Disclaimer: May cause spontaneous clarity, sudden hydration, minor emotional upheaval, and an inexplicable urge to rehome feral frogs. Not responsible for your colon’s opinion on the matter. Consult your spirit guide or favorite cryptid before beginning.
Let’s get something straight — I love spiritual work. I’ll hike into the ether, crack open timelines, carry the weight of forgotten soul vows, and write poetic scrolls of remembrance for strangers I haven’t met yet but know in my bones. But you know what else I love?
Not feeling like a bloated goblin in the 3D.
So this post is dedicated to my new accidental wellness routine — a humble offering to my physical temple — because apparently, you can’t ascend while constipated.
Morning Ritual: Potion of the Phoenix (a.k.a. “what is this hellbrew?”)
1 heaping tablespoon of apple cider vinegar
A bold splash of turmeric powder (because subtlety is for soup)
Ginger powder and cinnamon (a gentle pow to the tastebuds)
Steeped green tea — warm, not boiling, this isn’t a medieval punishment
Optional honey… for those days when the taste of rage isn’t your vibe
I down this bad boy like a shot of regret. It’s not delicious, but it is holy. The kind of holy that clears your sinuses, rewires your ancestors, and possibly initiates spontaneous colon cleansing. (Seriously. Don’t make plans for the next 30 minutes.)
The Sunshine Mix: Daylight in a Jar
Throughout the day, I sip on my “Sunshine Mix” — a detox water made from:
Lemon slices
Grapefruit chunks
Cucumber
Ginger
All steeped in cold water for a few days, like a spiritual soup. Refreshing, citrusy, and basically what sunshine would taste like if you could drink it. Unless you add ACV to it by accident… then it tastes like betrayal.
Evening Ritual: A Round Two of Righteousness
Same ACV mix as the morning. Just when you think you’ve escaped it — surprise! Round two. Your organs will thank you. Eventually.
The Somatic Stretch: “Releasing the Goblin”
Right after my morning ACV potion (because I need to be at least half awake for this), I sit down on the floor, put my heels together, let my knees fall into a diamond shape, and stretch into my hips and ribs.
It’s simple. No yoga mat. No mantras. Just me, my hips, and the universe whispering,
“You’ve stored 17 lifetimes of grief in your pelvis. Let’s get that moving.”
Some mornings, it feels like nothing. Other mornings, something shifts. Physically, emotionally, cosmically. It’s like cracking your back and accidentally healing your womb lineage.
Bonus Practice: Tapping Into Sanity
Sometimes I add in a bit of tapping — EFT style — because apparently smacking your face gently while whispering affirmations is science now. I’ll tap on my collarbone or under my eye while saying things like:
> “I’m allowed to take care of this body.”
“It’s safe to feel better.”
“Even if I still look like a half-sentient blanket burrito.”
Somehow… it helps. Emotionally. Energetically. And occasionally makes me giggle like I’ve lost it — which means it’s probably working.
Honoring the Flesh Suit
Look, I’ve spent a lot of time tending the spirit — communing with guides, navigating soul contracts, leaving obelisks of light in sacred places. But this body? She’s the vehicle. The spaceship. The little meat avatar doing all the heavy lifting.
So here’s to the rituals that smell weird, taste worse, but work like magic.
I’m not trying to become a monk on a mountaintop — I’m just trying to keep my kidneys happy while I decode the universe. So if you’ve been ignoring your body while chasing enlightenment… maybe it’s time to drink something awful and stretch your hips like a feral frog.
Trust me. The spirit will notice.
If this post had you laughing from both ends
as you stretched, tapped, and baptized your colon with ACV tea…
please consider donating.
Because scroll-writing goblins need hydration too—
and also new pants, apparently.
Support the bodily blessing, the belly laugh,
and the noble cause of sacred silliness.
With reverence, radiance, love and light,
Charming White Eyes