonally undecided city, I can see why this phrase has met the lips of so many San Franciscans...repeatedly...this summer, as rumour around the water cooler (yes we have one), the taco trucks, and streets has it that it has been the coldest summer on record in over 80 years. Yum!

Cool overcast mornings of no more than 13 degrees, sprinkled with the expected mist of not-quite rain, not-quite fog, and an evening chill that makes ice cream seem out of the question (only SEEM). It operates almost like a light switch - somewhere around 6 or 7pm, any warmth seems to disappear and vanish all within a breath; often mirroring the quintessential sign that autumn has arrived. Ah autumn: the season of change, of new beginnings, of shedding previous layers and preparing for the next phase of growth. Unconsciously, the Year of Passion is right on track.

With just one more sleep til until my 10 week sublet is complete at the Goddess Vortex in the Mission, this Sunday, tomorrow, I move out and begin 3 weeks of in transient yet familiar couch surfing...aka the return of bag lady status.

Although this time it will be spent predominately with some newly made friends that are extending some kindness to a not-so-stranger. The 75 days that I have spent at this heart-warming and welcoming space, has opened my eyes to so many new ideas, thoughts, theories, ways of life, people, foods, experiences, dances, art, relationships and more. I am grateful for this time spent here, although more signs than the seasons are saying that the Year of Passion marches on in exploration of new pastures of inspiration.

In honour of the mini-journey and personal growth that has occurred while here, starting last Monday, I’ve decided to challenge myself to “go” 100% raw vegan for 1 week. Sometimes seen as a cleanse, the “Raw movement” is the consumption of only uncooked (or to the max temp of 106 degrees) unroasted foods, and definitely an emphasis on local, organic too. Fresh fruits, veg, greens, raw seeds, nuts, dates, fresh herbs & vinegars are fair game. Enter: Cashew “cheese”, sunflower pesto & the cornucopia of farmers markets colours....

In preparation, last Saturday’s trip to the Alemany Farmers market on the other side of Bernal Heights had my backpack brimming with 2 kinds of char, basil, 4 variety of figs, apples, dates, long beans, mustard greens, cabbage, and baby yellow heirloom tomatoes.
Room-mates, former and current, Adri and Caleb have both been advocates for eating a raw vegan diet, as the nutritional content of foods is higher in foods that have not been cooked and since raw “living” food contain live enzymes, your body doesn’t have to work as hard to digest, giving you much more energy to do other things – such as go for a bike ride, play Frisbee at the park, or even plan a trip to India.

So in the spirit of going big or going home, I’ve dived right into this nutritional experiment starting off by sprouting lentils and making sunflower pesto garlic paste. Both involve soaking sed seeds for at least 12 hours in order to help bring the seed or nut “to life” – the water being a signal that it should “come alive” in preparation to germinate, or sprout – but in my case – to be eaten. Poor things never had a chance against my hungry eyes…

A sense of rawness is not only what I’m putting in my mouth and body this week, but is also a sentiment that am feeling as a result of this week`s inevitable and foreseeable conclusion of what I might even call a passion-filled romance. Within days of arriving at this blessed spot in the Mission, I had the joy of meeting one of the most interesting, and complexly layered companions I’ve had the opportunity to explore on a level that has been dormant in my heart for some time.

A fast and strong connection, followed by a loving and passionate lust made this recent decision to separate a difficult reality to admit. Looking back upon this collection of unique moments of unspoken understandings and connections between the sheets and on the streets, my heart feels a bit raw, if not only for the mourning of the end of simply something beautiful that was. But this has come full circle at a time of other endings - the summer, the Goddess Vortex, and perhaps even the honeymoon of a living in a new city, even one that still captivates my heart at every new turn.

This finale in the heart department that I`m experiencing is slightly comforted by the fact that perhaps this is clearance time for not just I. Accompanied not only by the quintessential introspective, melodramatic songs of ColdPlay and Dave Matthews Band that continue to play on my Pandora station, I`ve learned of two other ladies, both within close degrees of separation, who are have also closed similar chapters this week with their San Franciscan lovers, lusters, companions...

But as the curtains fall on Act 1, an intermission ensues, followed by Act 2, Act 3 and then a whole new play. Act 1 @ the Goddess Vortex has been everything I’ve dreamed of my intro to Cali and more.

Organic juice company job, farmers markets with the most succulent fruit and vegetables that make my eyes dance with excitement, naked yoga in the sun, raw vegan food diet, purple Victorian home in an urban oasis nestled in my favourite colourful neighbourhood that is filled with raw life, lazy afternoons in Dolores Park, experiencing a Women’s Circle in Berkeley, a beautiful new road bike and an even stronger love of urban cycling, a legendary gay pride celebration in the Castro with new friends both gay and bi, hiking with Couch Surfers and friends amongst Sequoias and Red Woods, putting Sweat Equity into an SF start-up with the Dutch-born Indian Coconut sponge Julian, impromptu sing-alongs in the kitchen, back porch and stoop, biking the Golden Gate, art crawls in The Mission, passing passion-filled outdoors murals everyday, speaking, seeing, hearing Spanish everyday, drinking too much wine, passionate nights under the peace flags on my room, and countless “Is this really happening?” moments.

This intermission period begins on Sunday, when lovely Lauren, a 20-something lady friend who is newly transplanted from Boston to SF will be hosting me in her delightful Victorian house right off of Haight for some days.

With the intransient nature of these next 2 weeks, passion ponderings and musing are bound to surface, as will with the planning of the Year of Passions next stop beginning of Act 2: India.

Webster's got passion?

2010-08-15T00:59:00.008-04:00

Made using the blank canvas space of the bottom of a fresh produce box, written in simple blue pen, the make-shift sign read “Free Relationship Advice”.

A young man, no more than 25 and no taller than 5’7”, was accompanied by a taller, warm and smiling fellow, and both were gentling asking people if they would like some free relationship advice while holding this hand-made sign up in front of them.
We were in line for the Free Farm Stand on 22ⁿ and Treat Street (yes that’s a real street name, although its definition is rather indicative to this days activities) in The Mission. Every Sunday the colourful souls of el barrio, of all ages, shapes, sizes and backgrounds, come together to receive the weeks cast-offs from farmers who will be returning back to their farm, preferably sans last week’s harvest’s offerings.

After intentionally overhearing these free farm stand prophets share their young wisdom preaching honesty and choosing reality versus games, I couldn’t let this opportunity to engage these two thriving gentlemen in a conversation about passion. A deliberate act to engage in this discussion about “What is passion?” So when our eyes met, and was asked if I would like some advice, I politely declined, and as articulately as I could, explained the Year of Passion, asking instead for their thoughts on living a life of passion. They politely accepted.

This became one of the handful of intentional conversation of this exact question from the past 10 days, all of which provided some intriguing food for thought in this feast of a journey to discover passion.

Last week on a bike ride home from a cheap and cheerful dinner at The Citrus Club in the Upper Haight,

which just happens to be home of my favourite gluten-free orgasmic orange veggie concoction, I confessed out loud the thoughts to travel with no more than a backpack and blind faith, that had been burning brighter and brighter this past week.

It’s the instinctual reaction that arises from within usually at even a whif of regularity. Or is it routine? Complacency? Stability? I've been in the city for just over 2 months now, and already the travel pangs. What gives?

By definition, life is good. Work is going well and am enjoying what I'm doing; as is my living situation, roommates and even some Bon Bon romantic tenderness sprinkled in. I adore riding my road bike everyday is this enchanting, hilly city, am blessed to eat delicious, healthful, organic foods regularly, and am meeting some of the most interesting people that even the most talented writers could not piece together. Relationships are being started and nurtured; from acquaintances to friendship to romances and all the indefinable kinds in between. Life is good. Yet the questions still remains:

Where’s the passion?

