exercises, reflections, and notes to support your wellness journey.

if you’d like to share your thoughts on any post or suggest ideas for new ones, feel free to reach out.



for more than twenty years, i have bled monthly. that is more than half of a typical fertile lifespan spent in a rhythm i barely questioned. but when do the cycles begin to change? what happens to the body, mind, mood, and identity when hormonal shifts occur? and why did no one teach me to expect this?

i remember my mother complaining about hot flashes when i was very little. i suppose that her transition to menopause was synchronized with my transition into rebellious teenage years. we never discussed my periods, and i never got to ask my mother or grandmothers about their symptoms or when their last periods came. they were already gone when i began to wonder.

so i want to speak about it now: about eggs and their disappearance, about the legitimacy of hrt and the legitimacy of refusing it, about the grief and freedom of becoming post-reproductive.

before a girl is born, her ovaries already contain millions of immature eggs, or oocytes. the number peaks in fetal life, then declines relentlessly through childhood, puberty, and adulthood.

the timing of the first period is dictated by genetics, stress, and body composition. girls with higher body fat tend to menstruate earlier, while undernutrition and low body fat can delay puberty. there is also a hypothesis that the presence of an unrelated adult male in the household (often a stepfather) may be associated with earlier menarche.

puberty signifies the beginning of the fertile years, and the body learns to run on cyclical hormones. oocytes go through a massive selection process every month, which allows the ovary to recruit many follicles and choose the one most likely to mature and ovulate.

in adulthood ovulation and stable predictable periods become an important vital sign. by the age of thirty, women are, on average, down to about 10% of their initial egg supply. aging oocytes also become less efficient at repairing dna damage; research links this declining repair capacity to reduced fertility and ovarian aging. this is why dna repair enhancement is an exciting research direction.

perimenopause is a whole-body transition shaped by genetics, reproductive history, stress, health conditions, nutrition, movement, environment, and social context. it often begins in the mid-40s, though it can begin in the mid-30s for some individuals, and it can last for up to 10 years. periods become closer together, farther apart, heavier, lighter, or suddenly absent. hot flashes, night sweats, insomnia, anxiety, low mood, brain fog, joint pain, and changes in body composition (the actual list of possible symptoms is way longer) can all arrive as a system recalibrates. this is where the identity shift begins as well. a woman may be grieving fertility while also feeling relieved by it. she may feel more powerful and less tolerant of nonsense, while simultaneously feeling unfamiliar in her own body.

menopause is inevitable, though i have heard about technology being developed for women who freeze eggs early to implant them later, delaying or avoiding menopause. currently, the most reliable solution for a smoother experience is natural or synthetic hormone support via herbs or pills. certified herbalists can prescribe a combination of herbs suited to your body’s needs, and functional medicine doctors use bioidentical medication; they say that the benefits of hormone replacement therapy are likely to outweigh the risks.

i understand the hesitation around hrt. introducing external hormones into a body that is already inflamed, insulin-resistant, possibly sleep-deprived, or carrying excess visceral fat can feel like adding overwhelm to a system that needs inner stillness and regulation. there should be more awareness of the root causes of modern physical and emotional symptoms during aging and hormonal transitions — in most cases, they stem from disconnection from natural rhythms, movement, and clean food; vitality and body composition changes are tied to the gut microbiome and systemic inflammation caused by lifestyle and environmental toxins.

but “natural” is a slippery word. menopause itself is natural; so are bone density loss, debilitating hot flashes, and years of broken sleep — all while you’re required to perform in the modern world and show up as your best self for your family or career. the question is not whether hrt is natural, but whether it is appropriate, well-timed, individualized, and paired with attention to the whole person. menopause care is not about replacing what is lost, but rather about supporting the systems and the microbial world within us.

gut bacteria may influence how much estrogen the body retains or eliminates. higher beta-glucuronidase activity can increase estrogen recirculation, but this is not automatically good or bad. it depends on the wider hormonal and metabolic context.

menopause is diagnosed after 12 months without a period. what follows — postmenopause — can occupy decades. if we are likely to live long lives, then this is not an epilogue. it is a second half that asks for foresight.

i can’t ask my mother or my grandmothers when they had their last periods. they were all fully decomposed in the soil by the time i became interested in what i have to expect from my body. i have never liked being the daughter of old parents. my mother was 40 when i was born, and i don’t want to be an old mother myself. i have collected a few baby names and signature mommy scent ideas over the last few years, but i don’t want to have children with a non-ideal partner or no partner at all just because of the timing pressure as i’m approaching a threshold.

menopause is not the end of womanhood. it is the moment when womanhood becomes less defined by cycles and more defined by choice. we can meet this hormonal shift with knowledge and with a vision of postmenopause as a long, capable, and potentially marvelous part of it.

the practical takeaway is to have a conversation with your mother about her hormonal journey, if possible, and to start supporting the whole system asap: adequate protein and fiber, strength training, regular movement, sleep, stress regulation, and reducing avoidable exposures where possible. these habits can meaningfully affect energy, body composition, mood, and long-term health.

