Spending more time in the water. Less on land. No frivolous talk of plans. Just swimming.
Fave lil’ preworkout swim snack. Small bag of sea salt popcorn and a super short hazelnut latte with coconut milk.
I don’t rely on the caffeine to push my workout. I drink decafeinnated tea seven days a week. The occasional latte is a nice way to warm up for these chilly LA night swims. I usually consume eighty ounces of water throughout my work day. So by the time I hit the pool later I’m pretty hydrated. Thinning out any heart rushing effects compliments of Starbucks.
As of late yoga playlists seem to have taken on a purple persuasion. It’s strange. Weeks before your passing I was listening to you on a daily. And now you’re gone.
I hate the celebrity tributes and calculated wording by publicists representing those who never represented you. I hate the coolness of others as they try to hip folk to that which is optimistic when really it’s just another post about themselves.
I weeped in class the other day because I’m still not ready to share my loss with strangers. Not in that moment. Not in that setting. Yoga didn’t help that day. Nor did I bend hope or expectation in an upward direction silently wishing for your return. I looked up anyway. You were not there.
So I carry you with me. Forever in my heart. No matter how heavy the vibe gets. I love you Prince…
Yoga is hard enough. Shit like this makes it even harder. No amount of focused breathing or meditative state can free up the vibe when there are constant disruptions.
- Music is too loud. Hey! guru I’m talking to you. I can’t hear you.
- Body odor. Yogis, wash your ass before coming to class.
- Dirty feet. It’s no treat especially when our mats meet.
- Fragrance is no romance. Ya’ killin’me loudly with da’ patchouli Julie.
- Circus freaks. Acrobats who ain’t in the know and go opposite of the flow.
- Boot camp troupe. Counting down. 1..2…3…Wait! Is this a gym class?
- Monotone zone. Guru, descend from your throne. Falling asleep over here. I am not alone.
- Yogi chatter. Way too much of it. And y’all hella loud. Respect the space upon entering and leaving. Quietly.
I could go on. But it’s 5:37 in the a.m. Need a few hours of sleep before reaching for my next steep.
I will say this. My reluctance to join a yoga studio has not only been because of the exorbitant monthly fees. A greater portion of it is because yoga studios have incorporated so much fitness that it attracts that gym class competitive attitude amongst their clients. No bueno.
It shows a lack of respect and regard for the practice. And it’s annoying as funk. I like when I walk into a studio and I read signs that encourage people to disconnect from the outside once they come inside. But it’s not very often. I’ll let that one sink in. No trend.
Reading more. Talking less. Juice in between. Life scenes.
I’m always moving. Even in my sleep. This funky lil’ green through summer I shall keep. Love my life!
whole frickin’ apple
huge handful of spinach
went with ginger today instead of turmeric
Been gettin’ my chaturanga on, as of late, at Yoga Salt in Culver City. Groovy flow. Shoulder heavy. Keepin’ the vibe steady.
Totally lame title. I know. Super pun-y. I know. Is pun-y even a word? Who cares? Drink your damn kale. Cheers!
some lively kale
unsweetened vanilla almond milk
After yoga. Happy hour. The other one. Post workout recovery vibe. Although I don’t view yoga as a workout. And never will. But that’s a conversation to be had on a Wednesday in the second month of June. Besides I’ve lent out all of the blue soapboxes for the day. Dig on your inner peace. There is no lease. Only life. Not channeling Buddha. More like booyah! I’m gon.’
lots of spinach
Sun Warrior protein(chocolate)
unsweetened vanilla almond milk