In the midst of getting set-up here and seeking for exciting, unique, boundary-pushing experiences and people (a notorious Vanessa-ism) partly fuelled by the desire to deliver juicy blog-worthy content, I perhaps have lost sight of the original intent of the YOP. The pursuit, the discovery, the journey to passion.

Webster says that passion is

1 a (1) : emotion (2) the emotions as distinguished from reason b : intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction c : an outbreak of anger

2 a : ardent affection : love b : a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept c : sexual desire d : an object of desire or deep interest

Emotion without reason.

Intense.

Overmastering feeling.

Ardent affection.

Sexual desire.

Webster, I never thought you had it in you, but I like it. I like that a lot. But how does one ignite that within themselves to live it and not just feel it with isolated events. Or is it something that when you find it and have it, it isn’t about igniting it, it is just about living life – with passion already woven in?

In search of living, breathing thoughts on living with passion, one turns to who else but the people in the free farm stand handing out relationship advice. Dana and his partner were intrigued and excited by the challenge to try to define what living with passion is. Dana said that for him, it would be to try to find some aspect of passion in all things that happen in your life – there’s passion underlying in everything, we just need to unearth it. So, it was interesting to hear his response to “So are you living a life of passion?” He replies “No. Not all the time. It’s tough.” Interesting. His partner answered the question with a comfortable, calm smile with a calm “Yes”, he was living a life of passion.

Recently, others have shared with me their thoughts on living with passion too. One has said to approach the acts in your life with a fervent, passion; everyday. From the small actions and the life changing ones – would this mean that if we put our full mind and intent into each act we do, passion, or an “overmastering feeling” or an “emotion without reason” will be created?

Learning from others who are already living with passion seems like an obvious stepping stone in the YOP, yet I can’t help but wonder, for those who are living with passion, was it a conscious quest for them, or was it a natural, honest connection to their passion that they’ve been listening to and guiding their decisions all along? Furthermore, without the explicit conversation, how does one know they are in the presence of someone who is living with passion? Although am unsure exactly on how to articulate the je ne sais quoi that is emitted when in the presence of passion, but like your gut has instincts, it exists and is something to be said about surrounding yourself with passion to help open ones senses to find and recognize their own.

I'm listening to some of my favourite introspective blog writing music as am enjoying getting lost in the musings of passion...

Interestingly enough, the title of the song contain the Sanskrit words Sat Nam, which Wikipedia says "not to be mistaken for Satya" the Sanskrit word that loosely translates to truth.

Truth, eh? In relating this to the YOP, I can't help but wonder: Can passion exist without truth? I’m not so sure it can. Would that then imply that one must be true and in tune with themselves to live with passion? So perhaps included in the definition of passion is also truth and the courage to be truthful in one's pursuit of passion.

Woah! Musings overload! This is a journey and thank you for being here share to share it with me.

Home Sweet Yogi Home

2010-07-27T00:48:00.014-04:00

It’s just after dusk. Am sitting on the top step of the wooden stairs that wrap around the back of the house listening to the soft latin rhythm of Maná, one of my favourite Mexican exports (which may or may not be tied with my love of the corn tortilla that are rampant of the streets of The Mission)

Three floors up I am watching as a body of peach-tinted clouds roll in from the west, a wind that rarely ceases to make itself known. With this feature also comes with the nearly infinite number of scenes that emerge and transform each second overhead. The sky is barely aglow with the suns last rays, as a gradient indigo charcoal wave settles in. The orange and yellow speckles of the lights of houses in the distance on the hillside begin to appear in the background and create a backdrop mimicking a playful LiteBrite. The Year of Passion is becoming an active and powerful force truly guiding this journey of self exploration, experimentation and an opening of the mind, and hopefully the eventual release of that which causes disconnect and narrow vision.

An influential aspect of the laying of these thin, hesitant roots has been my new home, which has proved to be one of the most open, welcoming and expanding places of which to lay my head at night, gain inspiration and energy to approach life.

An ad on Craigslist looking for a roommate in a “Conscious Household”, with a vegetarian kitchen , a drama-free environment and a colourful collection of roommates, was what brought me to the Goddess Vortex. Carter, the girl subletting her room responded within moments of my first email. As I sat in the massive common space at The Green Tortoise hostel near San Francisco’s China town, I nibbled on the free breakie of fresh oranges, pineapple and banana - shamelessly returning to the fruit tray for more. That morning, determined to cease paying $35/night at the hostel and prolonging the inevitable of finding a real place, the next three hours I spent combing Craigslist for interesting flat-share ads, hoping to find not only a “nest” of inspiration to compliment and realize the Year of Passion as it begins to take shape, but also something that would allow me to grow, experience more, feel more, meet and connect with likeminded souls. Oh right, and it had to be furnished, available today and within my very limited internship stipend budget…no simple task in a town where the typical cost of a decent shared room in a decent neighbourhood is $700 minimum and you'll be competing with 5 other prospective rentees for the room.

Motivation to do so was evoked from carting my limited belongings (in a overly stuffed wheely bag) from 2 hostels over 3 nights – 1 at the Pacific Tradewinds Hostel, the hostel pet project of one of the 28 year old American boys that started HostelWorld.com. With its steel-framed-anti-creaking bed bunks, 4th floor sans elevator and community feel, this was the hostel of which I had interviewed for to do a work-exchange: 24 hours/week for room and board. And I would have done it too, had the internship with Purity Organic not come my way. The other 2 nights were spent at infamous The Green Tortoise Hostel- known for its rowdy party scene, seriously adventurous trips to the dessert, beach, forest and being an SF staple for the under 30 travel crowd.

One of the first replies to my search for apartments was from Carter. Her voice was happy and hopeful, genuine and kind. Her room was in an enchanting Victoria house opposite a lively Park in my beloved barrio of The Mission. She had already left for San Diego and needed to fill her room ASAP. I would see the room that afternoon; Caleb her room mate would meet me there and show me the room. I took the metro, or BART to 24th Mission stop, walked 6 blocks to the address and fell in love with the idea of calling this walk, my walk home. I found the house, and it lived up to its image and story, even more so than I had imaged.

I rang the bell and down came Caleb, a smiling bearded man with slightly ripped jeans, a casual vibe, and soft demeanour.

The faded Tibetan peace flags draped across the entranceway of the door (as well as variations of such in the bathroom and kitchen), the handmade sign at the top of the stairs saying “Take your shoes off - stay a while”, and collection of sketches, paintings, art and photography scattered throughout the space like an Italian mosaic made this purple Victorian mansion seem like one is stepping into a sacred place; vegan raw foods, astrological contemplations, performers, body works, artists, herbs, elixirs, acupuncture, cashew cheese - this was all very new territory and it scared me.

Like the new kid in class, I wondered: could I fit in here? I enjoy yoga, was once vegetarian, have an open mind by many standards, prefer to sit crosslegged to eat meals and like to experiment with food - but am a novice when it comes to Eastern philosophy, chakras, astrology, alternative healing and the list goes on...

I tossed with the idea for the next 24 hours, keeping the YOP at the front of my mind. Here is my chance to embrace much of what is San Francisco, follow through with my desire to live more cleanly, clearly and with intension – so why was I afraid? In the name of the Year of Passion, why choose fear? Keeping in mind a quote that resonated with me, I felt now was the time to put it into motion: “Fear is just excitement that has forgotten to breath.”

