Realizing my previous post was also about my car, I assume you can grasp how important she is to me.

Her name is GiGi. She's a 2011 VW GTI and we've been together for 134,000 miles. Hands down, she is the most expensive thing I've ever invested in, and as a VW, maintenance is also pricey. That said, I take great care of her. She gets oils changes on time, scheduled maintenance, and I happily spend 3 hours detailing her.

Her check engine light came on in early October. After an expensive service to change the spark plugs, I was informed that the CEL was due to a carbon build up on the intake valves causing the engine to misfire. Each time a cylinder fired, the valve couldn't close, so some of that energy would get wasted. My car was putting in all the effort, but only getting out part of the energy. The labor intensive repair would cost about $800.

In simpler terms, I wasn't able to run on all cylinders, but my car still ran. For months, I ignored the ding and flashing light every time I turned on the car. About a month ago, I realized my fuel economy had gone down by about 10mpg. Nonetheless, the repair was expensive and I could still get by on my misfiring engine, so I put it off.

What if we looked at what I was doing to my car and put ME in her place? Taking care of myself until it became expensive or inconvenient. Delaying some serious work because things are operating "fine". Putting in the effort but not reaping 100% of the benefits because I was just not in the shape to properly convert effort to output. It was a ton of energy being thrown into a bowl with a hole.

Do you ever do this? You can see an issue in your life or lifestyle that needs to be adjusted. You even have the solution and the tools to get it done, but you delay it because it's easier or cheaper to just get by as is.

After whining about it, delaying, and shopping around as a means of procrastination, I finally had the repair done. It ultimately cost $1,200 because the issue exacerbated having been left for so long (new fuel injectors).

It's okay though.  Despite the massive cost, I picked up GiGi feeling proud of myself for taking care of her. The cost was an investment in her well-being, a worthy purchase to keep us traveling for many more miles and experiencing many more adventures. I need her to be healthy so I can get to work, to visit family, and to catch up with friends.

Driving from PA to NJ after the repair, I smiled as I watched my fuel economy jump back to it's pre-misfire numbers. It felt good to have taken care of her. It also reminded me how crucial it is that I invest in my well-being with just as much commitment as I ultimately did for GiGi.

Even though I can function with a misfire, I am worth taking care of myself so I can fire on all cylinders. No wasted energy.

My car was out of fuel and a friend, wanting to be helpful, started to put gas in, but it was 89 grade and my car requires 93. This is a fact, not a preference. Without 93, she runs poorly, sputtering to start and jolting during the drive. At 91 she will stall, and 89 is just impossible.  89 is cheaper though, and it seemed out of line to ask for the higher grade when the fuel was being gifted to me.

I watched this happen for a few gallons, knowing full well that the gas would cause more harm to my engine than truly fuel me, but embarrassed to speak up and decline the help. Then the levity of that truth struck me and I stopped the gas pump, saying "My car can't run on 89. It needs 93."

This was a dream, of course. In reality, I would never allow 89 octane in my precious GTI. However, in dreamworld this isn't about gas at all.

There are so many ways this dream could be perceived. It's a mashup of cliches: "Quality over quantity." "Everyone is trying their best." "You can't pour from an empty cup." "Don't settle for less than you deserve."

Honestly, I'm still working through it and the many lenses the scenario can be viewed through. At first glance, it looks like I'm being offered assistance that isn't actually of service, and that I'm feeling too obligated to graciously accept the support without being particular about whether it is actually serving me. I need to exercise my power to speak up and say "No" where the answer is clear.

Maybe it's an encouragement to recharge in my classic introverted ways rather than seek external fuel, which often puts an extra load on my system. Take care of myself in the ways I know I can rather than turning to the comfort of others to cope with feelings of emptiness.

On the flipside, this dream could be a message to me to be cautious about how and where I offer my support. A reminder that if I cannot commit to the whole, high octane experience, I should find a different way to be there. A new way of saying, you can't help everyone, even if you have the best intentions.

Wow, dream interpretation can go so many ways. I suppose the point is to get me to notice what's going on here on the waking plane and encourage seeing it through a different perspective.

What's your take?

Ask me how I am right now and I’ll tell you I don’t want to talk about it. I’m a supercharged ball of anger and frustration. I’m the one honking impatiently at the pizza delivery girl who parked in the middle of the one-way street because I just want to get to my house half a block away. I’m the one emotionally eating buttered bread and drinking red wine alone behind my closed bedroom door. I’m the one who has turned off my cellphone because I need some peace and fucking quiet.

