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Winter Wonderland bridge to Gatineau Quebec

Inhaling the Season, Inhaling the Moment 

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Winter Wonderland bridge to Gatineau Quebec

Yesterday, our city had its first snowstorm of the season. Ordinarily, we would have significant piles of snow by now, but El Niño has been kind to us this year. However, after two months of unseasonably warm snowlessness, winter arrived. Yesterday, incidentally, was also my first day back to work after the Christmas holidays. Having that extra day added to my weekend felt like bliss…

I came downstairs to Matt setting up to make pancakes with the children (lucky guy gets the whole week off, as his school is closed for the holidays). Matt looks up and says “You’re not wearing that to work, are you?! It’s snowing! It’s cold out!” I’m dressed in teal tights and a mid-length dress. “You’re biking in, right?” he asks. “Of course!” I reply, “It’s only minus 12!” I’ve commuted  by bike year round (as has Matt) for almost twenty years, so there was no question in my mind about whether to ride my bike to work. (And let me tell you, I’m not a tough person or someone with anything to prove. In reality, I’m a bit of a wimp.) Each year there’s a day or two when the snow is just too deep to pedal through and I have to walk in. But surely today was not that day, it was only the first real snow! No, no, on this day, I confidently assumed that, like in other years, people were over-reacting to the snow. That is, over-compensating by wearing too much clothing and avoiding travel. No over-reaction would come from me! Each year, as winter settles in people become accustomed to the conditions and they remember how to carry on with their usual life in spite of the winter (sorry winter, I don’t mean to spite you, it’s just a turn of phrase). Knowing this, I tell myself, assuredly, that there’s no reason not to wear a dress or to ride my bike. A glance out the window confirms that, indeed, a lot of snow has fallen and is continuing to fall. Hugs and kisses delivered to my loves and out the garage door I head into the snow, with my bike, of course.

I step into the snow. Ah…it turns out the snow is light, fine, and the slippery sort. If you’ve lived with significant snow in your life you know that there are many types of snow. Understanding their properties first hand informs us of what to expect and how to act (ahem…). Growing up in Canadian cities with major snow accumulation, being an outdoorsy person, I know what I’m in for with this snow (ahem…). A test ride on my bike confirms my intuition, the wheels spin like an exercise bike that doesn’t move forward. No worries, I tell myself, I will just push my bike through the snow until I come to a main road, which certainly will have been plowed or at least compacted by car commuters. I begin down my street, passing a fellow cyclist neighbour who is shovelling and says to me: “Biking in, eh?” (Which, if you don’t understand Canadian, is a kind way of questioning the logic of biking on such a day). Not even slightly deterred, I call out “Of course! I just need to get to a main street, then it’s smooth sailing!” I continue on. As I turn off my street I can see what’s usually a busy residential street ahead that would ordinarily be cleared of snow due to its through traffic. Hmm, not so today. I decide I will have to take a detour to a more main street, the Main Street in our city, Bank street.  This means pushing my bike for an extra four blocks, but what choice do I have? (Turning around is not an option, eye roll).  And besides, if I’m honest, the adventure of it is a big part of the fun. Yes, fun.

I continue on, two blocks later, I come upon a friend of Matt’s, an avid outdoorsman, cyclist and athlete, he’s shovelling and calls out to me: “You look like a Dutch woman, are you off to race cyclocross?” This is meant as a joke, as I’m wearing a dress and clearly only crazy, competitive cyclists would persist with riding a bike in such weather, and would only do so because they didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to race their bike. I laugh at his joke, which I really only get because I’ve lived with a cyclist for almost twenty years. I reply “It’s just a little snow, I’ve commuted for years! I used to live in Montreal!” (Which is a Canadian joke, because Montreal gets huge dumps of snow AND has crazy drivers, if you commute by bike in Montreal you earn a badge of bravery). I continue on to the end of his block, and looking up ahead I notice a photographer snapping photos of pedestrians walking by, he aims his camera at me and starts taking pictures. I suppose a woman in a dress with a bike in this weather could make for a good photo story. I recognize his body language and realize it’s Justin Tang of the Canadian Press, who I’ve met a few times around town. “Hi Justin!” I call out. “Oh hey, Danielle!” He snaps a few more photos and then we chat about the weather and a few other spots where he could get some good photos of people in the storm. “Have great day, enjoy the snow!”

 

I continue on one more block and am now at the busiest street in town. Well, look at this…it hasn’t been plowed, and there’s only one lane open in each direction, even the city buses can’t pull over to open their doors for passengers because the snow is too deep. At this point, I concede that I cannot ride my bike to work. Well, I could, but it would mostly be pushing my bike, it would be dangerous in this traffic, and it would take way too long. (I do need to arrive at my desk at a reasonable hour!). I park my bike at a nearby condo tower, out of the way from snow plows (which will undoubtedly pass by soon, #optimism) so that it doesn’t get hit and run down by a plow (yes, it happens…a lot).