So I breathed. That was almost 4 weeks ago, and my time at la Casa de Yogi has opened my eyes, mind and heart to a world of new souls, delicious vegan cooking, a slower-paced, multi-sensory home where whole food is cooked slowly, nothing is wasted, fresh fruit and vegetables and combinations of flavours, textures and ingredients that were almost unthinkable come together in the cast irons pans, wooden cutting boards, the beloved slow cooker, and dehydrator in a family based atmosphere. Conversation of astrology, Venus, Saturn, Moon rising, philosophical musings, laughter and silliness are commonplace as the cushioned floor around the 4 x 8 ft table a mere foot off the ground create an open space to come together.

It’s a cast of intricate souls with stories and tales to rival a storybook, one of which am so glad to be apart of. People come and go here, sublets, friends of friends, those that spend the night, kids of room mates and those just passing through town needing a place to crash, it only makes sense that they could find solace and probably some vegan food, at the House of Yogi.

Technically, there are 8 of us at the moment – in a 5 bedroom apartment – on one floor, with one kitchen and one bathroom.

The back yard has a beautifully kept colourful garden of edible treats such as kale and chard, as well as wild purple popies, Californian wild poppies, iris orchids, roses, sunflowers and a others of whom are lovingnly cared for with homemade compost and a green thumb of the downstairs neighbours. The back steps are lined with pots of seedlings gaining new life, growing experiments from avocado seed, herbs and other green treats.

My room looks onto the street side; the large bay window takes in the afternoon sun like a cat basking in the 3 o’clock sun.

The room warms about 5 - 10 degrees and the encompassing warmth and light makes the room glow with positive energy, the rainbows of the hanging crystals, and oasis-like retreat space in the city. The walls are tapestry hangings, costumes and photo’s from last year’s Burning Man festival, (the 3rd biggest city in Nevada - Black Rock City, with a population of 50,000 people is inhabited for 1 week of the year then disappears again without a trace...), pics, paintings, and art of nature, family and friends. Collections of rocks, shells, and many juice plants fill the nooks and empty spaces of the room. The thin glass windows invites the world of the street into the room and under the covers as conversations on the stoop below float up with perfect clarity into the space. Authentic, raw and well-loved, this is good.

My direct room neighbour is Adri, the 22 year old Costa Rican body works instructor and lady shaman of sorts whose brown wavy hair, deep eyes and skin with several earthly tattoos and a flowing wardrobe of soft, natural and figure hugging often involve a and harmonious flare. Despite her young age, she embodies a strong sense of self, is an incredible creator of vegan salads with leafy dark greens having been massaged with oils and flavours.

Caleb, the astrologer, and philosophy masters student, is a fellow Scorpio and someone I have connected with over the past month through culinary learnings, experimentations, sharing of meals, ideas, and conversations of close to near everything. A man never short of words, or inspiration for cooking, he's a the culinary scientist behind some of the most delicious, labourous food I’ve ever tasted.

Homemade chai almond milk made from soaked almonds, coconut milk and a medly of chai spices to compliment a slice of gluten-free, vegan chocolate cake so decadent it would have dazzled even the most sceptical of meat eating, wheat-loving Texans or Albertans. Oh, and don’t forget the coconut, walnut and banana-ed icing to encompass the dense brownie-like cake.
YUM! This particular cake was to celebrate his daughter’s 12th birthday. Caleb’s 2 kids, Nebraska - 12 going on 22 and Revelation or Rev for short is 7 going 17, grew up socializing at their parents’ vegetarian coffee shop in Michigan, who have come to stay for July.

So that makes 8 of us, in a 5 bedroom flat.

Then there’s Karen Light, the miming actress who works at a tea shop, has hair like Rapunzel, long and blond that goes beyond sweeping her tailbone, and literally lives in the closet. Her “room” a mere 5 x 7 ft is the former closet, complete with wooden dowel to hang coat hangers still intact, and with one small window that looks to the tiny center atrium in the middle of the house. Her delightfully artistic girlfriend Coi Coi is from Colombia and commutes by unicycle. Their closeness and tenderness is inspiring and uplifting.

Laura lives in the back room, which receives the most glorious morning light, and with the reflection of the newly painted house directly across from us, she is a free spirited silk screen artist, whose bicycle inspired prints on tees are candidly unique and captivating. Having spent 6 weeks at a Buddhist temple in Nepal a few years ago, she has returned to Ithaca, NY for the next 6 weeks to work at a Body Mind retreat centre in northern NY. Before she left, she took this photo from her room with some delicious grapefruit from the farmers market she worked at.

She can also be seen picking wild blackberries with her friend and studio space companion Kazoo on Bernal Heights. For the record, after a particularly fruitful (pun intended) Sunday of wild blackberry picking, Kazoo made several pies and sold slices of it in Dolores Park – the iconic weekend-picnic-hipster park in the city (and also one of my favourite spots in the neighbourhood to soak up San Francisco, nature and reconnect with a slower pace and the book I'm reading at the moment: Cradle to Cradle)

Recently a new friend told me after some recent posts from the YOP blog, that he observed that there has been an increasing amount of content about the people, the characters in the YOP, and perhaps not as much as personal musings and contemplation about capturing the passion and the journey of the YOP; especially after today’s post.

The thing is, I just can't resist sharing the stories of these colourful, eclectic characters that have come in and out or stayed in my life, and even some of whom I get to share this home, this neighbourhood, this city with. Unknowingly, they not only have become an instrumental part of my grounding in San Francisco, but also contribute in continuing to grow my mind and the impact and journey of the YOP. Their subliminal teachings in openness and exposure to new thoughts and approaches challenge and push my current shifting reality, and at times it even feels like I'm consciously feeling these shifts happen during my once unconscious decision process. Those thousands of decisions made out of habit, routine and thus ease of the process; are perhaps coming to the surface to be remolded into something more true and insync with what it is, who it is, where it is that I'm to be. To be.

This is the peach tree dish of spiritual experiments and what the final result is, am excited to not know, but will most likely prove something beyond any realm of my thought in this moment...

or at least one could hope...

GRACIAS MADRE!

Harps, Hikes & Home in San Francisco

2010-07-14T11:18:00.008-04:00

Home. What a concept. What does it really mean? We know its not just bricks and floors and ceilings with leaks and creeks and other miscellaneous idiocynracies that can stick in our minds like honey dripping on the side of a glass jar. This week has been a revealing week about creating a quasi homebase foundation in a new city. A new city with a transient population, where everyone is either just arriving, just leaving or decided to “just stay” because, you really can be who you want to be.

This song came about 2 Saturdays ago, when San Francisco was “baking” in a delicious stew of “hot” sun and mild winds (aka 23 degrees delicious). After a lazy sleep in, a friendly room mate Brian, and an even friendlier Mission neighbour Matthew and I enjoyed some eggs with kale, tomatoes and red peppers and a coffee on the back porch of the Goddess vortex…aka my house.

Brian is a Puerto Rican acupuncture student at AIMC in Berkeley whose father from NYC, has adorned him with a hint of Puerto Rican on his neutralized accept that certainly doesn’t scream latino (as if the name Brian didn’t already do so). A musical man at heart, he recently came home with a vintage brass trumpet from a yard sale, then 2 days later, a small gorgeous wooden harp, his musical A.D.D, as he says, serves the household beautifully as just 1 day later, I awoke to the sound of his new harp being played down the hall ---almost a surreal awakening.

Matthew, a Colorado native with a heart of gold and smile that glows when making a cameo, works for Transfair, the NGO that certifies Fair Trade – he’s on the coffee, wine and beers side, although once referred to himself as possibly being a “peon” at an NGO.

(I mostly noted this last part as I like the word “peon”) A travelling man, has studied in Paris, worked in Ghana, and among other neighbourly invites, was my local host 2 weekends ago for the infamous Pride festival with his fabulous visiting friend Jeff.

