The Way of Rest

Today I’m under the weather. So I’m taking it easy, low output, low friction.

For the past few weeks, life has been in front of me, moving fast, and I’ve been eating more of the wrong things than I care to admit. That probably has much to do with why this little bug breached my immune system.

My body’s been whispering warnings. But this morning, it finally yelled:

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? I need real fuel to operate.”

So I listened.

I drank a warm cup of water with baking soda to start the day.
It’s one of my go-to reset rituals. Simple. Old-school. Effective.

It settles the stomach, brings the body back toward a more alkaline state, and reminds me to slow down. The science backs it too, baking soda can ease digestion, calm acidity, and reduce temporary bloating. I don’t use it every day, but when I do, I use it intentionally.

Then came the broccoli. A big bowl, warm and green and grounding.

Broccoli always feels like medicine to me.
It’s not just about fiber or vitamins. It’s cellular cleanup.
That deep-body knowing that I’ve given my organs what they need.

It’s rich in sulforaphane, a sulfur-packed compound that supports detox, bolsters antioxidant activity, and even supports liver health. I don’t count servings. I eat it like it matters, because it does.

And most importantly, I slept.

Hard.

But even in stillness, my mind moves. And of course, it wandered to Kismet.

Snakes, I’ve come to believe, are the most efficient killing machines on the planet.
Precise. Swift. Intentional.
They conserve energy like it’s sacred.

Kismet doesn’t rush. He doesn’t push.
He moves only when necessary, and with purpose.

Watching him reminds me that the most efficient creatures on this planet aren’t the ones who hustle hardest. They’re the ones who conserve what matters most: energy, focus, stillness.

He’s healthy. He’s strong. He’s thriving.
Why? Because he knows how to live.

People? We’re terrible at convalescence.

When our bodies beg for rest, we push harder.
We silence the signs with caffeine and sugar.
We override natural law and call it “grind.”

But today is a reminder.
A call back to rhythm. To intelligence. To wisdom.

To move with intention.
To rest with purpose.
To stop treating stillness like surrender.

Kismet doesn’t grind.
He waits. Conserves.
Strikes only when it’s time.

And he thrives because of it.

That’s not weakness.
That’s mastery.
That’s the way.