It’s been a long fuckin day. Everything took 3x as long as it needed to and I’m exhausted. I’m wearing my Kelly green Eagles sweatshirt over my crisp white Wentz shirt because I’m proud of the team for winning Superbowl LII, but I don’t want to talk about the parade. I don’t want to talk about it, including I don’t want you to ask me if I was there. I don’t want to explain. I don’t want to explain that I spent nearly 24 hours stressing and having nightmares over whether I should go or not, that I eventually went out of FOMO rather than any actual desire to be there. I ignored my gut and did something because I felt I “should” even though I knew I didn’t want to. I don’t want to chronicle the process of driving around for 2.5 hours before even getting my feet into the city and then eventually having to muscle my way out of the crowd as I freaked out. That among 4 million people, I couldn’t reach a single person I knew. I don’t want to explain that the firecrackers made me hit the deck and sent my already frazzled sympathetic nervous system on high alert, but that I couldn’t find an empty corner to huddle up and cry in. I don’t want to explain why I have unexplained PTSD around explosions and large crowds. I don’t want to justify why I turned around and yelled at the man who whispered “sexy” to me as I walked past him in Fairmount among droves of other women with their male counterparts. I don’t want to explain why I perceived the celebrations were overshadowed by the ridiculous debauchery and destruction, why I turned red with rage every time someone tossed their empty Bud Light can into someone’s bushes and then yelled a rally cheer for the city they love so much yet so mindlessly litter and destroy. I don’t want to explain my exhaustion after it taking 45 minutes to get into an Uber out of the city.

I’m wondering why it’s okay that a bunch of white college students in Philadelphia can trash the city, but everyone is critical when a social justice group gathers at City Hall.

I’m angry. Today was confusing and frustrating and challenging.  It was way too long and I’m tired.

You can have your highlight reel and I’m really happy for you. Your memories are the ones I want to look back on a year from now and say “Ah yes, February 8, 2018 was Eagles Parade Day. Such a wild celebration.” It brings me joy to see your smiling face, or you waving a banner with your decked out daughter on Broad Street. I’m excited to watch your video of Jason Kelce in his mummer’s outfit giving that epic and raspy “Philly fuckin Philly” speech on the Art Museum steps that you could see because you’d been camped out there since 9:00am. I’m impressed with your commitment to your team and your city and the conditions you faced to prove it.

But now I’m tired. I’m excited for today to be over, for Friday to come. I’m excited for the normalcy of it. I’m too tired and angry and emotional to write a Love Note and I’m wondering what would happen if I posted this writing on my blog. I’m wondering if you’d unfollow me. If you’d consider my rawness as complaining. Maybe it is complaining though, who cares? Do you care? Have you never done this? Do I NEED to be happy, to be an example of constant joy and positivity? That’s not me. Today I’m the one that did something out of FOMO, out of a nagging “should” after ignoring my gut instinct even after it brought me to feeling physically ill. I’m the one who ignored her own advice and silenced her intuition.

I’m wondering what your experience was like.

I turn on the water, grab my purple mug and add the lemon juice, ACV, and maple syrup. I crack fresh black pepper until it leaves a fine dusting across the top of the mixture, then I move over to the spice rack (you should see the spice rack at my house) and add a precise but unmeasured amount of ground ginger, ground turmeric, and cayenne. The water is done when the teapot starts to rattle, but not whistle.

Every morning starts with this routine. If you ever sleep over, you'll get one, too.

This concoction is a mashup of Ayurvedic golden milk (made with coconut oil and milk) and a thick turmeric drink called Jamu that I drank on street corners in Bali. If you care, the curcumin in turmeric is massively useful in easing inflammation and is high in antioxidants. ACV boosts gut health while ginger helps to ease indigestion. A pinch of cayenne pepper kick starts your metabolism as it stimulates circulation of the blood. Drinking this golden potion every morning has helped clear my skin, keep my grumbly stomach at peace, and ease chronic muscle pain. Above all, it has given me a ritual I actually enjoy practicing.

It's a way of saying, "Yes, I am fully here and I am ready." In spirituality or religion, rituals are important tools to show reverence and focus toward the moment you are devoting yourself to (that's my own made up definition).

If you drink coffee, that may be your morning ritual. Maybe it's washing your face, or opening the curtains and looking outside.

I just hope it's not rolling over and checking your phone.

