This week, many cultures celebrated something. There was Hindu new year, Eid, and the Persian new year Nowruz. New beginnings abound. The sky is a pale blue, and I overheard a bird song this morning.
I had lunch with a new friend, this week. It was the first time I had lunch away from my desk in a while. It was good for the soul.
Our yummy meal.
I have been deep in my spring reset, cleaning, donating, washing— doing all the things. Yesterday was another action-packed day.
This week reminded me that we need different. We need to step out of routines and the predictable. We need fresh. We need new. We also need old favorites we haven’t revisited in a while.
The plants, the sunshine, the possibilities— all remind us we are alive. What will you do to celebrate your humanity and nourish your soul, this weekend? How will you begin again?
“Maybe there are still dreams inside of you that have not yet come to light.” Brianna Wiest
Have you thought of the fact that you haven’t yet dreamed up all the dreams you will dream? Is there something emerging for you? Are you building up your courage? Are you prepared for the unexpected?
Keep space for the dream that hasn’t been born yet.
“And it’s funny how often we have to course correct and bring ourselves back to these simple habits. Because life changes, routines shift, and suddenly the things that once grounded you fall out of rhythm.”
Kenzie Burke
By: Gabriela Yareliz
Every time I hear a podcast with a health expert, the interviewer often asks for a tip or secret hack. Often, there is no top secret hack that is special. Often, what works is going back to the basics. I was listening to James Nestor who said a breath solution will “bore you to tears.” It’s that simple.
It has been a season of finding my rhythm again and simplifying. Winter can throw us off, in some ways. A big thing I wanted to do this year was simplify the clutter of subscriptions and things I try. I love being a guinea pig. (I do it wisely, not wastefully, but it still takes up time and energy). I achieved the simplification, so far.
I completed many courses I was doing, narrowed down coaching resources, narrowed down workout platforms I have time and energy for— all the things.
I am still on round 600 of cleaning my closets and clearing out things that are years old that are done. I really need to get my husband closet space. This week, I did a preliminary round. It’s still too cold to swap closets to warm weather clothing, but I managed to get three small donation bags out of this round. Cleaning closets is a full workout. *see me sitting on a pile of hangers with sore arms*
I found a nice drink to help replace/kick my matcha habit. It was killing me. The level of inflammation I was allowing to just have some fleeting energy and not drag myself was detrimental. (Let’s be real— I was still dragging myself). As someone who grew up on no regular caffeine (just the occasional soda with pizza), it just doesn’t agree with me. What is my new drink of choice this week? Ballerina Farm’s Hot Chocolate Bone Broth. Yup. Already putting into practice my Chinese Medicine course.
I see a girl scrolling and looking at social media marketing on this train that smells like pee (I kid you not). Even the before-and-after plastic surgery posts are advertisements. Everything is just so extra— reaching. Where has our simplicity gone?
James Nestor stressed that so much of today’s disease is a disease of “civilization.” Going back to the basics has its benefits. And it’s not about cutting or having less (I don’t like minimalism for the sake of minimalism) but about focus on what works; the quiet vs noise. Or a phrase I heard recently, “signal over noise.”
“We always want something else, isn’t that interesting that this is how we operate?” Theo Von
You know me, I am no minimalist, and I don’t promote it. What my thinking is it’s more about coming back to center. It’s not about reducing routines or steps or factors but about going back to the ones that ground and heal. It’s about focus.
It’s time again for the warm drinks, the white rice, the slow movement with breathing, echinacea and the things that spark joy. Notebooks, pens and the warm socks. A card in the mail. A book with beautiful illustrations.
One woman was 13 when the abuse began. Some were 8 or 9. Horrible to let that sink in.
Dolores Huerta and other women have come forward to detail the abuse they suffered at the hands of Cesar Chavez, the NYT is reporting in an explosive report. There are archives, recordings and 23andMe tests linking.
It saddens me to think of how long women have silently carried their stories of molestation, abuse and rape (in some cases secret pregnancies) and giving children up for adoption and the shame that all this brings, culturally. Sadly, I find that in my culture this is not rare or strange. And it honestly makes my blood boil like when the water is popping out of the pot.
When my mom brought the news to my attention, I was shocked. I hadn’t heard, yet. I, like many others, have always held Chavez in high esteem. I worked with (and advocated for) farmworkers during my undergrad years. I have always been passionate about the plight of the farmworker. This broke my heart. It made me wonder what triggered this revelation. I am glad it happened. The truth shall set us free.
