Ways to Calm A (Very) Nervous System.

Enjoying my last days of training before surgery.

Lift weights. Push really, really heavy shit because it forces you to focus on your breath and put one foot in front of the other. Which is a solid metaphor for life when you’re navigating intense stuff and about to lose your mind. Put your phone on airplane mode. Pick up your favorite book- the one with dog-eared pages and sentences you’ve underlined. Let old, familiar words wrap themselves around you like a warm hug. Close your eyes, place your hand on your heart, and take a long, deep breath. Exhale deeply. Repeat three times. Wash your face with cool water, then hydrate your skin with jojoba oil and hyaluronic acid. Go outside on a crisp morning and watch the sunrise. Take pictures of the sky and be grateful you’re alive to witness the magic of the morning. Create before you consume. Find the watercoloring set you haven’t used in ages. Grab a blank sheet of paper, dip your thick paintbrush into the colors, and allow yourself to play on the page without judgment. Vacuum. Journal your scattered thoughts, anxieties, and worries on the page. Give them some place to call home that isn’t inside your head. Take a walk outside, even if it’s just to notice the color of the leaves, or the light streaming through the trees on a random Thursday morning. Run yourself a bath with eucalyptus spearmint epsom salts, and soak by candlelight while listening to that old album you loved in 2011. Drive to visit your old friend. The one who reminds you that you’ve survived every nightmare in your life and that you’ve made it through. Hug her tightly. Listen to the Giggly Squad podcast and find yourself laughing again. While you’re laughing, realize how lovely it is to laugh when life has felt so overwhelmingly heavy. If the task takes less than five minutes, just finish it now. Take social media off your phone. Learn to graciously ask for help. Learn to graciously receive help. Because we are human, and we need each other.

Growth.

Every year, I choose a word that acts as my theme. Last year’s word was BUILD. It was divided into five categories of focus: build my speaking skills, build my business, build my body, build my bank account, and build up others.

I completed Stage Academy and 11 months (so far) of Marie Forleo’s B-school. I sent out weekly handwritten notes of encouragement to important people in my life. I explored additional income streams to create diversity.

Even with all the setbacks and challenges I experienced with my hip, I am proud to say that I am the physically strongest I’ve ever been in my life. In the past year, I increased my hip thrust from 180 lbs to 360 lbs, I’m repping out weighted pull-ups and chest dips with a 25-lb plate around my waist, and I increased my bench press to 145 lbs. These numbers mean nothing to others, but to me, they represent my consistency and dedication to progressively overload week after week, month after month with the areas that I could control. I’ve iterated and adjusted exercises to fit what I could do (hello, box squats and sled pushes!). I’m incredibly proud of my progress.

Last year, instead of a single word, my friend Keely chose a color to symbolize the themes and energy she wanted to embody in 2025. I loved the playfulness of this piece of art she shared with me, with all the words that the color orange represented to her.

This year, I chose to do both. Pick a color and a word.

My 2026 color and word for the year.

In retrospect, the most intense and challenging chapters of my life have resulted in the most profound positive growth. Of course, when I was in the thick of huge transitions, life seemed overwhelming and difficult, but emerging from them, I was changed for the better. Growth requires patience. It’s often slow and done in the dark, but the blessings that emerge are beautiful and worthwhile. The color green evokes feelings of abundance, fertility, growth, wealth, and new beginnings.

The lemon leaves on the right side of this piece represent the sour and bitter moments I know I will need to endure, especially during my rehab and recovery period. But I hope they will be balanced out with the softness of the lamb’s ear leaves, and my ability to come back from this injury stronger/fitter/faster. Ivy represents the tenacity I’ll need to continue to climb and grow, clinging to the foundations I know I can rely on- my friends, family, and faith. Ferns symbolize a rich mixture of resilience, adaptation, new beginnings, and magic. All of which I welcome with open arms.

Do you have a word or a color for 2026?

Spaciousness.

Before we create, it first helps to clear.

At the start of the year, I was craving spaciousness. My mental and physical space felt messy and untidy. I was antsy, simply because I was surrounded by so many things that didn’t add value or ‘spark joy,’ in Marie Kondo’s words. This led to a week-long stint of deep decluttering. I donated clothes, books I had read before but no longer fit my current life chapter, shoes that were cute but uncomfortable, bike jerseys and helmets, pots and pans, and a ton of old art supplies that I knew I’d never use. I tossed old journals, photos, and worn-out clothes. I felt like a snake, shedding old skin that represented a former version of myself. I thanked that former self, but understood I needed to rid myself of it to emerge as a newly upgraded version.

Clearing things out allowed me to see everything that I owned. It was eye-opening just how many things were occupying my physical space that simply didn’t add value. Removing those created space for everything I cherished and loved and wanted to welcome into my home.

