Soul Food

Yoga is my mind and body's soul food. My love affair with yoga started more than ten years ago. I don’t remember what prompted me to explore it.  What I do remember is going to the Integral Yoga Institute in New York and browsing in their book section after I had gotten the courage to enter this Mecca of spirituality. Even though, the staff was extremely friendly, offering me different class options and saying Namaste every chance they got, I was not ready to venture past the book section just yet....When I try anything new that has the potential to be life altering, I like to research my subject, feel it out and get familiar with any terminology used. So I bought a “how to yoga book” with lots of pictures and grabbed a schedule of classes and events.

As I walked to the train station through the grungy yet quaint West Village neighborhood, I remember being excited and wanting to jump right in and learn all that I could. But I wasn’t ready to expose my interest in yoga by reading the book on the train. Back then, yoga wasn’t as popular as it is now, with yoga studios literally everywhere.

As soon as I got home, I opened the book and completely immersed myself…days later, when I “thought” I knew enough, I started trying to imitate the poses in the pictures. Do you know how hard it is, reading the text, looking at the picture and trying to get your body in that position? Hard!..Frustrating and a bit discouraging, not at all what Yoga is about…Yoga can be a challenge but it should be a steady ascent to the Divine within you. I highly recommend that a newbie take a beginner’s class or workshop. One that slowly walks you through the poses and the breath before you attempt to follow a book or DVD, so you can learn the proper alignment and prevent any possible injuries. If you are too intimidated to even attempt a beginner’s class then take a few privates. Private instruction is tailored to your level and specific needs. It's a worthwhile investment since all the attention is solely on you. If you are on a budget, hire a student teacher, many of them need the practice and they are extremely eager to give you the best yoga experience at a rate that benefits you both.

 After taking a few classes, I was eager to expand and grow my yoga practice. I kept trying out different studios and teachers, to see which resonated with me.  The more classes I took, the more I was getting the nudge to explore the possibility of an in depth yoga training...maybe a teacher training? I wanted to learn enough of it, so that I could do my own sequence of poses at home. But a teacher training? I wasn't sure. So, I kept pushing the thought away. Just looking at some of the poses and the level of commitment required gave me anxiety.

 A few months passed and I was standing in some airport’s book store browsing. I can’t remember where I was going to or coming from. I love airport magazine stores...something about the look, feel and smell of new books and magazines makes my heart skip a beat. I usually buy a magazine that is filled with fluff pieces and lots of pictures. Something to distract me but not enough to keep me from falling asleep on the plane. So there I was, staring at the wall of magazines, zeroing in on the Yoga Journal publication, pretending I was looking at something else. I stood a safe distance away….toying with the idea...I walked away to another section, picked up a glossy picture filled magazine, trying to distract myself….it wasn’t working. I replaced the magazine and I went back to where the Yoga Journal was. I stared at it, willing it to give me answers…..”Should I buy it?….but I’m not the crunchy granola type...I’m more glam than crunchy….or am I?” As I picked up the magazine, I said in a low voice, “Ok, I’m officially the weirdo buying the Yoga Journal...” I practically ran to the cashier, paid for it and shoved it in my bag, casually looking around to see if anyone had “seen” me. But I was secretly dying to board the plane so that I could read it from cover to cover.

 When I started reading it, I got the chills. This was definitely what I wanted to do! In what capacity, I didn’t know but I knew I wanted to learn all there was to learn about yoga. I think I even got teary eyed but who knows, I could be making it up in my mind for dramatic effect. I folded over the corners of practically every page that contained interesting articles. I was vibing with the articles, the quotes, the pictures of the models in different twisty positions. I wanted to immerse myself in everything yoga! I specifically wanted to learn the basic poses so that I could replicate them at home. I also wanted to learn how to adjust myself in class, so that I could rely less on the teacher...since sometimes, the classes are so packed that it is impossible for the teacher to assist everyone.

