ADAPTATION
By Janie Pelletier
It seems like I’m always in transition! At 34 years old, I live a life rich in learning experiences, loving surroundings and adventuresome decision making. I travel, move from one town to another, have multiple sources of income and I juggle an irregular work schedule. Why? Because I choose to do so. I’m an actor, yoga instructor, hospitality professional (a fancy way to say bartender!), health advocate, avid seeker and a nature lover.
A typical day for me is:
The French and English languages intermingle in my daily life and sometimes blend within the same sentence. To optimize my energy level and my brain functions, I do take great care of my health by sleeping, hydrating, eating well, exercising in nature, connecting with others, learning and having fun doing it! When I’m not on my bike getting somewhere in Montreal, I’m in my car heading somewhere else — often reaching for a mountain (west coast peeps would call it a hill!), a teaching venue or a welcoming friend’s house. Among all this movement and spider-web type of life on the outside, I can now say that I feel grounded and stable on the inside.
March 2018, I’m in the middle of the first teacher training that I’ve had the priviledge of hosting. I’ve created a transition lab (workshop), sharing my point of view on how, when we change posture during an asana sequence, we need to acknowledge the ‘’adaptation’’ phase involved, in order to experience the following posture.
Let’s say you go from Utkatasana (chair pose) to Uttanasana (standing forward fold). You breathe through the transition then, as the body is in a different shape, your breath will spread differently across your back while being a little restricted in front of your body. You might change your arm placement, according to your flexibility, and slowly start feeling your neck releasing tension. All of this adaptation process might take 1 to 3 breaths before you start being in the new asana (Uttanasana) and experiencing it on a deeper level. At that point, you might decide to stay in it a little longer because you are now starting to enjoy it.
I would soon realise how uncomfortable this adaptation phase could be.
Mid-June 2018, I’m seated at the Hide + Seek Café on Oak Bay in Victoria (BC) and my mood is far from wanting to play a childhood game. I just left my apartment in Montreal, moved all my belongings back to my parents’, and left my work and loved ones for an indeterminate time. I just flew on a one-way ticket to offer my lover and I an opportunity to be together. Even if I call myself a chameleon from time to time, no one escapes the adaptation process… Seated in front of my almond latte, I feel unsatisfied; my new home lacks natural sunlight, the Wifi doesn’t reach the patio door, so to work I have to bury myself in the dark bedroom. My plans for work failed. My lover, Justin, has to work more than he expected and I feel trapped in a life that seems too restrictive. Just having to spend money, daily, at cafés in order to get Wifi, makes me financially anxious… never mind not having work lined up.
Most people would perceive my ‘’2-month vacation’’ as a nice getaway or share their envy at this opportunity to ‘’just leave’’, moving freely to another adventure, not having any responsibilities holding me back (such as kids, work, family, mortgage…) but, for me, it is not a holiday trip; it is a choice to put myself on the line again.
Yes, I am doing it again. I’ve left everything behind and have just moved forward to another unknown adventure. Yes, I am organised financially, have communicated clearly with all parties (friends, co-workers, family etc.) and all my commitments are completed so no one is left stranded.
Organising my months-long get away took 6 months. Communication, planning and organising are some of my strengths. I’m at peace with my past, not insecure about the future and fully living right now. For me, everything is possible and knowledge is power. The more you know about yourself, or any given situation, the more you can make clear decisions based on your intelligent, intuitive process. BUT...
Still, no one escape the adaptation process…
I decide to write a message to the teacher training group, I affectionately call « la gang », that I last saw a few weeks ago to share with them where I am at. My fingers, typing the words with fluidity, without over-thinking, I share where I am at in my transition — my struggle with discomfort, my desire to scream and cry because of the pressure in my chest that needs to be released. I don’t want it to go away, I don’t try to ignore it because just the fact of acknowledging IT through this sharing process makes me look at my situation for what it is: Adaptation. I know that it shall past. I know that nothing lasts. Everything changes and I have to accept that I don’t know when this adaptive phase will end… I will know once it is over.
The only control I have is over my reactions to the suffering it creates. My reaction is to reach out to my sangha, la gang, for support. I can read in their compassionate responses that they fully understand the process I’m going through because they are adapting too! After 6 months of me being the ‘"teacher’’ and them being the ‘’students’’, we are now in the same place adapting to a new phase of our lives, transforming into new versions of ourselves, like a computer needing time to update before being up to speed.
