Day 170: On and on and on.
Please don’t cry we’re designed to die,
Don’t deny what’s inside,
On and on and on we’ll stay together.
One day we’ll disappear together in a dream,
However short or long our lives are going to be;
I will live in you or you will live in me,
Until we disappear together in a dream.
- Jeff Tweedy
Day 169: Kitchen Sink Dinners.
Sometimes I surprise myself with the dinners I throw together last minute. Leftover red quinoa, homemade leftover pasta sauce, cannelini beans and kale. Delicious, packed with protein, vitamins and antioxidants, and literally took me 5 minutes to throw together in a pot and heat up.
Lesson of the day: Have cooked quinoa and pasta sauce on standby in the fridge at all times. Much more instant of a gratification than ordering dinner off seamless.
Day 168: Rest Now.
After an evening of contemplating the endless cycle of samsara and Patanjali’s path to liberation, I got to wind down with a deep tissue massage from the best boyfriend d on the planet right before bed.
If samsara consists of boyfriends like him who give massages like that, Patanjali really needs to reconsider verse 2.15.
Day 167: Inhale.
It was quite the lovely treat, after sleeping in to get to roll out of bed, make some coffee and hop on a train up to 99U for a midday flow with my lovely TT ladies, followed by some adjustment practice.
Life is good.
Day 166: Late Starts.
Breakfast. It’s what’s for lunch.
Day 165: Fat Tuesday.
After a day of chasing the dollar, going from one interview on the Upper West to a training shift in Downtown Brooklyn - I treated myself to a glass of wine and a salad at Bareburger while I waited for my baby to meet me up once he got off work.
After we met up, we headed down to Smith St, where we stumbled across Bar Tabac - in which there was a love New Orleans inspired brass band in honor of Mardi Gras.
That’s the thing about New York - even if the party doesn’t originate here, rest assured we’ll make sure to bring it here.
Day 164: Doe Eyes.
While sitting in the living room talking with my father, I caught a glimpse of this little guy sizing is up through the window.
Day 163: Soak.
After an intense weekend of yoga TT - nothing called to me more than this lavender camomile epsom salt bath and the musical musings of The American Dollar.
Day 162: Warm Welcome.
Came home from my yoga TT this evening to be greeted by this beautiful sight as soon as I walked through the door.
My man sure does know the way to my heart.
Day 161: Deceptive.
Don’t let the sunshine fool you, poor Brooklyn was fucking brick outside.