After researching the different programs and different styles of yoga available in Manhattan, I found a studio, yoga style and program I liked. It was ISHTA Yoga, www.ishtayoga.com. I could do a one month long, 200 hour teacher training intensive. And if I wanted to learn even more, I could take the advanced training for an additional 300 hours. If I did both programs, it would be a total of 500 hours of teacher training. For the 200 hour training, I would be committing to five days a week from 8AM to 5PM and on some days until 9PM. The 300 hour training was a nine month program with classes held every weekend. I would basically be eating, sleeping and breathing yoga. And I would have to either quit my job or ask for a sabbatical….I had a lot to think about.

I decided to do some “recon” and take a few classes, to see if this place was for me. I started with one class, which I loved! And ended up going three times a week. In the beginning, I hurt in places I didn’t even know I could hurt. But I would walk out of class completely blissed out, loving the whole world. I stretched, lengthened and contorted my body in unimaginable ways. One of the side effects, was an improvement in my posture. I stood up straighter, and I looked and felt taller. And I fell in love with the studio and the teachers. But I was still undecided about doing the program…..Until I spoke with ML, a relatively new friend and one of my first champagne buddies. I told her about the yoga program and the concerns I had. She waited patiently until I finished and then said, “Margarita, you have to do this! You should see yourself when you talk about it, you light up! You can also hear it in your voice, there's a certain ring to it.”…..She was right, so I did it!....Greedy me, I did all 500 hours! Thank you ML!

I’m so grateful I did it! I met three of my best friends in the program and they have been my life line ever since. The program also blew my mind, strengthened my body and gave flight to my soul. 

One perk of the program, was an unlimited yoga pass. I could take as many classes as I wanted! I was going there practically every day. Yes, I was doing that much yoga...I remember one particular class; it was a level 2 class. We were already halfway through it. I had been so focused on my own breathing and correct alignment; I had failed to notice the pregnant woman diagonally in front of me. I probably didn’t notice because from behind you couldn’t tell she was pregnant. But she had to be at least in her 6th month…..I was impressed and inspired. I got back to focusing on my breathe for the rest of the class until the very end, when the teacher told us to get into a pose of our choosing before corpse pose, the last pose of the class where you get to do nothing  but close your eyes and relax....and if you are lucky the teacher comes and "massages" your forehead and neck with lavender essential oil. This is my favorite pose!....While I was still thinking which pose to do, I see the pregnant lady calmly doing a headstand in the middle of the floor, no assistance whatsoever…..Are you kidding me???...Wow! I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped to the floor while I was pretending not to look....I can’t do that and I’m not even carrying any extra weight.  I admit it, I was a tiny bit jealous....just a tiny bit...but then I thought, “Good for her!” She’s probably been doing yoga for a while and knows what her body is capable of...on the other hand, she probably can’t do other poses that I can easily do, whether it’s due to her condition or because her body is not flexible in certain ways that my body is. Eventually, I was the one doing a headstand, forearm stand...still working on my hand stand though...

We are all on different journeys; we should honor and respect that in ourselves and others. Just because we are “Grown Ups,” it doesn’t mean we should have it all figured out. We should go for what lights us up, like yoga did for me...You never know what will happen when you decide to go for “It" and step out of the box and out of your comfort zone…

in love and pleasure,

Margarita
The Twinkie Angel

Touch

You know how some days you just need a hug, just to feel a connection….human contact….We are so busy these days that even when we are around our friends and family, we rarely touch. In our society it is often taboo or even “bad manners” to be so touchy feely. 

A few weeks ago, I found myself craving a hug….a big man hug. I wanted that masculine protective energy wrapped around me that only a father or brother can give unconditionally, no strings attached. I wasn’t going to be around any of the men I trust and feel comfortable enough to ask for a platonic hug….What to do?

