The Machine

“We don’t know how close we are to feeling good.” Dr. Hyman

This was me today at the doctor (image via Princess Bride Wiki).

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Have you ever worked so much you started to feel numb? This is a familiar place for me. Familiar but unpleasant. Work sometimes feels like The Machine from The Princess Bride. (I was in The Machine today. More on that later).

I have done certain things to reduce this default mode. Some of those things, you may ask? My coach was often an encourager of these. Feeding myself (seems basic, but I have been masochistic); Journaling a brain dump to just clear the nonsense; exercise where there is no podcast or music playing (just feeling the ground beneath and hearing my breath); writing (hi!); taking a walk (with no goal or agenda); cleaning (it’s relaxing for me— I don’t know what kind of syndrome this is); watching something funny (I must laugh out loud— it changes something in me); massage— this is my heaven, even when it’s painful— and when you hold as much tension in your body as I do, it’s always painful; lymphatic drainage (loving my little sculptor with some oil— might try a new system. Dry brushing always makes me feel weirdly electric); sleep (sleep is often the cure to much).

None of this is groundbreaking. It’s the small shifts.

Today, I was going to the chiropractor, and I was listening to Dr. Mark Hyman, and he said the quote above that resonated so much with me. It’s never huge stuff. It’s the small stuff that starts to make the difference. It makes us feel better, human, healing, alive.

I am sharing this with you in case there is an aspect where you don’t feel 100%. Sometimes, in our exhaustion of feeling like crap, we give into despair. Make a small shift. Dr. Hyman was talking about a book he wrote a while back that is a short ten day detox. People who did it saw dramatically reduced symptoms. Some felt like a different person by the end of it. Autoimmune conditions went into remission. It was only ten days. The gold is in the details. Sometimes, it’s not what you take away, but what you add.

I walked across Manhattan (in weirdly post-heat-wave chilly weather) to get to the doctor’s office. My doctor was very concerned with my locked back (hello stress). He literally rubbed an essential oils stick over my mid- and lower back and strapped me into a stretcher machine that resembles The Machine that sucks your life out of you in The Princess Bride. (Ironically, I was strapped in because work is the actual Machine). My head was literally strapped in.

Me, strapped in (image via Princess Bride Wiki).
My doctor checking in on me (image via Princess Bride Wiki).

After hearing a full report on the HBO Tina Turner documentary from my doctor, I walked like a zombie to reception to schedule my next appointment.

“What day?” the receptionist asked me. We had bonded in the morning where we both had to fight together to try and unlock the gate to the office. There we were, two petite women pushing against the jammed gate while rich unemployed people walking their dogs glanced at us with interest. It was resolved when she called the doctor who was already inside and told him to come up and “unjam the damn gate.”

I gave the receptionist my preferred date, but she proceeded to tell me, “Not that day. He is planning a family emergency, and it will end up canceled.” I squinted with confusion, and we proceeded to land a date where neither of us had an emergency planned.

I took a long walk to Canal Street listening to some fabulous podcasts I’ll link below, in case you are interested.

I went to my favorite massage lady (Jenny) to see if she could unbuckle my back. Jenny is a real one. I am half convinced she is a sorcerer because she can read my mind and pain points. The woman is magical. ✨

I walked in, and she had seen me not long ago. My back has been insane lately. She picked out an icy balm and had me lie down on a table, and I kid you not, she walked on my back. I was a toothpaste (the minty oils and balm) scented corpse most of the day. Jenny made my back mobile again (I can breathe). I wandered home with a phone at 4%. If you know me, you know I never let my phone go below like 60% on a good day. Weirdly, despite the fact that it was nearly dead most of the day, it was the most light and unbothered I felt.

Maybe it was the tingly mint thing on my back, the cooler weather (it’s literally cold now. We cannot win), the magical people who helped me today or the good conversations I was listening to. I don’t know. Maybe it was a combination of all of them and my morning routine. But among the small things, there was a major shift. (And this was despite major train delays and having to take four trains home instead of two).

Today, I invite you into the small things. Commit to something small, and it could shift everything. I clearly have a lot to work on, but it’s in progress.

