As I already mentioned in a post, I began to recognize the outdated ways I was leading my life. When the pandemic hit, I finally had the time to reflect—daily hikes became my sanctuary, a space where I could think about the vision I wanted to accomplish in the city. Over time, I came to a difficult realization: I had a lack of commitment to myself. I was too readily available for others, always prioritizing external demands while neglecting my own.
So, I dug extremely deep, taking a full inventory of my life. It sounds simple in a sentence, but in reality, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done—confronting how I had been living on borrowed truths, ones that dated back to the earliest knowledge I absorbed until now, reaching the exact 40-year mark on the first day of pandemic.
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This deep introspection wasn’t just mental—it manifested in my reality. My actual life was dissolving. Suppressed emotions began surfacing, creating stress I could no longer ignore. And then, something even more unsettling: I could no longer do the things I once did. The world I had moved through so effortlessly—hospitality, constant interaction, external demands—suddenly felt like an impossible weight. My mind and body craved sovereignty over my energy. Anything that required dedicated attention to others felt forced, unnatural, draining. So, I turned inward.
I balanced it through movement—hiking became my therapy. Eventually, I joined the gym, which felt like a spiritual practice in its own way—hiking connected me to nature, while the gym connected me to physical strength and discipline. Both became essential—not just for my body, but for my mind and soul.
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Over time, as I moved to the western part of Los Angeles (Santa Monica), my routine evolved. I shifted from solely focusing on the gym to incorporating trampoline workouts, yoga, and deep spirituality. For the longest time, I walked to the gym every morning—from Santa Monica to Gold’s Gym in Venice. I traded my hikes for long walks by the ocean, from Santa Monica Pier to Venice Beach.
I spent a lot of time in my own world, but sharing space with someone whose perception of healing was different from mine gave me the opportunity to see life from a new angle. I became highly aware of patterns I needed to break. Some, I eliminated cold turkey. Others, I unknowingly repeated, dissolving further into them. Then came the between time—Colombia, Curaçao, stillness. No movement. Then, eventually, Marwa’s sessions—small, intentional movements, but more than anything, a shift in the mind. Curaçao to Miami, to Los Angeles, back to Curaçao. A cycle. A freeze period. Through these shifts—geographically, emotionally, mentally—I gave in to pause and feel.
No masking, moving or filling gaps with momentum. My body was on high alert—detecting, blocking, and aware of what aligned and what didn’t. I had an undeniable need to grasp my reality, turn it into action, and evolve.
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I moved forward and made a choice—I began walking again. Early mornings at Corredor became my ritual, a way to start the day with movement and intention. The heat became unbearable, so I shifted and joined the gym. Then came travel—a break in consistency—and now, I’m back with serious commitment to discipline and strength, shaping not just my body, but my mind and soul. And now, here we are—fine-tuning meal plans, building routines, and working with Joel, my trainer, to unstick what once felt stuck.
Maybe you’re recognizing patterns, carrying the weight of unprocessed emotions, or sensing it’s time for something new. If that’s you—let’s take this ride together. This is about more than just wellness. It’s about breaking free, reclaiming commitment to ourselves, and stepping into the life we’re meant to live.
Let’s go.
