Nikki the Wonder Woman

Nikki was a wonder woman. Truly. And she would loved to have been called one. She's probably laughing right now. I can hear her in my head. She was not just the transcriber for much of my book, but she was a wonder woman because she laughed at life, laughed at herself, was brilliant, read copious amounts of spiritual stuff online beyond what many do, and was the likes of a comedian who could have blown Ellen Degeneres out of the water. Seinfeld too. She was Lucille Ball incarnate. Kathy Buckley (a renowned deaf comedian) would have adored her.

And she was a writer who could have written the next Pulitzer Prize. Plus her own award-winning "Sweat the Small Stuff--after all it's Only Small Stuff" books. And probably novels. And movies. And more. Nikki would have liked to hear this too.

All the more amazing because Nikki had a disease which had made her very small with severe scoliosis and more, and was in a wheelchair since birth.

She wanted to learn yoga, she wanted to learn reiki, she burned with passion to try all. But last week, due to a staph infection from a hospital operation, she passed away.

I never met Nikki in person, just on the phone when we'd discuss my book. I wish we'd discussed more of her stuff. But over the past few months I got to know a person who was a sage in a small body. Such a powerful sage that she was probably a yogi in a past life, or a Tibetan Reiki Master. She would have loved to hear that too.

We read to learn, we do yoga to expand yourselves and feel more connected to the universe, we turn to "gurus" to teach us more. But sometimes the "guru" is life itself, including the person right next to us, who can teach us volumes just through the way they live their own lives. Nikki was one of those.

She'd have loved to hear that too. And maybe she can.

Drawn to her reply to an ad I posted last summer for transcribers, I followed my intuition and gave her a call. I'm sure it wasn't by chance that I'd meet one of the most beautiful people I've ever met-- and one of my greatest gurus. To me, her legacy will be that she has lead all she has met--including myself--to strive to live our lives as she would have wanted hers--fulfilling, exciting, with grace and service, and willing to try anything.

My blessings back to her will be living my life with as much grace and kindness as she did her's, and keeping her in my buddhist chanting prayers daily, in my yogic prayers, and in my passion for life. May it always equal her's.

You may send blessings in your own way, as well. Glimpses of her soul are at http://www.nikkijeannotte.com/

May we be blessed to encounter souls such as hers in all of our lives.

Rising Above Swine Flu Fear with Yoga and Love

A few years ago, during one of this century’s worst viral epidemics, SARS, I dared to venture outside. “Don’t go,” pleaded my friend. “Don’t hang out in coffee shops anymore or go to yoga. You’d be crazy.”

I had been going to coffee shops but not to yoga and I could refrain no longer.

So, one blizzardly night when I really thought I’d lose my mind staying inside, I did it: I trudged by all the passersby wearing masks as they skidded along Toronto’s slippery snowy, downtown streets, and I made a beeline to the yoga studio.

I left the darkness of the city to enter darkness once again, but this darkness had a serene glow as it was lit by what seemed like dozens of tealights encircling the reception area and the yoga room itself. Peace immediately enveloped me.

Prayer flags hung from the ceiling, the room had a warm glow of the many flames flickering, and my favourite teacher, Vislev, was teaching the class. And it appeared that he was trying to especially cheer us up by enhancing his usually movie-like classes with the romance of candles. What more could I ask for?

Surrounding me were twenty other supposedly crazy devotees and one right across from me who would cough every time he inhaled in cat pose. Freaked me out a bit, but I decided to put it out of my mind. After all, I had to live my life, so whatever would be, would be. I’d just returned from the rainforest of BC and pretending I was still in paradise would be my saving grace.

For the next hour, Vislev acted as the conductor, leading us through an ethereal flow of downward dogs, upward dogs, bakasanas, and uttanasanas, and as I joined the surrounding sea of slowly moving human silhouettes. I felt a deeper peace flow through, immerse my blood, engage my cells and entrain my mind as I moved at one with the pulse of humanity surrounding me.

“Pretend you are the sky,” Vislev said. “The clouds pass through, but the sky remains a constant, undisturbed.” The music of ocean waves from the stereo reverberated in the background, the lights of the high rises obliterated by the windows’ reflections of flames.

As we lay in savasana, our breathing in sync with the oceanic waves, we almost felt like that’s all we knew.

As we slowly rose, about to roll up our mats, Vislev called one of the students to the front. “He has something to say,” Vislev told us, beaming. And as the student knelt in front of a young woman, I sat stunned at what I knew was about to happen, and time slurred still.

“Will you marry me?”, he asked her. Silence. Then, affirmation flowed from her lips.

It is said that one candle can bring light to the greatest darkness-- even in a cave that has not seen light for eons, just as a full moon can light up the night sky.

That night showed me that love can also rise above all darkness and bring light to all in its midst--love, hope, and the knowing that all is possible. When I emerged back into the night, a glow would lead my way. And when fear may arise, to this day, to that feeling of light and love I go again, and I am all the stronger for it.
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Lisa is the editor of the soon to be released book, Stories From the Yogic Heart, at www.storiesfromtheyogicheart.com