After a hike up Bernal Heights that afternoon, I came back to the ranch to sun bake a bit, read the paper, and apparently join Brian in a sing-along to this song “Home” Which subsequently has been stuck in my head as the default track on the ibrain while riding my bike to work. Bernal Heights is the neighbourhood just a few blocks south of mi casa and named after the grassy-topped hill that divides Mission & Bernal Heights with Outer Mission on the other side, and provides a spectacular view of the city. Lucking in for a sunny day, the views from the top were blissful point of view of this enchanting city...

After a toss of the Frisbee at Precita Park, I returned home with no plans for the rest of the avo, but perhaps the reading of a book in a park, the paper on the back staircase or even a , or even a blog post musing about the flurry of activity with the YOP. The latter option was what happened, until the sing-along with Brian that is.

And as I begin to let my mind follow its intention and will, I am faced with the occasional moment of stillness - no plans, no net, no default activity to distract as I continue to set out each day to lap up this life of growing honesty and sincerity of what passion looks and feels like for me. At times vulnerable and feeling rather exposed to the whims of seemingly insignificant occurances, its amazes me that even the kind smile of a passing stranger can re-instil a wavering blip in self-confidence. No deposit, no return. Smile at someone and they will smile back. Amazing. Say good morning and you'll have one in return. Amazing. Amazing how maybe anything we're looking for could be realized if we just provide it first. mmmmm.....

Home is a strong word indeed, and has nothing to do with where we put our bed, furniture or keep our possessions...inevitably there's too many of that in any case anyways. Making a place feel like home, become home, or serve as the landing pad of safety, doesn't happen overnight, not even really over weeks or months. However, like all delicious parts of life, its a journey, a relationship that changes and evolves as we exchange time and energy while rotating around the blazing sun. I've been at the Goddess Vortex for over 3 weeks now, and am realizing more and more each day, that making a home requires patience, an exceptance of sometimes feeling alone, the openess to look far beyond previous horizons and yet to still listen, with a soft ear, to the voice of our own soul.

So although it’s taken me a few extra days to post a long overdue entry about mi casa stay tuned on Friday for a deep look inside the Goddess Vortex, the colourful souls that create this urban oasis and the revolving door of characters that are making an appearance in the Year of Passion…

Stinson, Sacramento & Is this really happening?

2010-06-27T12:45:00.018-04:00

These past 10 days have been epic for the Year of Passion, even more than I would ever have been able to predict in such a short time. In a discussion with a new friend on Sunday about the YOP, it was becoming more clear that finding passion, or love, or happiness, that it really is a pursuit. An active choice to seek it out and nab it when you see it, feel it, and go with it. Living in the moment and saying `yes`. This new twist of thought would explain why, in this transient city whose average resident stays for just 3 years, life is getting busy. Full, and beautiful...and busy.

Picking up from last week’s whimsical decision to just stay in this enchanting city, I was couch surfing with Shaun, in his bachelor pad show-room apartment in the Mission District. A vintage sign in his kitchen caught my eye and loved it so much. Apparently this phrasing was an excerpt from what the US govt recommended during WWII...

His neighbour had lent me an undeniably beautiful road bike to take the city with, and that I did. A bike so beautiful that on one ride alone, I had 3 people comment on it as I was passing by. Exploring even the industrial zones of the south eastern edge, (not necessarily intended, although got some interesting shots of piers that were artfully neglected), this bike introduced me to the beauty of gears on hills, and how they aren`t as bad when not on a 1 speed cruiser...

It was last Thursday morning, and as I awoke for the 3rd time on the leather couch of Shaun’s. I mused with the prospect of what to do with myself until my 5pm meeting Rachel, the Program Director of the Business Council on Climate Change of SF…or BC3. Exploring the city by bike often comes to the top of my list, and so after spending some customary time online looking for jobs, replying to emails, reviewing a fresh batch of photos taken, I went for a beautiful bike ride with the intention of ending up at Alamo Square (aka where the Full House pic is taken)

It would also mean I would get to navigate “The Wiggle” – the specific bike path that leads cyclists on a round-about way to climb one of the steepest hills in the city. Although I must confess I got lost on the way to it, it was still filled of new sights to see, parks to admire, hills to conquer and seemingly hidden streets full of colours, character and quirks to discover.

That night, I met Rachel right at 5pm at the SF Environment office downtown. Rachel is a 20-something who I was put in contact with from the lovely Sarah Rea in Toronto whom I met at a local food event in May of this year. BC3 is a Not-for-Profit association that connects “San Francisco Bay Area businesses who are committed to reducing their green house gas emissions” through events and leadership groups. Composed, articulate and knowledgable, Rachel had an intern position of which this was supposed to be an interview for, however she filled it just the day before, as they really wanted someone full-time and right, did I mention it was unpaid. Mmmmmmm……curious situation when the going cost to rent a room in a shared house of 4+ people is $700/month.

In any cease, I was a bit bummed about not getting the job (if one could even call it that) however, the upcoming week would far trump that small snag-ooo and further illustrate how "everything happens for our own maximum happiness."

The weekend was filled with a coffee turned overnight roadtrip to sleepy capital city of Sacramento with a new friend from the conference: Tom Tom. TT hails from one of SF’s sister cities of the north – Seattle. With an open mind and heart, and regimen of meditation, yoga and vegan food, I admire his resilience and pursuit of joy, not to mention the fact that for the last week he was rubber camping (aka sleeping in his car) at various locales along the coastline of Highway 1 all along the west coast of Cali before heading back up to Seattle.

In Sacramento, we did what any visitor does when in Sacramento:

a) try to find where Arnold lives

b) go to a country bar.

Although we didn't event attempt a Mr. Schwarzenegger hunt, or knew any of the steps to the country dances at the country bar, I did find myself having one of those "is this actually happening?" moments. You know that instant when you stop and think about the random happenings that lead you to where you are at that very moment, as is most likely a bizarre concoction of fateful openness that lead you there.

That Sunday was delightfully full of fresh air, blue skies, open waters, Sequoia forests and grassy hills with some familiar faces from the couch surfing (CS) community. A group of 9 of us met at Stinson Beach for a 7 mile hike on the Dipsea trail which encompassed beautiful views, beautiful smiles and stories, and made it so utterly clear why Californian's seem to be hooked on nature.

After the hike, we refuelled at the beachside café and relaxed on the soft sand and cool waters of the Pacific Ocean for an hour or 2 until pilling into Jason’s truck to head back to the city for an Alt-Country show at Parkside bar, SF's self-proclaimed Dive Bar, and Salvadorian Pupusas in Bernal Heights.

Having checked out of Casa Shaun's, I had no official plan on where to stay that night, but was finding solace in the notion that of all groups to find somewhere to crash that night, an CS meet-up would be ranked quite high, so left it to fate to have it play out. And it did - in the form of Jason, a PhD science student/CS host who had driven Bob and myself to Stinson that morning. He shares his Bernal Heights flat with a newly wed French-American couple (a mere 22 and 26 years old), and 2 kittens with tiny bodies and heads whose motion resembled that of bobble-head figurines. I was given the front Parlour with the south facing bay window overlooking the street and view of the hills. Yum!

The next day, Monday, June 21, I would really begin my bag lady status. The next 4 days I would tote that sturdy little nugget of a wheelie bag from Jason's to the laundry mat to coffee shop, to hostel to hostel then to our final resting spot (until the end of August) at least at what I lovingly nicknamed: The House of Yogi. Home to 5 unique souls: an astrologer, a body works instructor, an accupuncture student, an actress in a mime version of Alice in Wonderland, a science student, and me...we are all nestled in a big, beautiful, purple Victorian house in the Mission. My room looks onto a park and is just steps from the latin grocery and hipster coffee shops on 24th...