Then it hit me! I needed a massage from a male massage therapist. Yes! It had worked before. I picked up the phone and immediately made an appointment. What better way to have a man "show up." He has to be on time otherwise he’s fired, so he’s reliable by default. He does what I tell him to do…ok, because I pay him...small technicality...He has to completely satisfy me while keeping his hands in the designated “safe” areas.…and at the end of the service, I owe him NOTHING but a tip. I don’t need to massage him back, or take turns to make it “even.”….lol…And the only expectation I have, is to get a deeply relaxing massage....Before I go any further, let me just say that I also love female massage therapist because when I need nurturing, reassurance and compassion, they offer that and more. Their touch is very healing.

So, I booked a 75 minute treatment, fully taking advantage of spa month. For those of you, who have no idea what this is...it’s an amazing bargain! During certain times of the year when spas are experiencing low season,  these spas will offer their services at discounted prices. Even some of  the fancy spas do this, so if you’ve always wanted to go to one but thought it impossible, nothing is impossible! Not only do you get a great discount but you also get to enjoy all of the spa’s amenities…the sauna, steam room, lounging areas, pool…all of this is included in the discounted price!

My appointment was set for early in the morning. This particular spa is a hamam, Turkish style baths, with do it yourself hydrotherapy treatments. One of the do it yourself treatments is to submerge yourself in the jacuzzi and then immediately submerge yourself in the cold plunge pool, "shocking" the body into releasing toxins stored in our cells while also improving circulation. All I know is, that after I’m done, I’m sooo mellow and blissful….now can you imagine this combined with a massage? Heaven!

I wanted to arrive an hour early. Since I’ve been to the hamam many times before, I have a ritual that helps me get into the groove of things. I check in, get my robe and almost run to the deliciously warm marble floor. Yes, warm marble! You see there’s a tiered section right when you walk in that is heated marble, kept this way by hot water running under it...I disrobe…..yes, nothing under but my bathing suit!....forgot to mention the hamam is unisex, men and women share all the common areas. I grab two towels, place them on the floor and lie down. Ahhhh…I’m home…with my eyes closed, I adjust myself finding the perfect position. I take a deep breath in....and I slowly exhale....releasing any tension I might have…I breathe in again and exhale again, this time melting into the floor, letting the warm marble embrace me. I always fall asleep. For how long? I don’t know but it feels so good when I wake up and open my eyes. 

As luck would have it, on the day of my appointment, I forgot that school started an hour later! I no longer had the hour to luxuriate in the hamam before my massage. “Ugh! Not good, not good!”….and so my relaxing day was spiraling downward...into a stressful car race south bound on traffic jammed Biscayne Blvd. I could feel myself tighten up, barely breathing, telling myself, “relax, breathe, breathe….your timing is perfect.” I arrive….frazzled with a minute to spare, trying to look and feel calm. I’m told told that my massage therapist is running a few minutes late. Yes! Wait…is that going to cut my appointment short?….oh, It better not or someone is going to get it! Fortunately, it didn’t. I had time to put my robe on and relax a bit in the lounge area. No time for the warm marble but I could do that after.

I was greeted by Max, massage therapist extraordinaire. He asked me in an undeniable Italian accent, “Are you ready?”.....Oh, Yes, I’m so ready, massage me into submission please! He leads me to a  treatment room where the most heavenly music is playing, my favorite, Deva Premal’s chants.  I can already feel myself floating into the stratosphere as I lie on the table covered in the warmest of blankets, shielding me from the room’s cool air. Max starts, massaging, kneading and pressing, unraveling all the knots I have. He has “magic fingers.” His fingers seemed to be dancing on my back….swiftly, with the deepest pressure while still being gentle...How was he doing that? I was enjoying his touch, mentally complimenting him, saying, “that’s good, how about higher?” The next thing I know, he's massaging the very spot I was thinking of…What! No, has to be a coincidence…so I thought again, “Max a little to the left, please?” A few seconds passed and he moved to that spot! OMG! He can read minds, great! I don’t have to talk, I love it. I don’t know if he can read minds, or not….I believe he was just so in tune with my body, he knew what it needed.

