How I Start the Day

I lost myself once. Not all at once. It happened quietly, over years, in the rush of ordinary life. And I did not find my way back in a single moment either. I found it slowly, one small morning at a time.

So this is how I start the day. Not an ideal day. The real one.

The first thing I do, before anything else, is give thanks to our Father. I am awake. I am alive. I say a small prayer. That part is private, and it stays private. But the feeling behind it is simple gratitude. It sets the tone for everything after.

Then a small tonic. Some mornings it is warm water with lemon, or raw apple cider vinegar. Other mornings it is warm water with a spoon of coconut or olive oil and a little ginger. I alternate. I do not like being too rigid, and routines deserve a little change too.

Then I sit for meditation. Twenty minutes. This is the one practice I never let go of, through everything.

After that I move. Fifteen minutes of stretching and breathing, then twenty-five minutes with elastic bands. A lot of it comes from an old Taoist practice: slow breathing and gentle movement that wake up the senses. Nothing fast, nothing hard.

Then breakfast. Always with some protein.

That is the first hour or so. Nothing here is dramatic. That is the point.

Around midday, usually noon or one, I put on the Mendi headset, a headband I use to train my focus. It helps me break the stress that builds up during the day, before it carries into the afternoon. I have been testing it a while, and for now it stays.

During the day I also look for nature, even a small piece of it. A garden. A park. And when I can, a real immersion: a mountain, the sea, a forest. Even a few minutes outside change how the day feels.

I eat as naturally as I can. Fruits, vegetables, protein, and fish often.

Right now I also take Mitopure capsules twice a day. The idea, in my own words, is that they help the small engines inside our cells, the mitochondria. I am still testing it, so I hold it lightly. Plus a few supplements and vitamins. I try other tools too, like the Apollo wearable.

I should say this plainly. Some of these companies now send me their product to test. That does not buy a good word from me. I wear a thing for weeks, not days, and I only keep what earns its place. When something is still on trial, I tell you so.

Before sleep, when I can, I meditate again. Ten or fifteen minutes. It closes the day the way the morning prayer opened it.

There is one thread through all of it. I try to stay connected. To nature, to the people around me, to every living thing. For me some of that is what I would call Christ consciousness, my own name for the feeling. You do not have to use my words. If you feel more like yourself when you step outside and breathe, you already know what I mean.

People ask what changed me. They want the one thing. The breakthrough.

There was no breakthrough.

I have lived this way for more than twenty years. Consistency is what helps. There is no magic. It came slowly, one ordinary morning after another. Coming back to myself was not one moment. It was showing up, again and again, until the practices became part of who I am.

Right now I am reading a book called Four Thousand Weeks, by Oliver Burkeman. He says that if you live to eighty, you get about 4,000 weeks of life. That is all a life is. If you are in your thirties or forties, you may have around 2,000 to 2,500 weeks in front of you. I do not say this to make you sad. It is the opposite. The point is not that time is running out. The point is that the weeks you have left deserve to be lived fully. Life is short. Be brave with it. Stay close to who you really are, and use your weeks for what you are here to do.

You do not need my whole routine. Start with one thing tomorrow. A glass of warm water. A minute of quiet. A word of thanks.

Then do it again the next day. That is all it takes. That is all it ever took.