The Year of Inhabiting This Life (An Unexpected Update)

A few weeks ago, I shared my 2026 personal curriculum (the self-designed year-long laboratory I'm calling From Excavation to Inhabitation). If you missed it, the short version is this: I've spent years digging. Uncovering who I actually am beneath the conditioning and the performance. And 2026 is the year I stop excavating and start living as the person I found.

(You can watch the full breakdown below.)

February's theme was always going to be Inhabiting This Body. The curriculum question I set for myself: How do I care for, adorn, and move THIS body - and stop waiting for the one I wish I had?

The universe, apparently, decided I needed a little encouragement to take that seriously. 👀

A ton of unexpected back and leg pain showed up right at the start of February (which I'm only now realizing in terms of the timing; how odd). I won't romanticize it - it was disruptive and discouraging at times. 💯

But it also did something I didn't anticipate: it made me more determined, not less.

Pain has a way of making you very honest about what you've been neglecting.

Sleep was the first thing I looked at. I ordered a new mattress. I've been going to bed earlier - and actually letting myself nap when I need to, without the usual internal negotiation about whether I've earned it. No shame, no guilt. Just rest as a non-negotiable act of care for this body.

Movement came next. I've been doing a focused stretch session in the morning before anything else, and stopping through the day to get up, walk around, and stretch some more. Just because this body needs it, and I'm finally listening.

And then there's food. Oh, the food. I fell down the most delightful rabbit hole with food prep - and discovered Souper Cubes, which are these silicone freezing trays that let you portion out soups, stews (and more!) and freeze them into individual portions for easy heat-n-eat goodness. I have made so many things. There's a whole list of what I still want to make. It has become, genuinely, one of the most satisfying parts of my weeks.

But here's the moment that might be my favorite of the whole year so far:

I remembered how to french braid my own hair. 🥳

I had been unable to do it well for years - the muscle memory was just... gone. And then one night I tried again, and it came back. I went to sleep with those braids, and when I woke up in the morning, I had the most gorgeous curls. Just mine. This body. This hair. This morning.

That's what inhabitation feels like. Not the big dramatic transformation moment. The small, specific, this is actually my life moment.

I'm so pleased with how this is all going. The pain pointed me exactly where I needed to go. February's theme met me right where I was. And I'm here for all of it.

More updates as the year unfolds.