ANother Saturday Morning

It’s Saturday morning, the sun is amazing and I can already tell it’s going to be a beautiful day but I can’t help but acknowledge my overwhelming feelings of creativity, gratitude , and enlightenment, despite the fact that I am extremely behind on my school work, I’m ‘broke’, I’m behind on organizing deadlines, and have tons of unread important emails, I have an injured back, I’ve missed 4 classes this week and a million other things society tells me I should worry about.

Whenever my roommate is home for the weekend I literally spend most of my time butt naked in my room. So here I am, writing, trying to make sense of what I’ve been through to make me feel better about what I have to go through. Not wearing any clothes doesn’t make me feel any more empty, just as filling my lungs with smoke doesn’t make me feel any more full. I don’t know what to write—so I take an inhale as deep as I can, holding it in until I’m satisfied enough—my body knows this feeling. I can’t help but think where I was a year ago. I feel more at peace and I feel more myself than I’ve ever been before and it has nothing to do with this herb, his love, her touch, or they’re oppression. Every part of my being has changed and it has all come from sitting with myself. And now I’m doing something I never thought I would do….Image

When My Mornings Started Changing My Life

According to Ayurvedic philosophy, choices that you make regarding your daily routine either build up resistance to disease or tear it down and the way you start your day is incredibly important because it is an opportunity to set your intentions for that whole day.

Having Fibromyalgia makes my mornings the most difficult part of the day. I physically cannot sleep more than 7 hours even if I really wanted to because the longer I sleep the stiffer and more painful my body gets. This is how my mornings used to be:

I literally dealt with  stay up really late and sleep in till the last possible moment. Waking up was painful, if I hoped out of bed within the first minute or so of waking up the whole room gets blurry and I get nauseous and feel like throwing up.

When I finally got the stability to get up, my entire body is stiff and in pain. Extra inflammation in my muscles may have been caused by processed foods I ate the day before and I am definitely not happy.  I can put both feet behind my head but in the mornings I can barely bend half way to my toes. I used to mindlessly wake  up and the the first thing I did was turn on my computer and probably go straight to my email or facebook.

I wasn’t mindful of anything in my body, didn’t notice the weather, and never even thought to take 5 minutes to ask myself “How do I feel today?” and sit with that. Doing these simple things in the morning allows me to come to terms with how I feel- weather it’s good or bad, and allows me to acknowledge that that these feelings are temporary, as all things are.

Creating this awareness instills a responsibility in making every moment count so that I feel the way I want to feel, and there are no excuses for having a “bad morning”. I don’t have time for that shit. Nobody does.

Now, I get up anywhere between 7:00 am – 8:00 everyday, (it varies because I don’t use an alarm). I’ve trained my body to just do this on its own but it ultimately depends on how much sleep I got the previous night.

Getting out of bed takes about 10 mindful minutes to wake up all the muscles in my body. Practicing yoga has taught me how to isolate my muscles and awaken them one at a time. I wiggle my toes, twist my ankles in circles, flex by calf bones (one at a time) and flex in my knees and thigh muscles. I begin bending my back, extending my neck and flexing my arms. This feels lovely.

Once I am ready to actually get up I do not go on any social networking sites, I do not look at my phone or even turn on the music. If it’s not too cold outside, I will go out to my balcony (where I have my yoga mats and a peaceful meditation corner) sit for a few minutes.

This is more practical if I even set a distinct time like “at 7:55 I will sit for 5 full minutes and do nothing.” I try not to talk to any of my housemates and just worry about myself. In this state, I can really hear the ocean calling back at me and the birds singing in the palm trees.

Depending on the morning, and how my body feels, at this time I sometimes pack a small bowl — not enough so that i actually really get HIGH but enough that my muscles don’t feel so stiff anymore.

Sometimes I’ll do a “mind dump” and write all the things that are on my mind in an effort to tangibly and actively clear my mind. If it turns to be a list of intentions I’d like to follow through with I keep it. If it turns out to be things I wanna let go of, I burn it. ( I have large candles and glass bowls here too) Then I do a few Sun Salutations appreciating and honoring where I am in this moment, because despite ALL that I’ve been through, I’m still HERE.

Taking time to do these things in the morning cultivates mindfulness, a sense of patience and self- discipline, and an appreciation for myself.
NOW my day begins…..



Isla Vista has shown me how trading and handing things down is so much more fun and meaningful than buying expensive shit in a store and being attached to it. I don’t want a new sofa, call me crazy but I’d prefer the faded, lighter burnt, glitter stained, half tie-die hippie sofa the fourth year you looked up to smoked their first joint on. I’m going to start keeping as little material possessions as possible and strategically start giving my things away so that my little stories can be scattered around all the places I’ve been & by the time I complete my undergrad I can just leave anywhere in the world with a backpack and not a single worry in it.

Feminist Studies is a Thing?

It’s so cute when people curiously ask me what i can do with a fem major…
I just get all giggly and say let’s make an even SHORTER list –
of all the things i ‘CAN’T’ breakdown.

& then i wanna give them a Gloria Anzaldua book and change their life.



They Don’t Understand Me Gloria


my intersectionalities are your sociology project,
my history is a rhyme

this bridge called my back is not an excuse,
for you to take your time

just because somebody explained you their story
doesn’t mean their survival is a shared glory

if I tell you a secret will we be closer?
if we invite you to dinner will you come over?

dis-acknowledging difference between ally and friend
this bridge called my back, doesn’t ever really end,
this bridge doesn’t know, just how to pretend,

or how to fake a smile & let you fucking use it
conversation about power,
but not about who abuse it

talking about solidarity like
it’s you who can do it.


I’m tired of people knocking on my door. In Isla Vista a lot of landlords have just listed the houses and apartments that are available for next year. College students have gone crazy to be the first to apply to certain places. I live two blocks away from the beach and two blocks away from my campus, I recognize that I am a fortunate person and I’m always down to meet new people but don’t come knocking on my door like it’s suddenly OK to not even introduce yourself, say hello, look me in the eye, shake my hand, or acknowledge that this is my home before you ask how much my rent is and when I’m gonna be out. Who the fuck are you? Real people still live here.

I hesitantly but optimistically open the door to rude ass privileged college kids who don’t even look me in the eye, yet expect me to acknowledge all their questions then walk away. I’ve really never understood the term ENTITLEMENT until i came to live in Santa Barbara. Did you fuckers get this from your rich parents, or?…I love living in an apartment on the beach but i love community and respect even more.

that’s why i made this blog anyway, so i can vent & show you my insides. 

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