My mental space also needed a deep decluttering. I deleted all social media apps from my phone starting on January 1st. The difference was immediate. Now, my brain can finally breathe again. I’m no longer scrolling while waiting in line at the grocery store or during free moments between seeing patients. My nervous system is more regulated. Ideas have returned because I’m inviting boredom back into my life. Time slows down now, enough for creativity to plant its seeds in the fertile soil of my quiet and spacious mind. Without the onslaught of reels and dopamine hits and seeing into the intricacies of strangers’ lives whom I’ve never met on the internet, I now have the time and capacity to reflect and intentionally choose how to live my life.

With more spaciousness, I can begin to create from the center- starting with my theme of 2026. From that place, I can begin designing experiences and goals around that theme in ways that feel meaningful and deliberate.

I know this year will be filled with growth opportunities, sweet moments, challenges, and beautifully joyful memories. I hope to arrange everything that comes my way with grace, ease, humility, and patience.

It starts with clearing out space to create from a blank canvas. A tabula rasa, waiting to be filled with life’s art that has yet to unfold and be revealed.

Hope.

With everyone posting their highlight reels from 2025, this reinforced how 2025 was one of my most challenging years. I know pain like a roommate. It’s there when I wake up, when I walk, when I sit, when I sleep. It dictates where I go and what I do. It controls my decisions and what I physically can say yes or no to. It has humbled me more than anything else in life.

And yet, it has become my greatest teacher. I’ve started to look at pain as pure salt. I’ve learned that I can allow it to shrink my world so I am all-consumed by it, like a glass of salt water. Or, I can expand my sense of Self, and my perspective of life in general. Doing so allows me to embrace stillness, deepen my empathy, and better understand those living with chronic pain. My awareness and the amount of bitterness I taste depend on the container that I put it in. I can choose to be a cup or a lake.

I spotted this rainbow on my drive today—a huge symbol of hope. My surgery date is less than a month away, and I am counting down the days until I can resume my normal activities with more flow and ease. Nonetheless, I am grateful for everything this painful season has taught me and gifted me, and for the friends who have consistently stood (and sat) by my side with bright hope and a sense of possibility for what 2026 holds.

If you’re currently navigating a season of pain, know that you’re not alone. Take one day at a time. Or even one hour at a time.

The default mode in these challenging moments is to be a cup. Choose to be a lake.

Emerging from the Pain Cave.

People say love is complicated. I’ll argue that pain is, too. As athletes, we’re told to push past it, ignore it, or even seek it out. But this year, the pain cave I sought in endurance races became my home. I watched as my life slowly shrank as the activities I enjoyed doing outside became increasingly limited due to hip pain. I halted running. And then hiking, because stepping up or down sent shockwaves of pain through my left leg. It hurt to sit. I’d sleep in strange figure 4 positions. But when simply walking on flat surfaces aggravated my pain, I reached my breaking point mentally.

I needed answers, which is what we’re all seeking when grasping for relief. My MRI confirmed my worst fears, yet illuminated a clear, concrete path towards healing. I’m already looking forward to 2026 and being able to enjoy the parts of my life I’ve missed on a deep, visceral, physical, and emotional level.

Chronic pain makes it hard to feel joyful, creative, and positive. But now I understand how many of us deal with it daily. It’s a good reminder that we’re all navigating silent battles under the surface, so being extra kind to one another goes a long way.

September Blessings and Lessons.

Now and then, get out of your comfort zone. Say ‘yes’ to the hike your friend invites you to, even if you don’t know the route or the mileage. If you’re always the leader- planning the hikes and sending out locations, it’s nice to be on the receiving end. We all have something valuable to share with others. The best way to get to know a group of new (and old) friends is to get a cabin in the middle of the woods and invite each person to teach something- whether it’s dance, stage performance, writing, or self-inquiry using nature and patterns. The best way to learn your craft better is to teach it to someone else. Everyone is going through crazy shit. When you can share your crazy shit with others in a safe space, you feel less crazy. And less shitty. The forest is exactly that- for rest. Spending time in nature is the best way to recalibrate and recuperate an overextended nervous system. Listening to a kid play Chopin in the middle of a botanical garden is a reminder that the younger generation hasn’t entirely been consumed by TikTok and Instagram. Neville Goddard’s technique for manifestation actually works. Good sleep is the most underrated way to improve muscle growth and hypertrophy. Progressive overload your training over days, weeks, and months, and you will be pleasantly surprised at how much lean muscle you can put on. Instead of focusing on what is limiting you, focus on what you have control over. Turn off the news. Put your feet in the grass. Go outside and look up at the sky. People can sense your energy long before they speak a word to you. Work on your own well-being, and you will magnetically attract those who vibe at a similar frequency. Focus on having a positive impact, and happiness will follow. Every day, look for a small delight. You will be pleasantly surprised at how beautiful the world can be.

Lessons From July.