After the massage portion of the treatment was over, he leads me to the hamam and he gives me water infused with lemon. He leaves me there, promising to return shortly.....When Max returns, he is carrying bowls filled with fragrant concoctions and he’s wearing a sarong?! Yep! A sarong….this should be interesting? In the name of self care, I surrender to this experience. I lie down in a bed of plush towels. There’s one for my head, one under my knees and quite a few under my body.  Let me tell you, if you are not use to receiving and being pampered, it can be a little weird and intimidating to have all that undivided attention on you. Thankfully, I’m all about self care and “researching” all kinds of self care rituals. So when he gently “threw” water on me, from my feet to my neck, prepping my body for the scrub, it was quite startling and hysterical at the same time. I kept my eyes tightly shut, to keep myself from laughing. Those of you who know me, know that I laugh at the drop of a hat. For me, not to bust out laughing, was a feat.  As I kept my eyes tightly shut, I thought, “this is one for the books! Now how can I surrender to the experience and enjoy the rest of the treatment?” After a few seconds, I had it! I’ll “be” Cleopatra! And Max can “be” one of my servants, giving me the royal treatment I deserve. Yes, I can totally do this! ...Cleopatra had it made. 

Using coconut milk and a small towel, Max started scrubbing my feet making his way to my neck. He scrubbed my legs, my belly….scrub, scrub, scrub….everything was perfect, until I started wondering how the pressure in his scrubbing had remained the same even though he was reaching from the bottom of my feet all the way to my arms, using his hands…..or was he?” “Oh, don’t look, don’t look, please don’t look! If you look, you’ll break the spell! Don’t do it!”….curiosity got the best of me, so I peeked with my right eye….."NO! Be Cleopatra, think Cleopatra! Breathe, oh please erase, erase the blurry image of Max scrubbing me with his foot!” I kept on telling myself not to think about it and to go back to pretending I was Cleopatra. It sort of worked. Thankfully, the treatment was over in a matter of minutes and I was washed down with water again.  Then Max walked me to a stainless steel bathtub filled with hot water and lavender salt crystals.  He held my hand as I got into the bath, immersing myself in the sweet aroma of lavender. The hands on part of the treatment was over. Aside from the small glitch with the “foot,” the whole treatment was fabulous! Max sure knows what he’s doing.

As I floated in the water, and I digested the whole experience, I thought…You can be married and touch starved. You can be having sex and still be starved for love, warmth and touch. Most of the times all we really need is a hug, a pat on the back or someone to really listen to us and “get us” at a deeper level. In my case, all I needed was a good massage, a chat with great friends and a truly sweet hug from my daughter. 


Remember to love up the people you care about...to ask for hugs and to give them more often.

in love and pleasure,

Margarita

The Twinkie Angel

If you are interested in a consultation, my monthly newsletter or to subscribe to my blog, go to my website: TheTwinkieAngel.com , click on the Contact tab and send me your information.

Forbidden Food

We are so hung up about what is forbidden, that we forget to enjoy ourselves. When I was a kid, forbidden things were like “don’t talk to strangers”...don’t eat candy from strangers....and on it went.....do you think we remembered and did what we were told?  No!

When the Mr. Softee ice cream truck came rolling down my street, playing its sweet jingle and I bolted down the stairs of my three story walk up, the only warning I got from my mom was, “Look before you cross the street!” I was allowed to indulge in any ice cream that Mr. Softee sold. My favorite was the chocolate ice cream cone dipped in chocolate sauce that would harden. It was fun, there was no pressure, just pure enjoyment.... 