I hop on a city bus and arrive at work late, but given the weather, no one is concerned. I love these days. While there is normally so much concern that we attend work for the full hours, so as to ensure we have enough time to get everything done, on bad weather days, another logic kicks in: we can get done what needs to be done in the time available. I work away at my desk for a few hours and then an email comes in advising our team that we can leave work early due to “deteriorating” weather conditions (what?! The weather is amazing!). Doesn’t sound or look like anything has deteriorated to me, it’s beautiful outside! Without delay I put my boots and parka on and I’m out the door of the office tower.

I love to walk. I would probably walk everywhere I went if I had the luxury of time. I would love to walk to work and home each day, but this would rob me of time with my children (yes, it would feel like robbing) by adding 45 minutes each way to my commute, essentially leaving me with about an hour and a half of waking hours with my children each day. Not enough! So, I bike to work in order to delay my departure and bike home to rush my return. But yesterday’s weather allowed no rushing, even the city buses were crawling along. So, out of my office I happily stepped, knowing that circumstances were allowing me to walk home without any inner guilt that would stem from selfishly choosing to walk and thereby stealing time from my family.

I work in the bordering city, bordering province in fact, which is separated from Ottawa (city), Ontario (province) by a beautiful river (where we spend many summer days), there is a long bridge connecting the two provinces. I love walking this bridge, the river, the energy of the rushing water, beautiful Victoria Island situated at mid point, the old stone buildings built along the river, trees and hills, naturally formed. I know that it’s serendipity’s gift that I get to walk home in this gorgeous weather. I know that it’s impossible for me to rush myself. And so, I just inhale it all, inhale the season, inhale the moment. Inhale, exhale. Slowly.

 

As I’ve said elsewhere, I don’t often move slowly outside of my time with the children. My job is hectic, my commute is rushed, and so this weather is a gift to move slowly, to savour. And I know it. Thank goodness, I know it.

The walk is beautiful, passing the river, trees, wild rose bushes where we have gathered petals in the summer, then moving more into the city centre, the downtown streets, passing by statues accumulating snow, traffic lights glowing through frosty flakes. It’s all beautiful. An hour and a half later I arrive at the condo building where I had parked my bike. Snow plows clearly haven’t passed by yet and my bike is in perfect condition, albeit half buried. Did I mention it’s still snowing? I unlock my bike and continue my walk home, pushing my bike through the unplowed streets. I’m glowing from enjoyment of all the unexpected in the day.

As I walk the 6 blocks to my house, I pass the same avid cyclist neighbour who flatteringly referred to me as a Dutch woman, “Still shovelling, eh?” I call out in a humorous tone.”Pretty much!” he replies. I continue on, passing other neighbourhood folk who I don’t personally know: an older couple happily chuckles as they see me pushing my bike, I grin to myself and them, happy to give them a good laugh. “Great day for biking!” I call out. More laughter. I continue on, passing another person every few houses, each smiles and chuckles away at my silliness, but also, I intuit, because they too have been overly optimistic about Canadian weather on occasion, their smiles belie this truth. I pause and realize I’m delighted to be giving people a reason to laugh at the weather and to have an extra laugh in their day. This day, this weather, has been a gift.

I arrive home to find out that Matt’s longest friend reported to him that this day was the hardest bike commute he’s ever had (he had to carry his bike through the snow). He’s a hard man, he’s been commuting forever, he’s lived in the mountains. Matt tells me I should have skied to work. But I’m really glad I biked.

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Let’s be friends! Please come find me in other places:

Have you subscribed to the Global Guardian Project yet? These are monthly learning capsules for children and families to learn about global stewardship. Each month features a different country’s wild life, landscape and challenges, and includes art projects, activities, meditation, recipes and more! Use my discount code: HIPPIEINDISGUISE for 10% off, you can read more about it here

The Mathematics of Love: My Love More Story

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Sen and Ro Chassin by Natasha Moine

Around this time last year I was asked to contribute to a collection that would be titled “The Love More Stories.” I don’t often write about myself or share personal stories because I tend to shy from the sort of attention this could bring. However, over the last year I’ve had a nagging feeling that I should share this story more broadly. The story captures a number of key themes in my life and the tension between them. The desire to have a large family and the desire to be responsible in our family’s use of the earth’s resources. The pull between personal interest and the greater good.

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Growing up I always knew I wanted children. In fact, I knew I wanted a big family. Seeing my mother skilfully raise the three of us, knowing she always wanted a fourth, I thought to myself that four was the perfect number, at least as a minimum. And so, my heart was set on having four children. As I later learned, these were certainly the idealistic musings of a young person who hadn’t put thought into what their life partner might want and who didn’t consider the environmental impacts of raising children in the first world.