Early August 2018, seated outside, on my wooden long-chair, having my coffee after my early morning ritual, I feel a sweet sense of lightness, like my body just landed, here and now, into the present moment. I have rarely feel such a thing. I don’t even know if it lasted a second, all I know is that I felt it and it was freeing.
It took me a month and a half to adapt to my new environment. I really like my new job. Justin and I have a loving relationship. I’ve found my ‘’go-to’’ shops and yoga spaces, ride my bike everywhere around Victoria and have created new rituals… and I leave in 2 weeks! As of now, I don’t want to go back to Montreal. I love my life on the west coast with my lover!
As the days go by, I progressively remind myself that, in Quebec, there’s a lot awaiting me: family, friends, flourishing projects (teacher training, a Yoga Festival, group classes, acting etc.) and new adventures that I don’t even know about! I am now starting a 2-week adaptation process for leaving my BC home...it is a never ending cycle!
August 15th, saying ‘’ À bientôt’’ to my lover breaks me into tears and, as I walk into the airport, I know that I’m transitioning to a new chapter of my life. I am alone, seated in the plane taking me back to a town I believe is still the same but knowing that I am not. Now, the wheel of life is turning still and the adaptation process is taking a new turn.
Saying « yes » to something means not saying « yes » to something else. It is through my yoga practice, and the philosophical principles, that I have been able to reflect and familiarise with the impermanence of everything in life. I don’t think we can eliminate suffering, but we can lessen the negative impact it will have on our lives by acknowledging our reaction to it and allowing ourselves to grieve. Nature, seasons, our bodies, mindsets, jobs, friendships, plans, perspectives, opinions all evolve toward a new state at a different rhythm. Understanding that nothing will remain the same helps me, so much, to let go of ‘’over’’ controlling the outcomes of any given situation and being more flexible when plans change. I also realize that it’s ok to be uncomfortable and upset about change, but I have to let it out some way in order to not dwell in negative energies.
Writing in my journal, sharing my concerns with people who care about me, painting, cleaning, crying are all great ways to let out the pressure of adaptation. Change is always good, in the end, but not always easy.
Janie Pelletier
A typical day for me is:
- yoga practice
- prepping food for the day
- coffee and typing about project #1(teacher training)
- mountain biking
- guiding a yoga class in city #1 (Montréal, in English)
- auditioning for a commercial
- hiking
- meeting for project #2 (hiking & yoga in India)
- guiding a yoga class in city #2 (Lanoraie, in French)
- chatting with my lover who lives 5 hours away (by plane!) — planning my next 2-month visit
- meeting with a friend for a late dinner
- reading fiction or anything that has nothing to do with the day I had…zzzzz
The French and English languages intermingle in my daily life and sometimes blend within the same sentence. To optimize my energy level and my brain functions, I do take great care of my health by sleeping, hydrating, eating well, exercising in nature, connecting with others, learning and having fun doing it! When I’m not on my bike getting somewhere in Montreal, I’m in my car heading somewhere else — often reaching for a mountain (west coast peeps would call it a hill!), a teaching venue or a welcoming friend’s house. Among all this movement and spider-web type of life on the outside, I can now say that I feel grounded and stable on the inside.
March 2018, I’m in the middle of the first teacher training that I’ve had the priviledge of hosting. I’ve created a transition lab (workshop), sharing my point of view on how, when we change posture during an asana sequence, we need to acknowledge the ‘’adaptation’’ phase involved, in order to experience the following posture.
Let’s say you go from Utkatasana (chair pose) to Uttanasana (standing forward fold). You breathe through the transition then, as the body is in a different shape, your breath will spread differently across your back while being a little restricted in front of your body. You might change your arm placement, according to your flexibility, and slowly start feeling your neck releasing tension. All of this adaptation process might take 1 to 3 breaths before you start being in the new asana (Uttanasana) and experiencing it on a deeper level. At that point, you might decide to stay in it a little longer because you are now starting to enjoy it.
I would soon realise how uncomfortable this adaptation phase could be.