A few years ago, I made ice cream my forbidden food. And it wasn’t because I was afraid of gaining weight....I’m lactose intolerant and if I eat too much, as in everyday, I suffer the consequences....bloating and feeling crummy. Not fun.....So where does the forbidden part come into play? I don’t remember the exact moment when it started but there I was....diving for Haagen Daz’s dulce de leche. I would be strolling down the supermarket aisles getting closer to the refrigerated case where the ice cream is kept and talking to myself in my head. I'd be saying, “NO, you can’t have ice cream, you know how it makes you feel after.”.....“Well if you buy the small one, it’s ok, plus you can share it.”  Guess which won out?....As soon as I was home, I would grab a spoon and dig for all the caramel not the ice cream because in my mind, I wouldn’t feel bad after...since I wasn’t really eating the ice cream. I’d be there in the kitchen kind of hiding, digging for all the caramel...smashing the ice cream from side to side in search for the gooey, sticky, syrupy sweet dulce de leche. Let’s just say that smashed up ice cream, that’s refrozen does not look appetizing or the slightest bit inviting to anyone else other than the one who did the smashing. Nobody wanted to share...oh well, more for me!.......which had been my intention all along.

Around the same time, I was taking a self growth course. One of the exercises was designed to “out” yourself and your forbidden food. Instead of eating your forbidden food in the corner of your kitchen with the lights out while everyone is sleeping, we were to invite “it” to the table in broad daylight....ok, how? The facilitator of the program asked us to pick a spot on our bodies and place the forbidden food there...and fully experience the food...its taste, smell and texture as we very slowly licked, nibbled and sucked it off our body. WHAT?!....was she crazy? How does she expect me to do that with ice cream?....  

Just thinking about it made me feel exposed and silly but then I thought, why not? I have an “open mind,” I’m willing to try things once. I started sitting at the table but that didn’t seem fitting...I moved over to the cool granite counter, I looked around to see if anyone was watching me, impossible since no one was home...I scooped a bit of ice cream and before it melted I placed it on my forearm, no easy feat...I closed my eyes and took my time just as the exercise had demanded, after I was done, I was laughing, smiling, in awe that a simple exercise like the one I had just done, had such a euphoric effect....Interesting? The one teaspoon of ice cream had been enough. While I was reflecting on what I had just done, my cell rang....it was my then newly minted boyfriend....I tried to sound as “normal” as possible, a bit hard while smiling from ear to ear....I had a yummy secret! He could tell something was up by hearing my voice, he’s professionally trained to notice these things....and if I lied, he could tell that too....So, I came clean and told him. He was more intrigued than shocked and wanted to see for himself but I told him that the exercise was done for my benefit and I wouldn’t be repeating it...maybe.

Fast forward to a week later.....I had completely forgotten about the whole ice cream thing. We were out to dinner, the waiter comes around and asks if we want dessert. He looks at me and says, “how about ice cream?” Huh?...ice cream?...oh ice cream..oh no! Are you kidding? NO WAY!..WHAT?!....well, if I’m doing it purely for my enjoyment...what am I saying?!, oh screw it, ok. All these thoughts were running through my mind with the facial expressions to match....

Regaining my composure, I asked the waiter if he could bring chocolate syrup and strawberries with the ice cream. I looked around the restaurant and as far as I could see, there were no other customers in our section...was I really going to do this?! Oh yeah....the waiter comes back, places the ice cream between us, I notice that they’re three strawberries and a dollop of chocolate syrup. Come on! Did they run out or what? The waiter is about to leave when my BF tells him, “you should see what she does with ice cream? Before I had time to react, the waiter pulls out the chair across from me, sits down and says, “ok, I’m ready.” WHAT???!!!! He’s so dead!...I can not believe he just told the waiter and the waiter is sitting across from me while my BF sits next to me with a huge grin on his face. Fine, I can do this! And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it, ha!...I take a deep calming breathe, scoop a very small amount of the already melting ice cream, place it on the top of my right wrist and close my eyes. I cleared every thought in my mind and any noise around me, it was just me and the decadent, creamy rich ice cream which I slowly licked and sucked until there was not even a drop left on my wrist. I wasn’t trying to recreate an adult film scene, I wasn’t looking for approval, I did it for my enjoyment. It was more of a challenge to myself...being able to enjoy myself no matter where or with whom I’m with....When I was finally done, I slowly opened my eyes and looked at my rapt and speechless audience. All the waiter could do was get up and leave...quickly returning with a huge plate of strawberries and a saucer full of chocolate syrup, as a bonus. He also told us, we didn’t have to give him a tip, that watching me was tip enough and then he invited us to visit him in Italy for the summer.

