Is anyone ever ready? — “Sex started to hurt,” my friend confesses in an anguished voice. “I worried that was it for us. I’m only 63. Would ever have sex again? Had my body just given up down there?” We’re in the kitchen, talking in that conspiratorial way women do when they don’t want men…

A journey through femininity and back — There’s a photo of me at two years old. I’m covered from toes to nose in vibrant pink lip gloss. I’m grinning and nearly glowing, like the inside of an oyster shell. Like the inner lips of my labia. This feature feels cosmetic yet will define me in nearly every…

The only way to deal with the shame is to confront it — “The body is not an apology.” — Sonya Renee Taylor Seven years ago, I had ‘risky’ sex for the first and only time in my forty-one years. My lover was a good friend and we did not discuss it beforehand. It was impromptu — a magical night transported us into…

The spook-factor was in between Misery and The Birds — Ever have an experience so surreal it seems impossible — even while it was happening? When you tell the story later, self-doubt skulks nearby. Maybe it was just a dream? Or a film you watched? One so immersive it felt as though it happened to you? This shit went down…

The trip that taught me how not to miss a moment of pleasure — “Why don’t you join me here?” N. asked one evening with a coy smile during our Skype. My heart hopscotched for a few beats. Fly? To Newfoundland? On a whim? “Your no makes the way for your yes.” — adrienne maree brown, Pleasure Activism The first lover I took after…

Why creativity matters more than ever — My partner is hearing impaired in one ear because of a lifetime of power tools and loud music. The effect of this overstimulation for him is physically disabling. Yet many of us are impacted by the ‘loudness’ of modern life in less obvious ways, though potentially no less debilitating. Even…

What it’s like reading and writing without mental pictures — Close your eyes and imagine this: A golden retriever with a red ball in its mouth runs through a field of tall grass. The sun is high in the sky, and fluffy white clouds bob across the blue like ice in a cup. Your smiling mom crests the hill and waves to you. If you’re able…

There are no magical solutions for suffering — We’ve all been there. A friend, a coworker, perhaps a total stranger shares a raw and broken piece of their life with us. Their dog has just died, they lost their job, their business went belly up — some disaster has struck and they’re devastated. So they unburden their soul…

A night of music and post-relationship mentorship — All that is now All that is gone All that’s to come And everything under the sun is in tune But the sun is eclipsed by the moon — ‘Eclipse,’ Pink Floyd The cold fact of living alone after my marriage broke apart was a long, relaxing exhale. In the…

Why the second arrow always hurts more — “You were embarrassed for feeling sad about the death of your cat. It’s painful enough to feel sad, but on top of it . . . to feel embarrassed for feeling, that is the killer.” This short quote, taken from I Heart Huckabees, is a perfect example of what Buddhists…

Movement and play are potent medicine — “In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus A few years ago, I made a split-second decision that radically changed my life. I was deep in a frigid Manitoba winter, and my partner and I couldn’t seem to find…

And the pictures to prove I never will — I am a woman of far too many hobbies. When people tell me about the ten shows they watched on Netflix this week, I stare off into space and wonder, How?? How do you have the time? …

They aren’t all a heart-destroying apocalypse — Many romantic relationships end in devastation. Regret. Prolonged post-relationship periods when we second guess ourselves or replay the last few months to see whether anything could have been done to salvage it. My particularly favourite flavour is that delightful ending quickly followed by excessive self-recrimination for not ending the relationship…

This is not advice — Okay, I have failed as a GOOD parent, I’d reason. But at least if I relax, I won’t toss my baby out the third-story window. And so I began drinking a glass of wine to get through that final, impossibly-long hour before supper. Some days, by the time the witching…

My playground and my first laboratory — I roamed the acre-and-a-half of prairie that was my home more thoroughly than I did my own body. For the longest time, anyway. My yard was my playground and my first laboratory. It gave me freedom to stretch my lanky limbs. …

Walking through Treaty 1 in spirals — “Our bodies are a library, and our stories are written like braille on the skin.” — Joshua Whitehead, Oji-Cree/nehiyaw member of Peguis First Nation (Treaty 1). It is 9 am on a Saturday and I see a sleeping body on a bench in front of the Shoppers Drug Mart window. …

The small kindnesses of strangers are the way the Universe says ‘I love you’ — Once when I was a grad student, I found an unexpected email in my inbox that went something like this: Dear Danielle, We’re looking for students who are willing to write a letter of recommendation regarding their experience with Professor M. …

It took a psychoactive drug to show me my self-worth — As I felt the mild euphoria and weightlessness spread through my body, I recalled my intention for this journey: a question I’d brought with me to ask the plants, the universe, my deepest self — whoever was listening and willing to answer. How do I heal? I told my friend…

And then I became one — A few weeks back, this picture crossed my Facebook feed, and I had one of those Aha! moments. You know, the ones the Universe needs to send ExpressPost 100+ times before they sink into a level where they genuinely shift your living. This one is hard, so no doubt the…

What if the Wachowskis were right? — In June of 2015, Netflix released the first 12 episodes of Sense8, created by Lana and Lilly Wachowski. The basic premise: another species of humans live secretly alongside homo sapiens, called homo sensorium. …