Here's my invitation: Ramp up your morning ritual. You don't even need to change the thing you're doing, but commit to the way you approach it. See it as a ritual rather than just a thing you do. Use it as a practice of arriving, focusing, and moving out into your way in an intentional and prepared way.

You could even adjust it to make it a little more special. Use a homemade scrub to wash your face and feel all the curves and valleys of your cheeks and nose. Write a haiku while your tea/coffee is brewing. Say "hello" to each of your plants as you walk around the house. It truly doesn't matter what it is as long as you are present with it.

Turn off your autopilot, put away the social media for a few more minutes, and arrive to your day the way you'd like to arrive to your life - present, focused, and intentionally.

Gina's Golden Jamu
*I don't measure anything, so these are best guesses. Adjust to your taste.*
1 tbs lemon juice
1 tsp maple syrup
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1/4 tsp fresh cracked black pepper
1/2 tsp ginger powder (or 1 tsp grated fresh ginger root)
1 tsp turmeric powder (or 1 tsp grated fresh turmeric root)
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
10 oz warm water


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I've been alive for 30 years and 1 day! I celebrated by going about a completely normal Monday, but consciously and without telling myself "you should be doing [thing]". Well, I did also have some triple chocolate cake for dessert, but that's pretty standard anyway.

This is a big year, a third decade of life. Twenties were an era of exponential growth. The person I was at 22 would not even recognize my 29 year old self. Thirties are for stepping back and saying to myself, "Yea, I know some stuff now. How can I put it to action?" and starting to form a life that is really aligned with who I am.

People I grew up with are approaching their thirties and starting families. Others are across the world blogging from under palm trees. I spent a lot of time holding my life up to theirs and making comparisons and judgments. These days, I finally feel content with where my feet are and I know it to be the starting point for where I'll go next. Always and forever.

We all play this nasty comparison game with ourselves. On social media we see photos of friends and complete strangers living out the life of our dreams. During the holidays we hear about friends who were gifted that fancy new technology. Don't even get me started with the engagements that pop up in the winter season. When we allow our monkey minds to compare our lives to the highlight reels of others, it's completely toxic.

It doesn't have to be that way.

When we find ourselves grounded, confident, and worthy, we can shift our views from judgment/comparison to inspiration. Seeing someone living outside of the box we are see ourselves trapped in stimulates us to wonder how can we move outside of our own limitations. When done in a mindful and healthy way, comparison can become motivation and a catalyst for expansion. First, we must feel safe and sure in our own footprints though. From there, anything is possible.

Our Surf, Service, & Yoga Retreat in Sri Lanka was such a fulfilling success! We all expanded ourselves and learned life's lessons in different ways. That's what travel gifts us - the opportunity to learn something we never expected to learn.

We stayed at Sion Surf Camp, a super laid back spot in Ahangama. It sits across from Devil's Rock and a famous surf break. Every morning, the crew of "real" surfers would line up along the rocks' edge and survey their Lover, the powerful and generous Ocean. I would stand behind them and watch their passion while trying to understand the jargon and make sense of the terrifying waves.

I've never been a great swimmer and my experience with the ocean is generally just dipping in to cool off after baking myself on the beach. Nonetheless, I was in Sri Lanka with clean surf breaks and patient instructors, so I gave it a shot. I started out by telling my instructor that I'm afraid of waves and a half hour later looked him straight in the eyes and said "I'm not even having fun." I expect he probably deals with stubborn learners often, because he laughed me off and helped to push me into the next wave. Lo and behold, when I accepted guidance and stopped trying to figure it all out on my own, I caught the wave AND stood up to ride the whitewater all the way toward shore.

Surfing over the next 2 weeks offered lesson after lesson. Just the same way we learn something about ourselves or our relationship to the world when we step on our yoga mats, surfing offers us the opportunity to learn something about the "real world". One of the most profound yet basic lessons I learned was the value of reading a situation and then adjusting accordingly. I would pop up onto my longboard and feel it wobble as my feet weren't in quite the right spot, so I'd jump off and call it a wash. After exhausting myself this way for a few runs, I realized that I could walk on the board. When I didn't land the way I needed, I could adjust and rebalance in order to ride it out.

How often do you try something new, whether it's an activity or a relationship, and find that it's not working out quite right? Do you abandon ship? Hopefully, you adjust and attempt to find an approach that feels true and stable. When we step into Warrior II, it's a process of finding the foot placement, wiggling our shoulders over our hips, engaging the core, and then stabilizing our legs. It's a natural part of surfing/yoga/life. We can't possibly expect to have things perfect at the start (or ever), but we can certainly adjust to make things feel steady.

