On shitty days, finding our breath, gratitude and spicy broccoli
Dear Reader, I have had a completely cranky month. Why am I telling you this? Because if anything could go wrong, come up, feel weird or be delayed - it is and it was. Have you ever gone through a period like this in your life? Even in taking my own Zen advice and that of podcasts, audiobooks and experts, I’m swimming in a sea of crank. I’ve asked the universe what it’s trying to teach me, and I’ve asked God too. The reality is that there is no answer or logic, in the moment, to our delays, pain, grief, fear and shit going wrong or haywire. Our job is to roll with it,
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547.5 Days and Counting
Yesterday, I celebrated 547.5 days of yoga practice. That’s 1 1/2 years. For some reason, I enjoy counting days better because, well, they are cumulatively much larger and hold more weight - at least in my mind. Over the course of the last 547.5 days I have experienced both pain and changes to my body and practice. Through much mental work, because I felt like a failure - that I was failing my teacher, myself and my progress, I learned to let go of thoughts that harm me; understanding that that I do not have to feel like a failure or less rooted in my practice because I have not been able to do chaturangas or full vinyasa classes lately. Yoga means union, and if I’m not one with myself and forgiving of this body and it’s abilities, which will inevitably change over time, then I am not truly practicing the art of uniting or union.
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An Autumn Romance?
It’s hard to describe how I feel about being back in NY. Knowing this time is temporary and impermanent but, then again, isn’t everything? Love, moments, seasons, the places we travel, the places we live, the feelings we feel. NY is that romance I always wanted to work out but just couldn’t, just didn’t, for so many reasons - it was never meant to be or to last. But, fuck, did it - does it - still feel good (well, sometimes). The park breeze and the sun shining on the water, knowing my friends are a close hug and warm meal away. And even with its grit, exhausting energy, highs, lows and air of expectation, promise, hope and excitement - I know it’s not mine.
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With Love From Tina: It’s your time to slow down, feel and eat
Dear Reader, It’s been about 1 month since my last newsletter, and I’ve been navigating a lot of different emotions and feelings since leaving my parents house and returning to New York. In what’s felt like a whirlwind of change, I’m remembering that I am my own constant. How do you ground yourself in times of change? I’m all for discipline, process and routine - a huge fan, in fact - but am finding, much like seasons change, my needs also have to be met differently right now. Have you ever felt that way? Like your routine is no longer working for you where you are?
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S-L-O-W D-O-W-N NOW
The first time I discovered what it meant to slow down, I was living on a small working farm in Ashford, Connecticut. I was 20 years old, 289 pounds and found myself obsessed with one of the sheep. A number tag reading 9509 hung from her ear so, instead of naming her, I creatively called her 9509. Day after day, when I’d return to the farm after a full day of working on campus, I would sit on a plastic patio chair with my journal and gaze out on to the farm. I would write until the sunset on my day, knowing I would rise at 5am to scoop pony poop and, then, shower for work. Daily, 9509 would often lay at the front of the fence, while the other sheep drifted in the field, greeting me every morning and evening.
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On going home: confronting the past + cooking with cottage cheese
Dear Reader, I’m not sure I thought I’d ever see the day where I’d be 44, in Myrtle Beach, SC and cleaning out my parents' spare bedroom off of the garage. Ok, I never thought I’d see the day. But, alas, here I am standing in the middle of my parents living room in a $4 Target t-shirt that says NYC, even though I no longer live there. Note: I am aware that I also look like an overdeveloped 13 year old in this t-shirt. This t-shirt, and temporarily staying in my parents spare bedroom, is a willing and conscious decision that I made in my life after leaving my apartment in Queens and going to Mexico.
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5 Ways to Cultivate Gratitude
If I had to describe what it’s been like to cultivate gratitude in my life, I would say it’s been a lot of work. No, really. Shifting a shitty mindset, or one that we tell ourselves is “good” to a more positive and gratitude oriented mindset is hard. Practicing gratitude actually takes 1) Quiet 2) Patience 3) Commitment to consistency 4) Praying to God, literally. Being grateful is a lifestyle, and I’m not telling you this because I’m perfect, but I am telling you this because I am trying really hard to watch my mouth, think of others when I use my words, and really feel love in my heart. How do you get there you may wonder? I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing. And, yes, I still have terrible thoughts. I even called my mom a chihuahua to her face last week when she lost it over something very small. Two hours before that I said “I’m so grateful for my mom.” Go figure.
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Newsletter Archive: You can't always get what you want, but maybe you get what you need?
Dear Reader, As I just sat down to write in one of my favorite coffee shops I was met with a less than pleasant person from the waitstaff. She took my order and proceeded to blast the music when I opened my computer to write. It’s interesting, you know, maintaining presence and not being attached to the idea that I was going to sit and write quietly while sipping on my ice cold frappe. Instead, there’s reggaeton blasting in the speakers directly above my head and even if I change tables, I can’t escape the sound. It’s hard to not be attached to our preferences and what we would like in a moment. I would prefer to write in peace, but maybe God is challenging not only my patience but my creativity? Is there a gift in not getting what we want - even if it’s really fucking irritating?
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13 Ways To Start Making Peace With Your Body + Yourself
10. You, your story and your body were made in the likeness of God: Ok, maybe this is too far fetched for you and I’m too spiritual, but I had a moment very recently while I was working on my self-talk, that God made me and my story perfectly - even the shitty parts. Especially the hard parts. Even my loose skin is perfect because it’s part of my God given story. When we can deliberately choose to love ourselves and see ourselves in the image of God and the universe, details of weight, scars, marks and trauma can fade. When we can say, I love you, I accept you, thank you for my story - I am here - there is healing and there is moving on.
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Bodies Are Weird And Also Amazing
I’ve lived in my body for the last 44 years and, somehow, she is still surprising me. Rich with story, skin, stretch marks and some trauma; we are still in the process of making complete peace with one another. In the past, when I was heavy, I often thought my life and body would be perfect if and when I lost the weight. I don’t know if there could be a bigger lie that I told myself; that we tell ourselves because I know that I cannot be the only one. I think women tell themselves this lie, and I think men do too. But maybe the truth is, when it comes to our thoughts and self-image, that we don’t speak often enough about the lies we tell ourselves and the hurt we cause in return.
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Building A Life, A Short Journal Excerpt
After a few fast days days in Mexico City, everything about today was slow and steady. I walked around the city in a state of romance, passing the tree where I first got sick in Oaxaca. On my third day of being here, in 2022, I found myself kneeling on this very sidewalk in a state of heat stroke. A race of fast walking, not eating and trying to see every landmark within my 5 day stay in the city center - I learned my lesson. After a call from God, I decided to stay in Oaxaca for 6 months and start to unravel myself. I soon understood why I would push limits to the point of sickness in order to accomplish something, anything. I would soon learn how much control I needed to have in order to feel like I was participating in life.
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Newsletter Archive: 2 years of celibacy, food addiction and fish tostadas!
Dear Reader, Is it strange to talk about giving away our power, celibacy, sex, food addiction, and God all in one newsletter? Well, if so, this week I am breaking the rules and going for it. Without courage there is no vulnerability, and sometimes we have to remove our armor. Thanks, Brene Brown. Because of my foot injury, it’s been another week of stillness. Rest gave me time to let my head and my heart catch up. Do you ever give yourself time to let your heart and your head say hi to one another? You know, so you can be vulnerable and honest with yourself? I don’t blame you if your answer is no, the whole process can be liberating and sickening all at once …
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