I will drop the best podcasts of this week below, in case you want to listen to some good stuff over the weekend.

Deep breaths!

First, the conversation with Dr. Hyman that I loved:

This one made me smile:

This one on the mind and societal delusion was excellent:

This one for those who want a good and lasting relationship! SO GOOD!

The last one on my TSC Podcast kick was Suebelle— all about Palm Beach and being fabulous.

Happy weekend!

Reflection

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I was walking through the rain today, as finally temps went from 105F to 75F. The cool breeze was like a shock to my body as it hit my legs with the sprinkle of rain.

I got to thinking in my rainy walk sans umbrella— how many people in the world actually reflect? What led me to this thought? The people with road rage who almost ran us over at the intersection despite the “walk” sign, a cyclist who apparently has no brakes, tourists who pretend they are alone in the world— you know.

But seriously— I think the world would be a different place if everyone (every day) asked themselves questions like:

-Who did I hurt today?

-What did I do right?

-How did God speak to me today?

-Where can I be more kind?

-Who can I express gratitude for/to?

-Where do I need to slow down?

-How can I better represent God?

-What am I lacking?

-Where can I contribute more or be more generous?

-Did I eat foods that love me back?

-Does X thought serve me?

Reflection goes a long way.

Heat Wave Texts

Image from Amazon. I saw a girl with a cellphone case like this at church. I loved it.

By: Gabriela Yareliz

It feels hotter than hot in NYC, lately. Also, how is it almost July? Truly. This is our PSA that summer is waiting for no one. As talk of mayoral election swirls in NYC, people are already looking toward fall. It’s insane. We still have three months of crazy heat left. The trash is melting. The hydrants have been cracked open. The ACs are running even though Con Ed keeps texting me at like 10:38pm to “limit” my “energy use.” Yeah, because now is the time to shut off the AC.

Con Ed needs to stop texting me in the dead of night. Boundaries. Cell phones lack boundaries. Our utility companies harass us as it nears midnight. I have been thinking a lot about landlines. I miss them. I remember spending hours on them talking to friends. One of my oldest friends reminded me of the hours we would spend talking about so much. Good God— every glance in the school hallway was a topic of discussion.

I heard somewhere recently that the pre-cell phone era had mystery to it. That mystery made life wildly interesting. Have we made ourselves boring? Are we too accessible? Back in the 90s, if your boss called you at 8pm, someone better be dead. Now, if you don’t pick up, they think you are dead. I mean what have we come to? My electric company has been my top texter this week.

Sad? Pathetic? A little bit of both? Can we bring the mystery back? The hours of speculation are things the kids of today will never have. It makes me sad.

Con Ed— leave me alone. I even have my Kindle charging.

Crown is Up for Grabs

“But what’s more American than insanity?” Brianna Logan

By: Gabriela Yareliz

Guys, there are like 12+ candidates for NYC Mayor. Every day, I see a new sign for a new person. It’s unhinged. Some guy bought like every Hulu ad, and it’s either him or an eczema commercial. Primaries are happening. We’ll see what comes out of this.

The city stays submerged in its steady chaos and decline. It’s like when you go underwater and can only hear muffled sounds. That is the vibe. Apparently, between Mayor and City Council Member the requirement to run is to be a pervert (or at least a ladies’ man), deeply incompetent or both. Lord.

Who will be getting my sassy letter to the Mayor in 2026? This will keep unfolding. The crown is up for grabs.

Atomic Age

By: Gabriela Yareliz

We always live in a time that is a consequence to previous times and actions, and the present day actions will have consequences of their own, too.

As we all wait to see what comes next, I was reminded of C.S. Lewis’ powerful words about living in the atomic age:

“If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things-praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts-not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.”

Antonio

Photo by Lindsay Cash on Unsplash

By: Gabriela Yareliz

The salon was packed with women ready to go on vacation. Today was the day the Brooklyn housewives decided to make a salon stop to make sure they look absolutely fabulous on their trips. There was perfume everywhere and sparkling jewelry sounding like chimes. In one chair, an elderly woman was itching for her foils to be done so she could sit outside and have a smoke. (Not advisable given how flammable the chemicals on her head are). One Greek lady doing only her roots was glued to her phone. They washed her hair, and she held it over her head like a phone addict wading in the ocean (you’ve seen those people at the beach). She went to the heat machines with it glued to her hand. She never looked up.