Like the practice of yoga, surfing is a lifelong practice. Every wave is unique and the board you ride it on requires different strategy. Every day we come to our yoga mats, our bodies and minds are in a unique state and must be accounted for. Just as we practice yoga on our mats and surfing on our boards, these are all efforts to carry the lessons we learn in to our everyday lives.

If you told me 5 years ago that I'd be hanging out in Thailand like it were my hometown, I'd kindly laugh in your face. If you suggested I'd lead a retreat on the other side of the world, I'd definitely have waved you off. Yet, here I am, living beyond what used to be my wildest dreams.

I think back to getting LASIK in 2014. The surgery itself took less than a minute, and as soon as they pulled the machine away from my face, I saw the dots on the drop ceiling panelling and started crying. When I went to the movie theatre, I felt joyfully motion sick because my peripheral vision was actually sharp at every angle. I could see my toes in the shower and my clock next to my bed. I could swim and look underwater. Sure, I wasn't blind before then, but I had no idea that the world could be so full and vibrant.

That's how I feel about travelling. My corner of the world is amazing in a multitude of ways, and I'd be just fine if I never left it. But then I step out a bit and find that my imagination couldn't have ever created the depth of what I'm capable of seeing, doing, and feeling. It's an exploration of the unknown.

So as I sit on a rooftop patio looking out to the Andaman Sea, I'm reminded that we are limited only by the boundaries we put on our imagination. I'm dreaming big and open to it being even bigger and easier than I can imagine!

We are often asked to set an intention at the beginning of our asana practice. It's a simple idea to come back to, a reminder of how or why we are practicing. I'd imagine we often chose something that we need in our lives off the mat, and so we chose to practice it on our mat. At the invitation to set an intention in a Vinyasa class the other day, my mind's immediate response was the word "honor" and it got me thinking (yes, I know I shouldn't be thinking while I practice) about my relationship to my body, my practice and the concept of honor.

Honor has a myriad of definitions including: to regard with great respect or esteem, to fulfill an obligation or agreement, or to be a privilege.

We step onto our mats with the balance of using our bodies to experience the privilege of the practice and respecting our bodies in the practice. Dance the asana and listen to the response. The Body is both the humble, doting servant and the grateful Queen. The relationship must be fair and balanced.

Then I see another antiquated definition for honor: a woman's chastity, virginity, purity, modesty...

Finding that balance has always felt difficult. How does a woman use her body to fulfill the gifts it affords her, the enjoyment, while also having dignity and respect, especially when honor has historically meant maintaining an untainted and pure body? It makes me think of the Macarena lyrics: Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena, porque tu cuerpo es pa darle alegria cosas buenas/ Give your body joy, Macarena, because your body is meant for giving joy and good things.

I've never quite figured that one out. The dance of using my body to give/receive Joy and remain "honorable" by society's standards seem to clash. So, I suppose my practice is to show up on my mat with the intention of repeatedly exercising myself in a way that honours my body. To find the balance of using it for Joy and pleasure, but still respectfully being with it in order to honor it. To stay engaged and present enough to be conscious with every experience.

How do you practice honoring your body, on or off the mat?

On a lighter note, the crisp weather has encouraged me to start baking and cooking again. Inspired by the rosemary in Yoga Home's community garden plot, I baked these gems for a potluck at Orion Freeman's house concert. Honor your body with some tasty snacks!

Rosemary Lemon Biscuits (Vegan & Sugarfree)

Yield: about 24 biscuits

2 cups flour (I suggest spelt, but use whatever you want)
1 1/2 Tbs baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 Tbs finely chopped fresh rosemary (or more!)
1 cup non-dairy milk
1 Tbs apple cider vinegar
6 Tbs vegan butter (Earth Balance)
1-2 drops of rosemary and lemon essential oils OR
1/2 tsp lemon zest + more rosemary

1. Preheat oven to 450F. In a small bowl, mix ACV and milk. Let it sit.
2. In a larger mixing bowl, mix flour, baking powder, salt, rosemary (and lemon zest if you aren't using oils). Combine and then slowly mix in the vegan butter with a fork. Don't overmix! The butter clumps should break down to be about the size of peas.
3. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir until combined, but don't kill it. Keep it fluffy!
4. Using a lightly floured surface, portion out 1 Tbs blobs and pat them into loose 1ish inch Biscuits. Place on parchment paper on a cookie sheet. They won't expand. Brush the tops with melted vegan butter or coconut oil. Bake for 10-15 minutes or until the tops are golden brown and then enjoy them fresh!