Ay que rico!

I feel so incredibly blessed that in the same time that the earth has rotated the sun just 10 times, this tiny world of mine has grown to encompass so many beautiful souls from all over the world. Generosity, kindness, acceptance, openness and joy just begin to describe the some of the memories that have imprinted themselves into my life, and left a permanent mark on the YOP.

Riding the best wave in San Francisco…

2010-06-17T18:05:00.006-04:00

To the jazzy horns of vintage jazz, I have found a loverly perch on 24th Street in the bustling, tree-lined avenue of 24th Street in Mission District. With its eclectic mix of indie coffee houses, taquerias, Latin grocery shops and the infamous street murals on any spare canvas space, the Mission District is ripe for musings of the Year of Passion.

While wondering 24th, just blocks away from my couch surfing heaven (more on that later), I am now sitting at a small pine table, no more than 2 x 2 feet, in the sunny window box of HAUS Coffee Shop. Complete with freelancers and life wanderers with MacBooks, headphones and minimalist style to match the 2 tone simplistic ambiance of the 15 ft ceiling loft space.

Riding this rollercoaster of YOP limbo, and desire to remove myself from the hostel downtown, in the name of the YOP, I decided to try Couch Surfing (CS). Having been a member for over 2 years, and yet to host or surf myself, now seemed like an opportune time to dive right in (pun somewhat intended). The concept is simple:

a) Register at couchsurfing.org

b) Search for hosts in the city you’re going to be in

c) Find a goodie

d) Send a friendly note seeing if they would host you

e) Get a reply

f) Surf away…

So on Monday, I sent 2 notes to 2 people that seemed an interesting match.

1) A fellow Vanessa, who has yet to reply (somewhat common for CS),and

2) Mr.S, a cyclist with an interesting profile, French Canadian language skills, and shaggy salt’n’pepper mane.

He wrote back and 2 days later, I found myself on the doorstep of a lovely 1st floor apartment.

A CS host who must have read my mind, when I walked in, was preparing a quinoa and curried chicken dish with homemade tzaziki and green bean salad and listening to Sublime (I believe). Friendly, warm and open, we chatted over lunch and later introduced me to a not-so-hidden aspect of the local cycling communite: Bike Kitchen. A DIY bike shop in the area is 1 part loft/industrial space, 1 part cycling advocacy HQ, 1 part build a bike repair centre and 3 parts amazingness.

He volunteers there, and before I headed to a CS picnic at Dolores Park, he help tuned up his neighbours road who I am borrowing for a few days (and yes I have fallen in love with it, and even the hills of the city). Events and gatherings are another aspect of CS and this picnic just the right dose of internationality to get my motor running. Joining a friend from the hostel, Bobby, the Manchester native with a keen wit and love of poker, particularly after a 16 day stint in Vegas with his mates, the group of open souls hailed from Russia, Abu Dhabi, and of course Canada, England and folks from the Bay Area.

After the sun set, (and the thermostat dropped at least 30 degrees – no joke) we headed to Taqueria Cancun on Mission Street. Although highly rated in travel books, the tacos were decent, but the free corn chips and cheap price ($3.00 for taco supreme) helped.

And now for today’s mission:

a) Write contacts made at Sustainable Brands 2010 – particularly coconut sponge guy Julien

b) Go to interview for an Internship with San Francisco Environment (the enviro arm of the City of San Francisco)

c) Snap some shots of Mission District

d) Go for a cycle around Golden Gate Park

e) Go to StumbleUpon Anniversary party downtown *

*this last one’s debateable.

Do what you love and the rest will follow…

Open the golden gates

2010-06-14T02:07:00.008-04:00

It`s another cool night in San Francisco. I`m sitting in the 3rd floor common room at the Hostelling International (HI) Downtown San Francisco location. A dozen or so Gen Y guests are all sitting separately, faces aglow from the reflection of their laptops sitting where else, but on their lap. I am one of them. An indie acoustic song is strumming on the speakers, you know the type, the one that you can`t help but maybe internalize if you take the moment to listen to what the melody man is saying. Today`s miscellaneous music moment is singing about the concept of home, which brings me to my very next update. I wrote the below entry a few days ago, and am posting now. This week shall be an interesting one, and will be sure to post best-of pics and stories....

"Cali has got it going on. Sitting on the temperate, clean and wide-windowed Express public bus from Monterey to San Jose in Central California, the inspirational speakers, stories, concepts and environment at the Sustainable Brands Conference is beginning to permeate. And now is the time for action.

It was day one, Monday, and I was manning the not-so-bustling Info Desk at registration. A fellow from Citizen Group named Michael (middle-aged yet kind and chatty in a not-so-typical US American way) asked a question – of whch I have forgotton. Between chatting about cycling and him living in Merin County “just over the Golden Gate Bridge from San Fran” it came out – “Well I’m moving to San Fratncisco…” Mmm – interesting V. Where did this come from? (Please note that last exchange was internal dialogue) Then before I could stop myself, I told him about the Year of Passion, and he loved it. He gave me his card, and went on his way – although naturally given the size, nature and length of the conference, I would see him many times afterwards as well.

It got me to thinking – why wouldn’t I do this? This conference is really the perfect catalyst and energizer to explore the first big step in the YOP. AND with the connections made at the conference, it would only make sense to stay close the 80% of attendees in efforts to partner, intern, work, create (or all of the above) by being in San Fran.

I can work at a hostel in exchange for accommodation, volunteer at a yoga studio to further my spiritual, physical and mental journey, and meet, connect and play with this new eclectic crowd of San Franciscans. I can practise Spanish daily (already have used it daily in regular exchanges) but even more so in the colourfully latin Castro and Mission District and further my relationships with people met this week to work towards a job that fits the bill and allows me to.

This is beginning to look like a beautiful first big YOP step…

And so, my dear friends, at this point, that is the plan, the next step. So, starting today, updates about the YOP will be coming live from the West Coast of Cali – San Fransisco!

"So what's the plan?"

2010-05-30T22:14:00.017-04:00

"The sun is shining, the weather is sweet..."

Toronto has been sun-kissed for the past week and despite the ambiguity of the Year of Passion (YOP), I have returned to the waking-up-smiling state of mind. I'm not entirely sure if its the freedom and time to do yoga almost everyday, take my time to meet with friends for overdue coffees, lunches & dinner meet-ups around the city, rabbit hole my way around to incredible job opportunities, or a combination of the above which screams flexibility, but it's been wonderful. However, the gig is up - aka my rented flat is up at the end of the week, and the YOP is still TBD.

Back to Oakville (aka Mum's place) to re-group & decide? mmmmmmmm not so keen.

Fly to San Fran, California area to volunteer at the largest Sustainability focused conference in the Americas? mmmmmm yes please.

My first meeting of San Fran occurred much after Danny Tanner, DJ, Uncle Jesse and the Full House crew graced our TVs back in grade school.

Actually it was last May while taking a short hiatus from corporate Canada where I found myself in the liberal-minded mecca of San Fransisco with my favourite sibling-o-funpack: Christina (happy taco on the right) & Laura (super fries on the left) Hug.

San Fransisco's colourful neighbourhoods, authentic Latin American food, easy-going west coast style, sunny personalities, and daily nudity lived up to Cali's rep for being open-minded and free-spirited.

Visiting the uber-green campus grounds of Stanford in Palo Alto (a mere 30 minute C-train ride out of San Fran) I was blown away by the outdoor living, cycling/longboarding culture and outdoor lectures we saw take place on just a typical Monday at this progressive uni.

