Past Lives

Insert past life here. Would it be a superhero, a cat (even though I’m totally allergic to the little buggers), a ninja or a princess? One thing is for sure, in this life, I’ve cycled through plenty of lives already. Here are several for the tasting.

Yes, I was an Ad Exec and worked on over 30 different commercials in my career. So when I got the invite to attend the 50th year advertising reunion party for one of the agencies I worked for I was excited and dreading it all at the same time. I wondered how I’d go about my one-liner. I had several options…

No matter how I spun it, I knew that I may be faced with a question that I was dreading. And most importantly what the heck was I going to wear?

The idea of facing my past made me wonder…how do you deal with past lives?

Walking into the room there it was, my nightmare…name tags. A bad idea when it doesn’t work with your outfit. Clipping it onto my knitted shall that wrapped around a strapless black number (yes, the black dresses are happy again), I made my entrance and went in for the kill. I came across the old boss who looked the same, the old colleague who was now decked out in fire engine red hair and the creative director who was still eye candy and yes, still married. To my surprise, people were in awe of my life change and were envious that I had the balls to leave it all behind, start something new and go to Italy in a matter of weeks. Funny, maybe this past life was presenting the kind of perspective that I needed. But just as I believe in arriving fashionably late, I made sure to leave fashionably early. I had what I needed, and it was time to go…

But this past life encounter brought up more, especially since the last while, more from my past was coming up, which brings me to…

Mortified at my book of choice, I prayed to God that she could just turn my book into the Anthology of the Beatles or some Giller Prize novel. But no, I was reading, How to Be Single. The only thing worse I could have been reading would have been, How to Get Rid of Your Crabs, or Becoming Friends With Your STD. In complete embarassment, I disclosed my book title and as fast as you could say flight…my Clark Kent was off.

It was less than a week ago when I got a call from the Chef who was rolling into town with one of the biggest star bands in the world and he wanted to meet up for dinner. Going out to catch up over the year’s events since our split, the night ended up back in his hotel where we continued our friendly convo. Feeling responsible to not drink and drive I decided to crash over. So curling up in bed with a trusted friend, I decided to sleep until…

The poke.

Yes, the Chef was hitting on me.

Batting him away and realizing how naive I was about the evening, I set him straight bringing on disappointment on both ends. Awkwardly leaving in the morning, I got into my car looking like yesterday’s crud and I was off.

Driving home to my folks, Mr. Soprano and Mama Bear, I realized that this little bear was hungry and needed some fuel.

2 organic apples

1 cups steel cut oats

1 tsp pure organic vanilla extract

1/2 cup roughly chopped up yacon chips

1/2 cup walnuts

1/2 cup sunflower seeds

1/4 cup unpasteurized honey or maple syrup

1/4 cup coconut oil (and some extra for greasing bowl)

1 tsp cinnamon

Freshly grated nutmeg

Pinch sea salt

Preheat oven to 375F. Combine all ingredients in a well greased casserole dish. Place in the oven for 45 minutes and go shower up and get ready for your day. Once you get out of the shower, pay a visit to your bake and stir it every so often so it browns evenly. When serving, place bake in a bowl and top with unsweetened almond milk or coconut milk.

I love this breakfast, especially now that the mornings have been getting rather chilly. Fall is certainly approaching and the apples taste amazing. I’ve paired it with yacon chips which has a cross between an apple and watermellon type flavour. Yacon is actually a sweet tasting tuber from Peru, but these chips have been dehydrated and packaged and were available at my local health food store. Not to mention, it goes straight to the spleen meridian (which governs digestion) and provides a prebiotic state for friendly bacteria to feed off of. Digestion is strongest during 9-11am when the spleen is up and kicking, so luckily, I rolled in just in the nick of time.

After getting some warmth in my belly and feeling more awake, only one word came to mind…boundaries.

No, I didn’t need to justify who I was or make best buds with old ad folks but I could share with them what I wanted to…boundaries Melissa.

No, I shouldn’t reignite an old flame with the Chef, but realize that maybe going back to his hotel room might have been sending the wrong signal….boundaries Melissa.

No, having intimate encounters with Mr. Hollywood (yes, I caved) was not nourishing but rather felt empty. Conversations ran dry and I felt like I was only one thing to him…boundaries Melissa.

I suppose without history we aren’t able to learn how to live in the present or make corrections for the future. Maybe creating boundaries doesn’t have to mean closing off, but rather respecting and protecting who we are and our integrity. Being strong shouldn’t make you harder and building boundaries doesn’t have to mean building walls.

So when dealing with past lives, maybe there’s no reason why the past needs to intrude on the present. Or why we should care about what people in our past think of us now. Learning and moving on is possibly the only way to free up opportunities and energy for the future…

…well that and being a little more selective with book choices around Mr. Potentials.