Today, I am a mother to two children. First, there’s my kind-hearted daughter, Ro. She’s the creative type, always dancing, singing or drawing, and usually doing more than one of these at once. Ro is highly intuitive, deeply loving, naturally funny and the definition of a social butterfly. Then, there’s Sen, my wild little boy. He is head strong, while also being a very sweet and calm child. He loves climbing, dancing, and pretending to be a ninja. Together these two are the best of friends and siblings. Most days I dream of having their level of connection with another human, their love for each other is so fierce and all-consuming, it has taught me so much about the powers of love.

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I am always a mother first, but I am also a wife and friend, and I work full time outside of the home. I work professionally to provide for my family, but my passions lie in the arts, in writing, in photography, in adventure, and, of course, in nurturing my children. My aim is to develop deep and genuine kindness in my children, not only toward their family and friends, but toward all humans and toward all life on earth. This is why we spend most of our free time outdoors connecting with each other and with the abundance of animal and plant life around us, cultivating a love and reverence for the earth.

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And then, there’s Matt, my husband and partner in life, a highly rational and deeply principled person. These two things I love most about him, but they also make life with him hard. There’s no being flaky about your values around Matt, principles should be lived by. Fun or not. Easy or not.

We knew soon after we met that we were a perfect match; we didn’t share any hobbies, but we agreed on the big stuff, like politics and ethics. We married a few years later. We both wanted to have children while we were young, at least by today’s standards, and so soon after we  married we had our first, Ro. It was like a cliche seeing my child for the first time and having so much intense love instantly, and over the first year seeing my love for Matt grow and mature seeing him become a parent, and seeing his love for his daughter. When Ro was nearing one year, I felt ready and excited for a second child. I talked to Matt about having our second, we were both in graduate school at the time, and so the timing of the birth was not inconsequential.

And so, I started the conversation on a very practical point: timing. Since the question of having a second child or not, was already answered in my mind, and presumably in Matt’s too. Now, Matt is someone whose heart strings are perfectly aligned with what he believes, with his principles and ethics, and so he replied with “We shouldn’t have a second, it is not responsible, it is not right to take more resources from the earth to satisfy our own cravings to have children. One child is the right number.” Now, as you can imagine, I didn’t accept this without presenting a few counter-points, strongest among these was that “surely, the world needs more children like the ones we will raise, they will be role models in caring for the earth.” But, to be honest, I knew in my heart that this was pretty presumptuous of me and motivated by self-interest. In this instance, loving meant not only loving our kin, not only loving humans, but loving all life. If I were to truly act lovingly toward all life, toward the earth, then I wouldn’t have a second child. So, I accepted, very reluctantly, that Matt was right.

Danielle Chassin Hippie in Disguise

But my heart still wanted that big family, so I began to talk about adoption, which I thought Matt would agree to since it wouldn’t bring new people into the world. And this is when I got an answer I never ever expected. “Danielle, I love Ro so much it hurts. I love her so much there is just no way that I could ever love another child this much. I would never forgive myself for having a second child in the family that I didn’t love as much. That child would know, they would feel the lack of love. And if by some crazy stroke of fate I did love that second child as much as I love Ro, then I would certainly have to rob Ro of some of my love.” I could see the calculus of love floating in thought bubbles above his head. Like any resource, there is a finite amount. In a family you only have so much time to share among its members, there’s only so much food in the fridge and bedrooms in your home. Who was I to say, naively, that there would be enough love to go around? When I thought about the woman living in the apartment below us, who had 19 children, I thought Matt’s right, there is no way she loves any one of those children as much as we love our one child. This was without any poor judgment of her, it was pure math, pure logic. And so, once again, I conceded to Matt’s view. It would be one child for us. Logically, I knew he was right, but I’d be lying if I said my heart was happy about it.

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And so, for the next four years we carried on pouring all our love and energy and resources into our one child. Then one day, as I carried Ro on my hip to go downstairs for breakfast, the same as I did every morning, she excitedly said something very peculiar. “Mama, you have a baby in your tummy!” To which I replied “Oh no, sweetie, there’s no baby.” And she replied with complete confidence, “Yes, there is. I know it. You smell like mummy milk, you smell like you did when I was a baby.” What a quirky thing to say, I thought to myself, and with that we prepared breakfast and carried on with the day.

A week later, having forgotten my conversation with Ro,  I started to experience symptoms of pregnancy. I ignored them for a few days, and then decided to take a test just to rule out my worries. Worries because I believed in Matt’s reasons not to have a second child.  I was in complete and total shock when the test came back positive. And then like a tidal wave, Ro’s intuition washed over me. She had known. The sensitivities and keen perceptions of a small child are truly astounding.

Now, for us, while we had agreed one was a responsible number of children for us to have, there was never an option to not carry a pregnancy through. We respect all life and couldn’t end a life prematurely, and so eight months later we welcomed our son, Sen, at almost 10 months gestation, into our family, born at home into his papa’s arms.