And like any memorable trip, there is usually at least one song that instantly evoke the memories of that trip. This time around, although so overtly cliche, we embraced it...

...and apparently the charm of this little ditty isn't restricted to non-Californians. So after 5 days of annoying the organic tofu out of each other by singing & humming this melody, you can imagine our utter disbelief when we were walking the grounds of Stanford and 2 longboarders come around the bend belting "Californiaaaaa, here we coooooome..." No joke.

Love. I love this place.

Now, it is the Year of Passion that is what brings me very south and very west of Toronto, and back to California. It's called Sustainable Brands, and is a 4-day conference with over 500 Sustainability professionals, that link up annually at this conference to learn and educate; inspire and be inspired; network and socialize with their fellow partners in crusade for sustainability in business. Held in the seaside town of Monterey...

I will exchange 20 volunteer hours throughout the 4-day conference, for an 85% discount on the $US 2,400 delegate fee. (I am a sucker for a great deal after all)

Departing this Sunday, June 5 on an 8 am flight to San Fran, the infamous Christina Hug and I will take a ride share (from the Sustainable Brands website) to Monterey down the infamous Big Sur highway 1. (And here I thought the song Big Sur was just a funny name for a funny song....Oh Vanessa...)

All the California references aside, this conference includes a gala dinner @ the Monterey Aquarium, an evening networking session on the beach (complete with bonfire) and all the leaders in the sustainability world coming together for 4 days! GAH - Amazing!

This just has all the right ingredients to make a Year of Passion cupcake, and I can't wait to take a delicious bite.

Oh right...

FOLLOW-UP from last week's post about further dream jobs:

1. Grassroots marketer position@ Patagonia in Ventura, CA (Remember that one?) I applied last week and got a quick response: "Thanks but no." Humph.

2. Yoga training in Bali + Andrew visit in Jakarta = Plan B after Sustainable Brands

New ones on this week's hit list...

3. Co-Director at The Otesha Project: Cycling for Sustainability in Melbourne Australia

What is it? `..NGO that offers bicycle tours and educational programs to engage youth about sustainable consumption. Using theatre, multimedia, and interactive workshops, Otesha (Aust.)’s creative focus provides a unique approach to understanding environmental and social justice issues, enabling youth to become role models and sustainability advocates.`

4. Harvard Green Program Coordinator at ummm, Harvard in Boston

Year of Passion...how I love thee.

xoxo

Staycation kick-off...

2010-05-17T12:29:00.008-04:00

"You came in with a breeze, on Sunday morning..."

Yesterday was an epic day with good friends, new foods, cultures, locations, sunshine and a fresh mind...all in my own backyard: Roncesvailles, High Park, Parkdale, Trinity Bellwood, Kensington & the quintessential sushi in the Annex. Ok, so it wasn`t quite in my backyard, as the official measurements of the yard of my townhouse shared with 3 other eclectic souls in the St.Lawrence Market district of Toronto might be 15 x 20 feet (without the shadows), but you get the idea.

Nothing says loving quite as well as being a tourist in your own town - so at 9:30am bright and early Sunday morning (complete with `proper footware`, backpack and extra large camera...)

Care and I, my tiny tot friend with a wit sharper than a set of Cutco`s and love of science, set off on the queen street car to Roncevailles: the up and came westend hood of TO known for its Polish food, proximity to High Park and yummy mummies

Once arrived at the sunny spot of Ronce, the tree-lined off-shoot streets of Roncevailles border this `so-Toronto`street of indie cafes, grocery & flower shops, Polish delis and delights, sprinkled with a hint of catholicism as those in their Sunday best emerge from their weekly hommage to the big guy in the sky...

Walking just a few blocks West, we find ourselves in Toronto`s take on Central Park - High Park. Delicious detached from the city core, yet linked at the same time, our stroll through this urban oasis is greenalicious.

We emerged out the north end of the park, strolled along Bloor West, then back down Ronce stopping to have a Polish lunch of Borscht with sour cream, egg and dill, then east on Queen alllll the way home to Care's place on Church and King.

What an incredible way to welcome back the sunshine, and also clear the mind for this week - playing the waiting game to hear back from Leith & Jochen re: SFA Project Assistant. (aka dream job at Von Trapp house in Salzburg, Austria)

Here are the facts:

Wednesday, May 12 - 30 minute Skype interview with Leith in Chicago

She said I did "very well" and very sufficiently answered the questions about why I want the job, staying diplomatic, maintaining relationships and communicating with different groups of people
My communications background is a strong advantage
They are really looking for someone with "charisma" to engage and get the SFA off the ground
There are 5 or 6 total short listed candidates - all of which will have been interviewed by now (last interview slot was Sunday)
She and Jochen will let all candidates know by Wednesday of this week @ the latest of the outcome....

Less than 72 hours and counting....

PLEASE please please send your positivity this way :)

xoxo

.. . . ...connect the dots.. . . .. . . . .

2010-05-16T18:18:00.001-04:00

"Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish"

-Steve Jobs @ Stanford grads

Last night I watched a video of Steve Jobs, the mastermind who created Apple computers and never graduated college. He was addressing a graduating class from Stanford in 2005. He tells 3 stories: "Thats it. No big deal. Just 3 stories."

The first was about why he dropped out of college, how typography on the Mac originated. He closed that story saying:

"Believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you confidence to follow your heart."

Second on how cheating death changed his life and how

"remembering that you are going to die is the way I know to avoid the trap of feeling you've got something to loose"

His third and final story was about getting fired from Apple and how his "love" for what he does has allowed him to overcome public humilation, rejection and temporary defeat. He finished that story saying

"YOU'VE got to find what you love. And that is as true for work as it is for lovers....the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you beleive is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle."

It was on TED.com, (the TED Talks website) which has recently become my "go-to" site if craving some good ol' multimedia...not to mention to be inspired/entertained/educated. Looking deeper, I found their description of what they hope to achieve at Ted Talks:

"We believe passionately in the power of ideas to change attitudes, lives and ultimately, the world. So we're building here a clearinghouse that offers free knowledge and inspiration from the world's most inspired thinkers, and also a community of curious souls to engage with ideas and each other."

Wow. What a delicious concept, and final product no less. I know this is not new for many, but wanted to share, especially since passion is built right into their model of success...

2 weeks notice...to Salzburg?

2010-05-05T23:38:00.008-04:00

"This is one for the good days

and I have it all here in red, blue, green"

Toronto was blessed today with an unseasonably balmy summer day of 25 degrees. Waking up before my alarm to the birds singing (yes that's right - the non-pigeon type do exist in the city), all to the blue backdrop of a spring's morning sky and red brick of the neighbours house. As I peddled me and my favourite blue summer dress into work, feeling the warm air on my skin, and wind in my newly blond-y locks, I smiled at the opportunities that currently lay on the doorstep. Excitement and adventure is on the menu and I can hardly wait.

Monday was big. It was the first real big step towards the YOP. Lighting the fuse as I see it. I gave my 2 weeks notice. No job offer in hand, no plans made, no solid next steps: which one might be able to imagine could be anxiety inducing for the typical risk averse crowd at a Big 4 Accounting firm. Can I get a "Hollaaaa"?

But amongst the ambiguous quasi plans for the future, there lies one that has captured my heart and soul, am beginning to feel like Charlie with the Golden tickets - although in my case, am unsure if the ticket I've got is just a raincheck for passion, or if this is it:

It's called the Sustainable Futures Academy (SFA) and its in Salzburg, Austria.

