longevity is the goal

if we're lucky enough to be here

I had a health scare this past week that shook me.

As someone who spends an extraordinary amount of time and energy into taking care of my body, it felt like a betrayal. It affirmed to me what I have slowly been learning to be true – sustaining a healthy body is no small wonder.

If we are lucky enough to have the gift of time, we’ll spend many decades inhabiting these bodies bestowed upon us. When everything is humming along, it can be easy to not notice. But the moment pain or discomfort arises it becomes obnoxiously apparent how much we take our health for granted.

I’m no stranger to spiraling. I’m as neurotic as the next person. But there is a distinct shame spiral that encircles you when your body falters.

I spent a couple weeks last summer at a very nice resort spa in Mexico that the women in my family have been going to for years. I visited first as a guest and then was invited to return as an instructor.

The clientele is predominantly older white women. A far cry from the commercialized group fitness class experience I’m acquainted with teaching and attending in Los Angeles.

No trending music, no neon signs, no LED lights. Just bodies in a room moving together. Stripped back and real.

Lately, I’ve been growing more and more disillusioned by the state of the movement “industry” in this city. Here, it can easily begin to feel like there’s more of an emphasis on the aesthetic of the practice rather than the practice itself. I notice this tension most when I’m spending more time off social media. More on this later.

At the retreat, every morning began with a sunrise hike up the mountain range surrounding the property. Bodies of all shapes and sizes elected for trails of different lengths and difficulty. It became a daily pilgrimage, so much so that on the rare morning that we opted out it felt like skipping breakfast. Everyone gathers at the main cottage for tea and fruit before making our ascent. I never got used to making conversation before 6 am. Eventually, I learned to hang back long enough to avoid it.

There were classes on the hour every hour of every modality you can imagine. The classes that fill the most? The daily stretch class. Which is basically yoga without the Sanskrit. It was really something to lead a room of people that spanned from my age to 80. I felt so aware in that moment of the fleeting nature of time and the inevitability of the body changing.

In recovering from the episode with my back, I’m learning that the best course of action is to stay moving, however possible. Right now that looks like moving my spine all six directions every morning, venturing out for a walk when I’m able. Sticking to an anti-inflammatory diet like my life depends on it, not because it’s trending, but because it works. Slowly but surely regaining trust with myself.

They say if you don’t pick a rest day, your body will choose one for you. If I’m honest, I spent the month of February running around like a madwoman. It feels like the Universe is signaling me to slow down. My body leaves me no choice but to listen.

At 28 or 82, my directive is clear – I want to feel good in my body.

Beyond the fads, trending workouts, and diets, longevity is the goal.

There is an innate wisdom that our bodies carry, and often we only need to quiet the external noise long enough to really listen.