The best way to recalibrate your body and mind? Go off-grid for a few days. Wake up with the sunrise and go to bed when the sun sets. The rhythm in your body and bones will return, and you will feel human again. Closure is something you give yourself. It’s hard to be creative when you’re anxious. Fix the root of your anxiety, and watch your creative mojo return. You’re not lazy, you lack clarity. Make a playlist of all the songs you grew up with and share them with a friend on a road trip. Play them on full blast in the car, and recount the stories and memories behind them. The first time you could drive a car and play the radio, the first dates, the first kisses, your first time traveling abroad, the song you played before every race, the album you played on repeat during your commute, the song that got you through your first major disappointment. It will remind you that you have lived and felt and cried and laughed and sobbed and won and made it through, still standing. Waking up for low tide is an external metaphor for therapy- everything that was once hidden underwater is now exposed. You can be disgusted or curious. The latter is always more interesting and insightful. Everything has a season. Sometimes we’re the dandelion flower, the weed, the medicinal root, or the seed pods. It’s helpful to recognize which season you are in and your mission during that time. You can hit your PRs during your luteal phase. The best way to hack your sleep is not only to avoid screens before bed, take magnesium glycinate, take a hot bath, and avoid eating right before bed. It’s to clear out the toxicity from your life so that your mind and heart are at peace. A calm nervous system is the foundation for deep sleep, muscle growth, recovery, and full rest. Your life can drastically change for the better in 31 days. Take it from me.

Trust Your Coxswain.

Deep down, our bodies know the truth before our minds accept it. Our intuition is like a coxswain- small but mighty- the guiding force that steers us in the right direction.

I spent last month ignoring my intuition. The result? My nervous system was disregulated. I was physically exhausted. My sleep suffered, my anxiety was through the roof, and I was unable to create anything.

Starting this month, I knew something had to change. I invited in stillness. I listened to the quiet, all-knowing voice inside of me and took the necessary steps to follow its guidance. I’m already sleeping better. My HRV has improved. My creativity is slowly returning. I feel more like myself. More in flow.

In life, we can’t see the obstacles ahead. We must trust our coxswain- the voice that steers us, that warns of danger, that pushes us beyond what we believe is possible. When we are in alignment, we’re no longer fighting against our lives. We’re flowing with it.

What’s one small action you can do today to honor your intuition?

True Friendship (as illustrated by pistachios).

It started with a simple offering. Her hand pointed to a big cushion next to hers on a wooden floor in the main workshop room at Esalen.

“You can sit here.” It was a gentle invitation which I gladly accepted. Later that evening, we chatted and laughed and shared stories.

The next morning, around 6:30 a.m., I heard a light knock on my cabin door. To my delight, it was Casilia inviting me to walk with her before breakfast. I quickly changed, and we were off to explore the land and find secret places overlooking the ocean.

Her presence relaxed my nervous system. We felt safe with each other- enough for us to share our personal stories of struggle and pain, as well as our deepest dreams. I compared this to other people who I’d known for years, but only in a shallow and superficial way. Simply because we were too afraid to break out of our shells.

In this case, mutual vulnerability allowed us to build trust quickly.

Five days were enough to solidify a lifelong friendship. We left that retreat feeling exfoliated and whole.

Cherish those who make you feel safe enough to be fully seen and completely yourself. This is true friendship.

Just Jump In.

Making art and exploring the edge of what my body can do has always been part of my DNA. Over the years, I’ve found that both of these require similar things: enormous discipline and a unique form of endurance. There are good days. There are sub-par days. There are days when I’m tired and out of ideas and motivation. And of course, there are amazing days when everything clicks and I feel on top of the world.

As with any pursuit worth doing, it begins with simply showing up for yourself.

Doing the thing.

Not researching the thing.

Not asking more people for advice about the thing.

Not hiding by reading more books or listening to more podcasts about the thing.

Simply doing the thing.

So here’s to the swimmers and artists (that’s YOU!) out there. We all know the hardest part is putting on our suit, bracing ourselves against the cold, walking along the cold pool deck, and getting IN the pool. Once we’re in, we’re good. The hardest part for artists is getting started and facing the fear that it ‘might not work’ and just making the thing anyways.

Just keep swimming. And making art. One lap, one brushstroke, one sentence.

But first, you have to jump in.

Good Reasons vs. Real Reasons.

Take a closer look at the words people use. Underneath them is a story.

Within this story, there is a good reason and a REAL reason.

If someone doesn’t want to attend an event you invite them to, a good reason may be, “I’m so sorry, but I already have plans on that day.” But the real reason is, “I don’t want to go, and I’d rather relax and watch football.”

If a personal trainer asks their client why they haven’t been logging their workouts recently, a good reason may be, “I’ve been traveling.” The real reason is, “I’ve been too lazy to prioritize my workouts, and I haven’t fit them into my schedule.”

Both reasons may be correct. But the real reason is the deep truth.

The ultimate goal is to build enough safety and trust so that people feel comfortable sharing their real reasons with you. This cuts to the core faster, leading to more authentic relationships and massive transformations.