I would be Project Assistant working closely with one of the leading minds in environmental sustainability, Leith Sharp: the women who 5 years ago, started the Green Campus Initiative @ Harvard and has established herself as one of the leading minds the global environmental sustainability arena.

So last Saturday morning, I had a ridiculously positive first interview over Skype with the Director of Education at the Salzburg Global Seminar (the NGO that is starting the SFA): Jochen. Born and raised in Germany, very close to the Dutch border, Jochen and I chatted for almost 2 hours about the SFA, and what the Project Assistant (me!) would be doing. And the short answer is that it is EVERYTHING I envisioned as an ideal vehicle for the YOP:

a) international and global work environment

b) focused on the environmental sustainability - and at the level to have real impact

c) working with a small group that are passionate, forward thinking and energized about how they spend their days

oh and did I mention I would be living, working and staying at the same place where Julie Andrews & the Von Traps lived in the Sound of Music???

And I quote....

"Located just outside of the heart of Salzburg, the original 18th centrury rococo castle lies like a jewel in a dream-like setting. It looks back at a plentiful past as a birthplace of the Salzburg festival and location of the world-famous film "The Sound of Music." The castle is American private property and hence not publicly accessible. Only guests of the house may enjoy the pleasure of 11 suites in the castle or 55 rooms in the Meierhof."

If successful, I would find myself in Salzburg as soon as my UK passport comes back from Washington - ETA June 4, 2010.

I'm short listed with 2-3 others Jochen tells me and am awaiting an interview with Leith this week - then 1 short week after they will inform who indeed has the golden ticket.

Send your positivity this way and I promise you an amazing time at the Von Trap mansion!

xoxo

Eat, love, surf?

2010-04-20T23:10:00.004-04:00

"You have a right to your dreams, and don't be denied..."

Ben Harper

This week's sunshine fest has made it challenging not to want to spend every waking moment lapping up the Spring time's warm rays. The clear skies have even continued through the evenings, where for the past 2 nights, after I've turned my light off, and climb under the covers, what do I see peering at me with a grin on its face - but the bright white crescent moon sneaking its way through the tiny 2 inch space between the silk curtains and the window frame around them just next to my. What a serendipidous alignment of the stars...literally.

So on that note, I couldn't help but share a delightfully serendipidous find of an opportunity to combine some of my favourite things: surfing, photography, chatting with travelers, oh and did I mention it's a surf camp in Bali?

starsurfcampsbali.com

They're looking for someone to help run the camp, a Tour Assistant, for July & August, and within moments of reading the description, I applied to dear Sami, Joe & Pablo to consider my application.

Now we play the waiting game...

But until then, if you're craving some surf action, check out this head-cam video they put together...this was indeed jaw dropping...

An Arab, a Canadian and a Mexican walk into a bar...

2010-04-18T13:18:00.006-04:00

While living in Chile, I met an odd, but seemingly kind young man name Walter. At the time I knew him, he was 25. Walter used to work in Dubai as a real estate developer, but had a inescapable awkwardness about him; perhaps due to the fact that it appeared that there was always something he was holding back from saying (not in that romantic comedy kind of way where at the end of the film he confesses his love to the "girl next door" character and blah, blah, blah. No it wasn't like that)

I got to know Walter more in my search for Chilean real estate investments, and he introduced me to another eclectic character in my growing group of contacts in Chile: Max Mills. Max was a short Chilean man who lived in a house he built, on a piece of deserted, beautiful Chilean campo. His house resided on a small cliff overlooking a gorgeous private beach of perfect surf waves, wild horses and endless miles of contemplative Pacific ocean. Max and Walter were business associates of sorts after meeting on A SMALL WORLD "ASMALLWORLD is private international community of culturally influential people who are connected by three degrees." (oooh, is that me?) It's also invite only, and one only acquires the ability to invite others by participating in the site. Needless to say, I do not have any invites to give out.

But Max did, and after a lovely, and kind of strange day together with him and my partner in business, life and experience, Adam Boszoki, at el Portillo, longest running ski resort in the America's, he must have felt I was "ready" for an invite....weeeeeeeeeee! Here`s a pic of Adam y yo at Portillo...

Now, you may be wondering - what`s all this got to do with the Arab world being transported to Toronto? Well, about a week ago, I received a message from my ASW mailbox from a young, rather dapper looking fellow from Saudi. He would be in town for a week visiting his Dr. brother whose doing his residency at St.Mikes Hospital (Queen & Victoria), and wanted to meet up with some Torontonians for drinks or what not.

Not being one to turn down a fellow solo traveller, I replied and last Friday, we met up the Yorkville pub The Pilot. Arriving in a pink dressshirt and cashmere grey sweater, he was down to earth, chatty, and great company really. His neutral-to-American accent threw me at first, as did his lighter eyes and skin, but being half serbian-half Saudi, Mo was raised in Saudi, but went to uni in Nashville, Tennessee five years ago. Now working for a an oil and gas company, his extensive travels and use of ASW to meet locals while abroad has proven a wise travel companion.

A couple glasses of red, a SteamWhistle, and Keith`s later, my new Arabian friend picks up the tab and thus begins our evening of club hopping and his re-awakening to partying with alcohol after a 6 month hiatus of being in Saudi. A fan of the convenience of cabs, I abandon my bike locked to a Toronto bike parking `lolly-pop`:

College street bound, we meet up with Amelia Velasco, my Mexican biking friend, and her friend Latoya and become the epitome of Toronto melting pot: an light skinned Arab, a tanned Mexican, caucasian me with my multi-coloured hair, and Latoya with her long dark braided black hair and dark skin - LOVE IT! Getty Images would have been all over that...stock photo heaven.

We party our tushes off at College Street Bar as the beverages kept flowing, compliments of Saudi hospitality - aka Mo. After an hour of maning the dance floor, we bid adieu to Latoya as she caught the street car East, and Amelia, Mo & I grabbed a cab once more to head to the Bay Street Crowd`s retreat of Brant House. The Arab prince paid for the cabs, the drinks and the cover, and I was beginning to feel like an Arab princess...would this what living in Dubai would be like? mmmmmmm

Arriving at around 1 am, the customary end-of-the-night meat market was in full swing, as the guys who haven`t pick up yet were on the prowl.; an attractive attribute...really. BUT the dance floor was semi-empty, leaving us plenty of space to shake our bon-bons....and we did `til 3am. Awesome night team...

Now, how does this experience work with the Year of Passion? Well, seeing as this is my first experience:

a) meeting someone from ASW

b) hanging out with someone from Saudi

c) discovering a new helpful travel nugget (aka intl friend finder of ASW)

I thought it worthy of the YOP - Torontonian style.

And to tie us over until the official YOP journey begins in mid June, I`ll make this blog a `best of`` travel blog from past experiences from around the globe, complete with some of my fav pics and characters from The Book of Job, I mean Vanessa.

Thanks for tuning in...

xoxo

To rabbit hole...

2010-04-11T10:25:00.009-04:00

"Would be nice if something made sense for a change"

-Alice

It's a sunny Sunday morning, no more than 10:30 am, and am sure the neighbours are waking from their Saturday night slumbers. My mind is a bit foggy at the moment, and not just from the one-too- many cocktails last night at a house party in the "up and came" Leslieville. As I sit cross-legged on the couch in the living room, I look around at the room. It's a not-so-organized chaos; odds and sods of second hand furniture, random art and wall hangings, even a velvet sitting chair of an unfortunate shade of mustard sitting ready at the kitchen table. The counter is askew with remnants from the housemates' late night, post-bar, gorge-fest...even the blender is making a cameo. Sipping peppermint tea in an attempt to neutralize the gluttony of food and drink from last night, I find myself "rabbit holing" for the catalyst for starting the Year of Passion (YOP).

to rabbit hole [rab-it hohl]: The active art of internet exploration, where one follows an unknown path of links and Google searches to uncover new sites, people, places and organizations doing noteworthy activities

Origin: Alice in Wonderland

The fruits of this search are emerging slowly, but am struggling with deciding on the criteria for the search. Where should I start? What should I do when I'm there? How much should I budget? Should I budget? Should I plan this, that, anything, everything, nothing? OR have the effects of a highly regimented, organized, planning-obsessed life complete with the 9-5 job stunted my ability and inclination to wing it more or less? mmmmm...