Mid-June 2018, I’m seated at the Hide + Seek Café on Oak Bay in Victoria (BC) and my mood is far from wanting to play a childhood game. I just left my apartment in Montreal, moved all my belongings back to my parents’, and left my work and loved ones for an indeterminate time. I just flew on a one-way ticket to offer my lover and I an opportunity to be together. Even if I call myself a chameleon from time to time, no one escapes the adaptation process… Seated in front of my almond latte, I feel unsatisfied; my new home lacks natural sunlight, the Wifi doesn’t reach the patio door, so to work I have to bury myself in the dark bedroom. My plans for work failed. My lover, Justin, has to work more than he expected and I feel trapped in a life that seems too restrictive. Just having to spend money, daily, at cafés in order to get Wifi, makes me financially anxious… never mind not having work lined up.
Most people would perceive my ‘’2-month vacation’’ as a nice getaway or share their envy at this opportunity to ‘’just leave’’, moving freely to another adventure, not having any responsibilities holding me back (such as kids, work, family, mortgage…) but, for me, it is not a holiday trip; it is a choice to put myself on the line again.
Yes, I am doing it again. I’ve left everything behind and have just moved forward to another unknown adventure. Yes, I am organised financially, have communicated clearly with all parties (friends, co-workers, family etc.) and all my commitments are completed so no one is left stranded.
Organising my months-long get away took 6 months. Communication, planning and organising are some of my strengths. I’m at peace with my past, not insecure about the future and fully living right now. For me, everything is possible and knowledge is power. The more you know about yourself, or any given situation, the more you can make clear decisions based on your intelligent, intuitive process. BUT...
Still, no one escape the adaptation process…
I decide to write a message to the teacher training group, I affectionately call « la gang », that I last saw a few weeks ago to share with them where I am at. My fingers, typing the words with fluidity, without over-thinking, I share where I am at in my transition — my struggle with discomfort, my desire to scream and cry because of the pressure in my chest that needs to be released. I don’t want it to go away, I don’t try to ignore it because just the fact of acknowledging IT through this sharing process makes me look at my situation for what it is: Adaptation. I know that it shall past. I know that nothing lasts. Everything changes and I have to accept that I don’t know when this adaptive phase will end… I will know once it is over.
The only control I have is over my reactions to the suffering it creates. My reaction is to reach out to my sangha, la gang, for support. I can read in their compassionate responses that they fully understand the process I’m going through because they are adapting too! After 6 months of me being the ‘"teacher’’ and them being the ‘’students’’, we are now in the same place adapting to a new phase of our lives, transforming into new versions of ourselves, like a computer needing time to update before being up to speed.
Early August 2018, seated outside, on my wooden long-chair, having my coffee after my early morning ritual, I feel a sweet sense of lightness, like my body just landed, here and now, into the present moment. I have rarely feel such a thing. I don’t even know if it lasted a second, all I know is that I felt it and it was freeing.
It took me a month and a half to adapt to my new environment. I really like my new job. Justin and I have a loving relationship. I’ve found my ‘’go-to’’ shops and yoga spaces, ride my bike everywhere around Victoria and have created new rituals… and I leave in 2 weeks! As of now, I don’t want to go back to Montreal. I love my life on the west coast with my lover!
As the days go by, I progressively remind myself that, in Quebec, there’s a lot awaiting me: family, friends, flourishing projects (teacher training, a Yoga Festival, group classes, acting etc.) and new adventures that I don’t even know about! I am now starting a 2-week adaptation process for leaving my BC home...it is a never ending cycle!
August 15th, saying ‘’ À bientôt’’ to my lover breaks me into tears and, as I walk into the airport, I know that I’m transitioning to a new chapter of my life. I am alone, seated in the plane taking me back to a town I believe is still the same but knowing that I am not. Now, the wheel of life is turning still and the adaptation process is taking a new turn.
Saying « yes » to something means not saying « yes » to something else. It is through my yoga practice, and the philosophical principles, that I have been able to reflect and familiarise with the impermanence of everything in life. I don’t think we can eliminate suffering, but we can lessen the negative impact it will have on our lives by acknowledging our reaction to it and allowing ourselves to grieve. Nature, seasons, our bodies, mindsets, jobs, friendships, plans, perspectives, opinions all evolve toward a new state at a different rhythm. Understanding that nothing will remain the same helps me, so much, to let go of ‘’over’’ controlling the outcomes of any given situation and being more flexible when plans change. I also realize that it’s ok to be uncomfortable and upset about change, but I have to let it out some way in order to not dwell in negative energies.
Writing in my journal, sharing my concerns with people who care about me, painting, cleaning, crying are all great ways to let out the pressure of adaptation. Change is always good, in the end, but not always easy.
Janie Pelletier