have a strong hold on us. They are partly cultural, religious and
personal. Traditions are everywhere and in everything we do: the way we
cook, the way we live, the kind of music we love, the activities we
prefer and the way we celebrate Christmas of course. For some of us it
is THE time of the year, for others, it is a day like any other.
It twinkled just like a star…
Traditions say a
lot about who we are, what we value and what we believe in. My favourite
traditions are those we create with people or groups of people that are
dear to us. In my mind, I have carefully stored certain traditions that
have lasted only a few years, but still managed to touch my heart.
Snowshoeing with my dad is definitely one of those long lost (but not
forgotten) personal tradition.
In winter, our
forest seemed blue; it was like the land of the icy-fairies,
particularly when the sun would shine on the snow and make it sparkle
like a sea of diamond dust.
I was so little and there was so much snow! Snowshoes were
not an option then, we used them daily. It was not uncommon to get out
of the house by the garage door to shovel the snow blocking the front
door. Snow was everywhere; I love that memory because it links itself to
my little snowshoes. It makes me smile and brings me back to the garage
where they were meticulously hung on the wall, right besides my dad’s.
Three winters in a row, my father and I went to the garage after
breakfast with an important plan… that day it was hunting day, it was
treasure quest day, it was victory day! It was the day that we would
come back with that year’s Christmas tree, and I had the honour of
choosing it! WOW!
I recall taking
this task very seriously. I would squint my eyes and scan through the
evergreens to find the one that appeared to sparkle more than all of the
other ones. Sometimes it just felt like it was literally saying: “Hey!
Hello! I’m RIGHT HERE!” Once I had found the glitteriest evergreen of
the forest (that is what I thought anyway), my father and I would ask
the tree if he wanted to come with us. I could not speak their language,
but my dad could and the tree always agreed to come along. As we would
lay it down on the sled, I had mixed feelings, but they would rapidly
dissipate when my young brother and my mother would great us with
screams of joy. They would always agree that it was the prettiest tree
in the world… every year! My adventure would always end with a huge
hot chocolate, it was my prize and I would drink it sloooowly.
Today I still venture in the woods, with snowshoes on my feet, but
I have modified my hot chocolate just a bit. After a nice stroll in the
white covered woods, I prepare a nice fire, and while the logs are
cracking under the heat, I warm-up my hands around a huge mug of
chocolate-mocha coffee. The taste is so creamy, you would never know I
was having a protein meal; coffee mixed with IP’s chocolate drink, and
Phase 4 tip…
weight is not about taking pleasures of life away from you; it is about
replacing them with something even better!
The secret is in the recipe: a cup of creativity, half a cup of
curiosity, 2 tablespoons of positive attitude, a pinch of letting go and
a full cup of adaptability. This recipe never fails! If you need to
change the way you used to eat, know what kinds of food you really like
and find or create their healthy double. Once you have mastered that way
of thinking and doing, it’s all up-hill from then on!
beautiful Saturday, maybe you went to get your own Christmas
tree so I wish for you to have found the best one to make this the most
amazing holiday season ever!