In any case, here are some of the contenders or sources for what the YOP catalyst could look or feel like:

a) WOOF (Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms): "WOOF is a world wide network - It started in the UK in 1971and has since become an international movement that is helping people share more sustainable ways of living. In return for volunteer help, WWOOF hosts offer food, accommodation and opportunities to learn about organic lifestyles

For the NZ branch, there are over 1,200 host listings and some include working at a surf camp on the south island, running a small B&B or backpackers, and of course, quite a collection of sheep farm work.

b) Idealist: This was a whopping product of rabbit holing. I came across this super helpful international job/intership resource (which has strong social cause twist) as a result from a really shoddy, barebones, out-dated library of adventure travel jobs links library. Essentially, "Idealist is a project of Action Without Borders, a nonprofit organization founded in 1995 with offices in the United States and Argentina. Idealist is an interactive site where people and organizations can exchange resources and ideas, locate opportunities and supporters, and take steps toward building a world where all people can lead free and dignified lives

c) CIDA internships: International internships for graduates of uni in Canada - some super interesting opportunities such as this one: Eco-Tourism and Environmental Specialist / Spécialiste de l’écotourisme et de l’environnement in Peru: which I would be all over like rice on beans IF it didn't require "strong oral and written spanish" Somehow I feel my conversation Spanish wouldn't cut the la mostaza

d) Travel industry- Under this beautiful umbrella, there's working for the facilitator (Butterfield and Robinson, GAP Adventure Tours, TREK, etc) or travel photography or travel reporting or a beautiful mix of all of the above: Flight Centre's The Best Travel Job Ever...which of course made this short list.

GAH! And the search continues...

Sailboats on the Sea

2010-03-30T23:54:00.015-04:00

“Gonna rise up, find my direction magnetically...”

Perched 41 stories above the cool concrete and sea of dark suits and crisp shirts, I can't help but feel a bit like a cat basking in the sun in my lil' cubbie by the window. The South facing floor-to- ceiling windows makes the occasional moments of daydreaming quite the treat. Today is one of those days. In my 30 second staycation, my mind wanders past the immediate surroundings of Toronto's Financial District and the world of corporate marketing and obsession with e-blasts, all the way to the mass of slate blue lake in the not-so-far-off-distance.

I can't help but grin to myself as I see a triplet of little white sailboats emerge and almost dance around the harbour with visions of the summer to come, SURELY on their heads. Like tiny white flags signalling that the end is near, my smile creeps wider as that means the journey to begin the Year of Passion is fast approaching.

So as I begin the countdown to the exit from my pod-in-the-sky office job, I’ve begun the ultimate commitment to make this dream into a reality – opening my big gob and telling the fam, friends and some trusted colleagues.

Reactions have been a mixed: 1 cup some skepticism + a dash of concern + peppered with quite a few "Why New Zealand?"s and all wrapped up in a wildly supportive oven of loooooove.

Mum & Pops are onboard with ambiguous plans of return, although I will miss having my dear mumsy so close, she's a mere 25 minutes by train from where I am now.

Andrew, my increasingly risk-averse law-school brother, and his partner Janique had 2 priceless expressions on their faces when I shared the news (merci Skype).

Next up - my two sisters Kim & Lara, extended fam overseas, and of course: work.

AND...To those who have connected with me in some way with your thoughts about the whole kit'n'caboodle...WOW! Your kind words & support have really touched me; I just hope I can deliver the luscious and mind-expanding experiences I've been touting...crap.

In any case, here are some of my fav reviews (for better or worse):

· "Sounds good, but maybe just don't tell them [your work] about the whole "Year of Passion" thing..."

· "I´m very happy for you Vane...normally people only complains about how boring the job is and almost no one does something about it."

· "I'm sure that while you're out chasing passion, it will chase and find you too..."

I guess that’s the thing about dreaming, musing, pondering, debating a new idea or plan…it’s a lovely distraction that can easily float away; just like the wind in the sails of those boats. However, when we speak up about it, we make it real. And thank goodness that is the case, because at the end of the day...

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

decisions decisions...

2010-03-23T21:47:00.015-04:00

"Make your next choice, be your best choice"

From the moment our eyes open in the morning, to the instant they thankfully close shop at the end of the waking hours, thousands of little choices pulse through our minds, all with the very real ability to alter the outcome of our lives. Although unlike the Choose Your Own Adventure kids books (LOVED those growing up) we aren't able to see what woulda, coulda, shoulda happened if we chose differently - we must simply do it.

So with that, some choices of my own are being made to help put a backdrop to The Year of Passion. A stage of sorts that will naturally serve up opportunities, experiences and those intangible moments of understanding, realization and growth that only travel can produce - and to be honest, a place I know very little about. I can say that it is the birthplace of my dear ol' Pops, the current home of my dear Aunty and cousins, 2 of which I have never met, and a land where apparently skiing and surfing in the same day is commonplace. Where the world's rarest penguin colonies share the same beach as those surfers, and where fluffy four-legged lil guys with the best wool coats in the world are over 47 million strong.

Just under 14,000 km from where I write this now, lies the jumping off point for The Year of Passion and the shores of:

New Zealand.

Turn and head for the door...

2010-03-21T10:49:00.005-04:00

"So hard to do

And so easy to say

Sometimes you just have to walk away"

Ben Harper is the soulful man responsible for these timely words; although in his case, something tells me that his application of the phrase is more likely about some beautiful yet tragically flawed love affair - or at least thats what the Isabele Allende in me would want to think.

In my case, walking away means the long overdue departure from the well paying job at the big, reputable, international corp. where people put their dues in for future "success", accept and thus perpetuate the hierarchy and stick around to pay the mortgage, bills and wait for the annual salary increase. You know the place - it could be any office, in any city, really anywhere in the world.

Knowing this, this past week has been an interesting experience in articulating the concept of The Year of Passion to family and friends. However like almost anything, practice breeds confidence and the more I begin to share about what I'm doing and what The Year of Passion is about, the more I believe that this truly is my calling right now: to lead a life, and maybe even a movement, that flicks on our consciousness to believe that passion is possible everyday. Even the sheer mention of the concept sparks conversation, and begins the thoughts.

What is this?

2010-03-19T22:58:00.002-04:00

"Hold your own, Know your name, Go your own way."

In a delightfully coincidental moment of internet radio, these words of Jason Mraz are playing out as I begin to muse on the "best" way in which to explain what this is, this Year of Passion...and do it justice.

In short, the Year of Passion is pretty simple; finding passion to live it everyday. I am deeply inspired by real people who live and breath their passion each day, and am constantly so pleasantly surprised when I hear of others who have consciously or unconsciously set off on their own Year of Passion, and have emerged victoriously with a life that connects them with passion. With the right melange of courage, self trust, positivity and dare I even say it, trust in the universe, may I be blessed enough to let this journey I'm about to embark on be the catalyst of change for a life of passion, love and laughter.

I hope over the next 12 months, you will join me as I hope to share the stories, experiences, moments, thoughts and journey that will become The Year of Passion.

Chao lovelies