coco oil.

please let’s acknowledge the somber and profound moment when our jar of coconut oil in the cabinet is no longer fluid liquid, but a solid and sad reminder of impending cold-and-less-sunlight fall season contained within a glass cylinder from Trader Joe’s. so, too, are my limbs and breath a solid mass when summer leaves 👋 with fall leaves 🍁. shoulders hunch, hurrying to just get home because it’s dark. breath is short: allergies and cold and anticipation. i’m just not one of those ‘fall people’.

in Chinese medicine, fall is the season of the lungs. lungs let us breathe everyday, but whether we take a deep exhale and let go (of summer, sun, what we don’t want, or what we need to grieve) to make room for a deeper inhale that allows us to turn inward (inspiration of the lungs, inspiration in the season change) is a choice, each breath. my teacher @yogabyallison says this time of the year, it’s hardest move, to commit to any breath practice, and thus it’s the most necessary. it just is.

fluidity in the midst of cold, heavy, and dark is difficult work. i laugh, getting mad at that jar of solid coconut oil in my cabinet. but it’s suddenly liquid on warm skin and i exhale deeply and head to bed.