One woman was going on and on about her vacation to Maine and how much lobster she was going to eat. She didn’t eat for a week, she explained. She was deeply tanned, with freckles on her arms. She was elegantly wearing linen pants, and her gold bracelets would clink together every time she gestured to her stylist whose birthday it was. (They sang to him later).

The AC was blasting and the doors were open to let out the fumes. The espresso machine was going. Gossip was being whispered at reception. I decided it would be a no-phone time for me. I left my bag on a hook by the coat rack and closed my eyes and heard all of the stories being spoken loudly over the hair dryers and spraying hoses. Sometimes, I would open my eyes and stare at the blurry chandeliers with no glasses, everything sparkly and out of focus.

“It’s too hot,” one woman complained deciding to engage with me as I waited for my stylist who was multitasking and doing the most (we were all making sacrifices to make sure we all got what we needed on this overbooked summer day). “I was in Jersey yesterday, and it poured. Something impressive,” she said sliding her sunglasses down over her face and pursing her lips. She was very chic and desperate to talk to someone, apparently, because she chose me, in my Powerpuff Girl t-shirt. Maybe all my lipgloss had made me look more put together than I thought. I smiled (still blind-ish without my glasses) and nodded along as she proceeded to pull up the weather forecast on her phone. She read it out loud to me, occasionally flipping the phone around to show me as if somehow I didn’t believe her. I affirmed her and gave her the solidarity she was looking for.

A woman to our right was going off about her husband Antonio. Me and my chic weather lady decided Antonio was more interesting than a fickle unreliable forecast. We held silence as we heard about his shady behavior. We glanced at each other in disapproval of Antonio, in silent solidarity with the indiscrete lady. What are salons for if not for random free therapy, though? Typically, my stylist and I go off about the failed leadership of the city and corrupt judicial system. Not as interesting as Antonio, but you know, it’s a time to go off over the roar of the heat being blasted into your scalp.

Chandeliers glistened like sweat and glittery sunscreen. Cappuccinos and sparkling water flowed. Stories about mother-in-laws and Antonio’s failings in Brooklyn Italian New York accents flowed harder. “F***ing Antonio,” the woman to our right said loudly over the wiggling blow dryer in her sympathetic stylist’s hand. Fabulous and scathing like a true New Yorker.

It was a solid day inaugurating summer. Antonio, watch out. The Brooklyn ladies disapprove. They disapprove hard.

Florida Forever

By: Gabriela Yareliz

The Florida Panthers are back-to-back Stanley Cup champions. I told you guys, they are undeniable.

One of the TNT commentators (I think it was Lundqvist) said this team is a masterclass in teamwork and the game of hockey. They are.

This team is fierce. Their coach— iconic. Underlying everything is their belief.

I was listening to Matthew Tkachuk, a player they say that shifted the entire Panthers culture, talk about his injuries and the fact that he wasn’t sure he would be able to play in the playoffs. He didn’t just play, he played well. A commentator rightly observed that he was “never a liability.”

TNT’s Jackie spoke to Sergei Bobrovsky who spent the whole time praising the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It was particularly moving, blunt and heartfelt. Belief.

The players continued to underscore how much they love each other and their cover and fight for one another. Belief.

Belief is different from pressure. Belief is different from isolated precise execution. Belief is the thing that keeps you going when others quit. Belief gives you trust in the person fighting alongside you. Belief opens a door to achieve what others underestimate you for.

Last night, all of the pro-Oiler commentators were forced to acknowledge that there is something in Florida that is a force. It can’t be copied. If this were a tree, it’s not a leaf thing, it’s a root thing.

The Florida Panthers are a team of insane belief that leads to a rare grind. There are no star players. Each is integral. Their belief has made it so.

If you missed the game, here are some highlights.

Some words from Coach Paul Maurice.

Florida forever.

Complete. (Via @Flapanthers)