The Sloth

  • April 25, 2026 10:12 am

Dearest Readers,

Here in Southern Ontario, green things are pushing up out of the ground and myriad colours now supersede the greys and browns. Despite these dark times, Nature insists we celebrate life. I hope you are finding ways to feel wonder and awe amid the ongoing strife.

Another animal story for you:

Last summer, my beau and I visited Espace pour la Vie Montréal, which includes the Biodôme, a “museum of enclosed ecosystems”, one of which houses a Southern two-toed sloth.

The sloth is a big draw. There are images and ads all over the place encouraging a visit to the Tropical Rainforest ecosystem to see the paresseux à deux doigts (a sloth’s French name).

After being hypnotized by the tiny, human-like face of the Golden lion tamarin, a laminated sign directed us toward the location of the sloth. We looked and looked through the dripping trees and lush vegetation to no avail.

Then, we spotted it. The star of the show had climbed up beyond the fabricated jungle, up more than 50 feet above us, up to the concrete, glass and steel-arched roof, wedging itself into the furthest corner it could find.

My heart broke into a thousand and seventy-one pieces. This beloved creature was obviously trying to get away from our staring eyes, pointing fingers and incessantly clicking phones.

But was it?

I just now read on the Biodôme’s website that sloths “spend most of their time in the trees, rarely descending to the ground. They live very high in the forest canopy, at altitudes of up to 2100 m.”

For the last year, whenever I have thought of the sloth, I have felt a great sadness, thinking of it trying to get as far away from us as possible. But it turns out the sloth was just doing what sloths do, living “high” and “rarely descending to the ground.”

The truth is, I have no idea what the sloth feels. Maybe it is miserable. But maybe it’s quite content in its equatorial environment. Maybe it loves the feeling of the cool steel against its thick, wiry fur. Maybe it enjoys looking out through the massive skylight-ceiling at the clouds and the stars. What do I know?

I know that I felt sad. And I need to honour that.

May we all feel our sadness when it arises and take care of our tender hearts when they break.

With love and blessings,

Celia

Catch a Buzz

  • July 23, 2010 8:10 am

Dearest Readers,

It’s a gorgeous morning here in Montreal. I can see blue sky above the red brick houses across the way and the sun is pouring into the sunroom adjacent to the kitchen where I sit.  Outside, the sound of buzzing cicadas makes me think I’m in the countryside on a hot summer day but the airplanes overhead and the traffic on the street assure me I’m in the city.

The Big City. When you live in Whitehorse any city beyond the borders of the Yukon is the Big City. I know a lot of Yukoners who can’t stand larger populations but I love ’em and I’ve blogged often about my fondness for connecting to that Big City buzz.

The small town connection is certainly more personal and that’s what I like about living in Whitehorse. Everybody knows everybody and if they don’t someone will introduce them. The Big City connection is less tangible. It’s not about knowing others. It’s about being an other with a million other others. It’s about a common experience.

Back in April someone sent me a link to a story about a composer named Eric Whitacre who organized a Virtual Choir. Many of you have probably heard of this idea or have already seen it (the YouTube video has well over a million hits) but I finally got around to checking it out yesterday. It got me thinking about this common experience and connecting.

Whitacre managed to get 185 people to sing in his Virtual Choir and despite the fact that each singer was by him/herself, alone in his/her home, the project was a fountain of togetherness. The composer had this to say about the depth of connectivity created by the Choir:

“People want to be together… [The project created] this sense of shared humanity… there is this innate and overwhelming need for people to connect and they’ll do it with whatever means are necessary or available to them… you can have all these people isolated all over the world sitting alone and they go to great lengths to connect.”

No doubt I’ve blogged before about my favourite quote by the great writer E.M. Forster who said, “Connect. Only connect.” It truly is the greatest human need.

And do you know how cicadas make that buzzing sound I’m hearing now? The sound that embodies the hot summer day like nothing else I can think of? By contracting and relaxing their abdominal muscles! Umm… kind of like singing? Indeed, “cicadas like heat and do their most spirited singing during the hotter hours of a summer day.”

Virtually, a choir.

Inspiring Message of the Day: There is Interconnection everywhere and I am a part of it: Technology/Nature, City/Country. I am a piece of the Great Puzzle of Life!

More Swami Sense

  • July 6, 2010 12:24 pm

Dearest Readers,

Sitting here in an air-conditioned coffee shop staring out at the corner of 7th Ave. and West 39th St. in New York City has me reflecting on the incredible adventure I’ve been on for the last four weeks.

The Big Apple is the last leg of the “road trip” portion of my time away from home and I’m only here for a few days before I head to Montreal for the birth of my eldest sister’s first child. Coming to NYC seemed like a fitting way to transition from one to the other.

How I love New York. The buzz of this city is unlike anything else in the world. It’s intense and it can be exhausting, especially in 38C temperatures, but I’m a show biz junkie and this city fills the cups of my dreams.

As a kid, I used to fantasize about living here and being a dancer. When I come here now that wide-eyed, big-dreaming little girl is in heaven.

I have had a couple of plays produced in New York by Looking Glass Theatre and despite the fact that it’s an off-off-off-off-off (keep going…) -Broadway company it was a thrill nonetheless. I’m here to have fun but that won’t stop me from looking for ways to create business opportunities at the same time.

Already I’ve been guided to a potential future opportunity and it happened  totally by “accident”. I was wandering the streets this morning looking for an Internet cafe, turning corners at random and following intuitive leads. I found myself on a quiet street with red-brick buildings and large trees providing glorious shade. I suddenly felt very peaceful.

Up ahead I saw a sign. “No way,” I said out loud. It was a sign for the Sivananda Yoga Center, New York chapter.

In case you haven’t been reading these posts, I just finished leading a course at the Sivananda Yoga Retreat on Paradise Island not two weeks ago!

Not only that, I found a little plastic card with Ganesha’s image on it at the place where I’m staying. When I turned it over to read the back it said, “Sivananda Yoga Retreat, Paradise Island.” What are the chances?

Apparently, they’re pretty good.

I’m taking these signs as Higher Guidance. Why not pitch Cultivate Your Courage to the New York Center?  After all, if I can make it here I’ll make it anywhere.

Inspiring Message of the Day: When you devote your life to serving your Gurus they will serve you right back.