Matt Surch and Ro Chassin by Natasha Moine

Living life, living in a family, there are many lessons in love. We learn that there are all sorts of love: love for a child, love for a partner, love for a friend. We learn that love evolves and matures. One of the great lessons in love we learned from our second child is that love is not a finite resource, as we had naively thought. When we saw our son for the first time, we had that same overwhelming feeling of love, of the biggest, most intense love, the same feeling we had had with Ro, and that we still had for Ro. There was no diminishment in our love for Ro or for each other, and yet we had as much love for Sen. In fact, our love grew. Seeing Ro love her brother instantly, our love grew for her. Seeing Matt hold his son, my love grew for him. Even though everyday I think that I can’t possibly love my children more than I do, I somehow love them more than I did the day before. Of all the lessons in love, the one I think of most is that love obeys no rules of math or logic. Love does not diminish when it is shared, rather it grows. You can always love more. Love is infinite.

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You can find the full Love More Stories collection for purchase here

You can also read an interview with Amanda who started the Love More Shop, where she talks about her motivation for starting a shop focused on loving more and how she gives back to the community.

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Hippie in Disguise ro and sen Chassin Rideau Canal Ottawa

Talking Motherhood and Minimalist Fun with boy+girl

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In the news! I was interviewed by boy+girl as part of their series on motherhood. I loved doing this interview, because they asked really great questions that got me thinking more deeply about life and career and pushed me to open me up more on the topic of motherhood and my own struggles. You’ll also hear about my personal style, the aesthetic of my home, where I want to live internationally and lots more. Please check it out. And a few excerpts to whet your appetite…

On motherhood:

“Feeling in a deep and embodied way what unconditional love means: it is a gift. The challenge that comes with that is the vulnerability you feel knowing that unconditional love ultimately means loss. Motherhood has given me the gift and reason to live life fully.”

On personal style:

“My style is classic with bohemian mixed in, and, as much as possible, sustainable. I avoid fashion trends because fast fashion leads to waste.”

Advice to my 20 something self:

“Follow your passions and don’t worry about being practical!”

I hope you’ll skip over there to have a read.

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Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset   You might also like my post: The Love More Stories

Processed with VSCOcam with c2 preset   You might also like my post: Hippies on Nordstrom

Instagram Book   You might also like my post: Confessions of a Minimalist

On doing things imperfectly

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Danielle Chassin Hippie in Disguise
Quality is important, but seeking perfection can lead to paralysis. At least it can for me. I have wanted to start a blog for a long time, but the perfectionist in me prevented me from actually doing it. It had to be perfect, if I were to do it at all.

Perfection can also paralyze people from pursuing change. That is, some people won’t try something if they can’t do it purely or perfectly. Myself included. I’ve heard this excuse many times in response to people telling me why they couldn’t be vegan. “I would totally  go vegan, but I just love cheese/sushi/lattes.” To which I usually respond, “Well, why not be a vegan who eats sushi?” It might not be purist or perfect veganism, but it is a lot closer than not trying at all. I encourage others to find comfort in imperfection, that is, to permit themselves to do things imperfectly. (After all, there are very few things anyone can do perfectly, all of the time or ever.) And yet, I rarely afford myself this same latitude.

And so…after many rational, and many more irrational reasons, for delaying the launch of my blog — yes, mostly related to getting it perfect — I am going ahead now, knowing it will never be perfect and that is perfectly  fine.

For the past two years, I have shared bits and pieces of our family life through my Instagram account @hippieindisguise, and while I think Instagram is an excellent social media platform, I have often wanted more space to write and provide greater detail on our activities, based on requests from my kind and curious friends and followers. On this site I will document the moments I share with my children adventuring around our city to rivers, fields, parks, and pools, visiting galleries and museums, seeking out public and street art, crafting with natural materials, drawing, painting, and cooking — the everyday moments that make up a childhood and connect our family.

I will also share interviews with people who have inspired me as parents, as artists, as entrepreneurs, as people. I think it is really important to honour our inspirations. I want to create a space where I give people credit for the good they put out into the world. Stay tuned, I will post my first interview later this week!

Finally, while I am pursuing a minimalist lifestyle, paring down my possessions to the essential, I will from time to time share products here that I believe are worth choosing, if you are in need, because they are organic, fair trade, or handmade, for example.

So, that’s the plan, it’s not perfect, but I’m okay with that.

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Let’s be friends! Please come find me in other places:

Have you subscribed to the Global Guardian Project yet? These are monthly learning capsules for children and families to learn about global stewardship. Each month features a different country’s wild life, landscape and challenges, and includes art projects, activities, meditation, recipes and more! Use my discount code: HIPPIEINDISGUISE for 10% off, you can read more about it here