I have a uterine fibroid twice the size of my uterus. It’s a tough, fibrous, non-cancerous tumor sensitive to estrogen and progesterone growing between my uterus and fallopian tube. Fibroids in and of themselves are common among women of childbearing years, but not many have fibroids that grow to the size of a small grapefruit.

I’ve started writing this 7 times, each slightly different. What do I want to say? I’m frustrated with Western medicine. I’m angry that I went to the ER for a diagnosis and they never mentioned what could have caused this enlarged fibroid (though I am grateful for the diagnosis and modern medical imaging). I’m angry that the common “solutions” include hysterectomies, destroying uterine lining, hormone treatment similar to sparking early menopause, and surgeries to kill the fibroid. Western medicine fails to acknowledge that the fibroid isn’t the “problem”, it’s a gracious warning sign that something else is out of balance. It’s my body’s way of alerting me to a deeper issue that needs to be dealt with. Western medicine would have me treat this occurrence only to leave the root issues unresolved and forcing my body to continue sending out its “are you paying attention yet?!” signs.

Physiologically, the cause is a hormone imbalance. My body is processing too much estrogen, either because it’s producing too much or I am taking in too much through my diet. The true solution is to find balance here. Simply getting rid of the fibroid would be like removing the “collapsed road” signs and continuing to drive along. I can do it for awhile, but somewhere down the road I will have to stop. In fact, the imbalance had already manifested in ways like abdominal bloating, water retention, weight gain, and cramps that I’ve shrugged off as minor annoyances. Intense pain was the only way to stop me long enough to actually look at the root of the problem.

Four years ago I read Love, Medicine, & Miracles by Dr. Bernie Siegel. Drawing from a clinical background, Dr. Siegel discusses self-healing and how our physiological illnesses and diseases are actually dis-eases of the soul and the emotional body. We repress something, hate something, or neglect something, and it shows up as a physical manifestation demanding our immediate attention. After reading that book, I had no doubt that I’d one day end up with some medical issue impacting the parts of my body that made me a woman. I grew up absolutely loathing my womaness – periods, the anatomy, wearing a bra, the expectations to not have hair in certain places. When my mom gave me “the talk”, I begged her to make me a boy.

My misunderstanding of the gifts of being a woman and an overall lack of love for my body continued to create unhealthy conditions as I got older. Through my late teens and early 20s I found myself in bad sexual situations, feeling betrayed by both my own body and boys I had trusted. I felt powerless and continued to hate my female anatomy for the trouble it seemed to bring me. I wanted my vagina to be lined with teeth, my uterus to disappear. Is it any surprise that after hating being a girl for half my life, my body reacted? My self-loathing attacked my uterus, the part of my body that is undeniably female.

It was only after my recent trip abroad that I made conscious efforts to embrace it – to be proud of being a woman, a creator, a Goddess in all the ways the divine feminine wanted me to embrace. I’ve experimented with allowance for tenderness, sensuality, sweetness, and confidence. Maybe the fibroid, essentially a muscle mass, is actually my feminine flexing super hard after being repressed for so many years?

Life isn’t always gentle with its messages, but sometimes that’s because the whispers went unheard and I need a blaring siren to alert me that something is askew. As I’m learning, this is another necessary lesson. It’s time to mean it when I say I am going to LOVE and care for myself, especially the parts I’ve historically disrespected. It’s time to accept a bloated belly and weight gain and love my body just the same. It’s time to find balance in being a woman. It’s time to focus on the cause of the issue, to understand it’s emotional and physiological roots, and heal those places rather than accepting a band-aid to make the outside temporarily feel better.
 
I’m going to heal this, but I’m starting at the root of it. I know you want to know what I’m going to DO, so to ease your worried minds: 1) 100% whole food plant-based diet (vegan) 2) acupuncture 3) DIM estrogen balancing supplement 4) emotional healing work for some old wounds 5) spending time with everyday Goddesses who are examples of embracing the feminine 6) loving my body even when it seems to be hurting me

What I need from you: 1) share your concern, but then talk to me about something other than how I’m feeling 2) don’t try to convince me that my fertility should be a priority, trust me when I say I do not intend to have children, ever 3) share your personal fibroid stories and solutions  4) have patience with making plans as some days are good and some are rough
 
In love and eternal healing for all,
G