I can honestly say that after that, I didn’t feel the need to have ice cream in the house and shortly after...I gladly gave up ice cream made out of dairy. It was just not worth having my body complain about it.

Unless, it’s harmful to us and/or detrimental to our health, why stop ourselves from fully enjoying our favorite “forbidden foods” in small quantities. The more we avoid something, the more we are drawn to it and the more it comes at us full force. Why “fight” it, embrace it instead, you may no longer find your self craving it as much or even at all. So, go and experiment with yourself or a partner, just be careful where you put the “food”.....you don’t want to end up in the EMERGENCY ROOM!...explaining to the nurses and doctors why you’re there.....but if you do end up in the ER, please share the story with me! I promise I won’t post it, unless you give me permission to....lol

Cravings come in many forms. Recently, I was craving human touch in the masculine form, a platonic hug to be precise....I got something even better!....tell you next time....

in love and pleasure,

Margarita

The Twinkie Angel

If you are interested in a consultation, my monthly newsletter or to subscribe to my blog, go to my website: TheTwinkieAngel.com , click on the Contact tab and send me your information.

So why do I call my blog, the Twinkie Diaries? Well, it’s the first “treat” I can remember looking forward to, every week when I was a little girl. And frankly, I can’t come up with any other name that I like, or that tells my story with food which is not always about eating the right foods but about enjoying the foods that I do like.

For me, It was a weekly ritual, going to the supermarket with my mom, knowing that at the check out counter there it would be....my little slice of heaven, a fluffy yellow sponge cake with it’s sugary sweet white filling wrapped in a shiny clear wrapper...ready for me to enjoy. I remember salivating at the thought of licking the icing off. Even though I don’t eat them anymore, just thinking about the creamy, sugary smooth icing is making my mouth water. Did mention, I have a sweet tooth? 

So there we’d be, my mother and I waiting to pay. I’d be scanning the TV guide figuring out what TV show I’d watch while I savored my twinkie. I would save the twinkie for later when I could enjoy it without interruptions. Which meant that I would have to WAIT until after we walked home and ate dinner to eat my twinkie. Talk about delaying gratification. Was I a patient little girl or what?.....I wonder what happened? HA!

But once I sat down to eat my twinkie, I was in a trance. I didn’t rush and tear the wrapper. I would gently pry it open at the edges. I would close my eyes, bring it close to my nose and inhale it’s sweet aroma for a few seconds. I would then break it in half, right where the icing was and slowly lick the icing, filling my mouth with sugary sweetness. In between eating the spongy cake and licking the icing....I was in heaven. And nothing else mattered and by the time I finished, I was completely satisfied. I was full and didn't need a second one. I wasn't craving for more sweets, I was content.

Something about really taking your time to savor and enjoy the food you are eating regardless of what it is.....is deeply healing. Of course, it’s better to go for whole foods with real nutritional value that heal the body from the inside out....but once you come to terms with “forbidden food”, you won’t crave them as much or even at all.  

Which in my next blog, you’ll see what I mean. Let’s just say it involves some more licking, this time ice cream and with a rapt audience....

in love and pleasure,


Margarita

TheTwinkieAngel

If you are interested in a consultation, my monthly newsletter, go to my website: www.TheTwinkieAngel.com, click on the Contact tab and send me your information.  Or to subscribe to my blog, go to  www.TheTwinkieAngel.blogspot.com