Inner Peace

I had the good fortune to attend a workshop/discussion with Kino Macgregor, an amazingly talented and lovely yoga instructor. The majority of the discussion centered on transformation and cultivating inner peace and acceptance. It was incredibly inspiring, and it really is how I strive to live my life, with compassion and mindfulness, although I will admit here that at times I feel less like a peaceful being and more like Frank Costanza – SERENITY NOW! – especially when I am trying to get out the door and Jake is sitting on the step, shoeless, yelling “I JUST CAN’T DO IT. I CAN’T PUT MY SHOES ON” and Mark is talking, obliviously, over the din of his brother’s complaints about dinosaurs and Doc Hudson.

Where was I? Oh, yes, inner peace. I was completely inspired by this workshop and the beauty of this woman’s mind. Then, abruptly, my inner peace shattered with the sight of my neighbour – this neighbour – mowing the lawn shirtless. Recall that I live in a city where the average daily temperature, in the hottest month of the year, is 22.9 degrees Celsius. It is not the tropics, people. We do not actually need to be shirtless. Do I do yard work in a thong? No. I do not. That is because I have respect for my neighbours, and I expect the same in return. GO PUT A SHIRT ON.

Of course, hypocritically, if this scene was like something from a Diet Coke commercial, I probably would not complain. But as it is, I really do not need to see your gut, your man boobs, and your back hair, so clothe yourself, neighbour! DO IT NOW!

Right. Inner peace. I’m working on it. I swear.


  1. I don’t have inner peace about my neighbor’s bird feeders. AT ALL.

    I understand.

  2. My next door neighbours like to blare Shania Twain at 3 in the morning from their garage. I have no inner peace.

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