I can imagine people stayed silent on this for a long time for many reasons. I am sure one is that this man is so revered in Hispanic culture. You don’t understand the amount of murals his face has made its way into. We have few heroes, and here is one that turns out to be worse than a piece of sh*t. Typical.
One of the women, Ms. Esmeralda Lopez said to the NYT recalling what she told her mother after meeting him (where he propositioned her)— “Cesar Chavez is just a man.” A sick man at that.
I can’t even write about this in any poetic form—
I am tired of society going off of optics or what things seem.
I am tired of people’s agendas, charisma and/or talent overriding their character.
I am tired of weak preying men who lack character. The society we have now is a reflection of what is rotting people to their core.
I am tired of (and enraged by) men who abuse girls.
I am tired of men who abuse women.
I am tired of men who think it’s ok to cheat on their wives.
I am tired of men who attempt to look pious and “lead”, when they use power for personal gain and manipulation of innocents.
I am tired of a culture that allows, shields and looks the other way when there is abuse present.
I am tired of young women not having support and feeling alone.
I am tired of a culture that normalizes all of this behavior and excuses it, allowing it to thrive.
I am tired of a culture that always shifts blame and/or responsibility to a woman because it can.
We are tired here, and so f***ing pissed.
“Cesar Chavez is just a man,” Ms. Lopez said. These mf are all “just men”.
The only thing we have to hold onto is the justice God promises will come. Nothing will be hid. Everything will be unveiled. No one will be able to hide.
Dolores Huerta via NYT.
For the time being, strip that mf of his presidential honors, his day, his parades and blot him from the murals. Replace him with Dolores Huerta, a woman who led the movement while suffering heinous abuse. Honor her for carrying all of this weight for years. For carrying two of his children as a result of such abuse. It’s backbreaking pain. Heartbreaking pain. Honor the tragic silence she kept because she didn’t want to harm her own community. Let’s honor that strength and resilience, because that sh*t is supernatural.
I am sick to my stomach because Cesar Chavez was “just a man.” But I say we honor Dolores Huerta because she is not “just a woman.” She represents a Hispanic woman in all of her strength, dignity, resilience and poise.
“The biggest unlock of my 20s: Ask for things. The raise. The introduction. The favor. Most people never ask because they fear rejection. But your silence guarantees it. If you’ve done the work, ask for the crazy thing. The world rewards those who ask. Closed mouths don’t get fed.” Sahil Bloom
There are some wild product reviews out there. They can be the most fun part of the website— kind of like the comments section.
This sad review comes from Mrs. Pam, and it’s about a heated razor. But it’s also about more, you know? It’s about relationships, disappointment and self-worth.
This post was like talk therapy in a review.
Mrs. Pam— I feel like it’s time to know your worth and stop gifting this man anything, including your presence…
Also, I love how she still gave it three stars.
This man sounds like a mean alcoholic who needs intervention from professionals. Give yourself the gift of freedom, Mrs. Pam.
This morning, the bridge looked metallic silver in the bright sunshine. A good Friday morning to you!
The train is quiet aside from gentle sniffles and the train conductor who sounds completely unhinged, but it’s not his fault— it’s the intercom.
Most people’s eyes are closed. We made it. Even the girl with the cup of boba milk tea is asleep. There are two exceptions; actually, three.
There is a guy scrolling through the New York Post app next to me. Iran, Iran, Iran! The screen screams.
There is a young girl in a hoodie (how is she not cold?) with her hood up, and she is quickly writing into a small blue notebook. It’s refreshing to see a young person not in her phone. Her sneakers are wildly clean (got to ask her about that).
And then, there is me. Earmuffed and tired but ready to drive the nail in the coffin of this insanely draining week. This morning, I discovered a whole market exists on Etsy selling Punch the monkey keychains. Genius and adorable.
I am craving a simmering hot cup of ginger tea, which I will prepare once I settle into my office. It’s part of my ritual along with turning on my space heater that will convert my office into a lovely little oven of comfort.
This morning, as I paid some bills and tithed and did all the things one does when paid, I did my gratitude prayer. And beyond the needs that are always met and God’s abundant provision, I sat and reflected on the everyday rituals and things that make life better: my pile of blankets, tea, my supplements, pen and paper, veggie delights and the word searches my husband saves for me from the paper.
Despite the chaos, there is a lot to be grateful for. Make your list today.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 