that moment when you feel like an alchemist sitting in front of all your cute essential oil bottles



i’ve always loved beautiful smells. in the past i spent lots of money on byredo, kilian, and other expensive conventional fragrances. years later i learned that they’re filled with synthetic ingredients. but i stopped using perfumes way before learning about the harm they do to the body acting as endocrine disruptors (because when i shifted towards plant-based diet synthetic perfumes started to feel too invasive).

and over time i fell in love with essential oils. i like creating small scented rituals throughout the day. sometimes i add a few drops of essential oil to warm water before cleaning the floor and turn the chore into a little aromatherapy session. sometimes i make my own oil perfumes — it’s genuinely fun to experiment with scent.

these are my two favorite blends so far. i named them cold sun and warm sun because i love the sun in every variation: pale and sparkling, or golden and enveloping.

for both blends, i use extra virgin almond or macadamia oil from the grocery department (same as I use for my face), they have very little scent of their own so the essential oil blend remains the focus.

cold sun

for 10ml of carrier oil or squalene:
2 drops frankincense
1 drop vetiver
2 drops lavender
1 drop clary sage
1 drop eucalyptus
3 drops bergamot

the mood: sparkling, cool, clean.

warm sun

for 10ml of carrier oil or squalene:
1 drop styrax
2 drops vetiver
1 drop ylang-ylang
1 drop clary sage
1 drop marigold
4 drops bergamot

the mood: golden, warm, and softly sensual.

add the essential oils to the carrier oil, close the bottle, and shake gently. let them rest for one to four weeks, shaking it briefly each day. the scent becomes more integrated with time.

safety note: essential oils are highly concentrated and can cause irritation, allergy, or sensitization; plants are chemical producing creatures and these chemicals may be hormonally active. do your own research about each essential oil effect on the body and mood. and please choose natural essential oils from reputable suppliers if you’re feeling like experimenting.



breathing is one of the few functions of the body that happens automatically and can also be influenced consciously. breathing is also part of our development from the beginning — the way we breathe interacts with sleep, airway function, and facial development.

carbon dioxide is often described simply as a waste product, but it also influences blood ph, the urge to breathe, and blood flow in the brain. changing the pace and volume of breathing changes the balance between oxygen and co₂ and this can produce very different sensations.

breathing and the nervous system are in constant conversation. this is one reason breathwork can feel so immediate. some techniques slow the breath and create a sense of rhythm and regulation. others use fuller or faster breathing, followed by breath holds, to create a more stimulating experience.

one of my favorite practices is coherent breathing, often associated with breathing at approximately six breaths per minute.
the version i return to is a simple six-count rhythm: inhaling for a count of six and exhaling for a count of six (5 minute guided session called «heart coherence breathing» by «breathe with sandy» on YT). the breath becomes slower, more even, and easier to follow. research has examined its effects on hrv and autonomic regulation.

wim hof-style breathing feels very different to me.
the practice generally combines repeated fuller, faster breaths with a breath retention after exhalation and a shorter recovery hold after inhaling. i experience it different every single time. one reason is the effect on carbon dioxide. repeated vigorous breathing can lower co₂ in the blood. this may reduce the immediate urge to breathe, while also producing sensations such as tingling, light-headedness, warmth, or changes in perception. during the following breath hold, carbon dioxide gradually rises again, while oxygen availability also changes. this creates a different internal landscape of sensations and emotions.

turtle breath is another practice that interests me.
you reduce your breathing rate down to 2-4 breaths per minute which activates the parasympathetic nervous system. i first heard about it in the context of creatures that live longer than humans. the image behind the technique is simple and poetic: the slower, more economical breathing of a turtle contains something worth observing as an inspiration for longevity.
the version i encountered involves expanding the belly during the inhale and exhaling through the mouth. in my own interpretation, i like inhaling through the nose with a gentle sound, somewhat like ocean breathing, although that sound is not necessarily part of every version of turtle breath. the technique is sometimes described as a free alternative to hbot.

breathwork is a very valuable tool for establishing a strong relationship with your nervous system. the nervous system changes the breath, but the breath also sends information back. breathwork can transform your mood, health, and help process implicit memories. stored in the body experiences can surface and discharge during specific breathing techniques. your nervous system has its own language and it is present in the pace of your breathing.

hope this information inspires you to learn more about breathwork and feel more connected to your breath. most of the time, we do not need to think about it. breath moves in and out while we sleep, walk, speak, exercise, and experience our lives. yet the moment we begin to pay attention, breathing becomes a doorway into something more intimate. it responds to effort, fear, excitement, and rest. it changes with emotion. it reveals tension if we become sensitive enough to notice and recognize what is already happening.

anja performing hang power clean



the gym is often described as a place of discipline.
you go there to follow a plan, complete your sets, track your progress, and become stronger through consistency. i value all of that. but when i am training, i am not only working toward a result.
i am playing.
i love jumping. i love power training, sprinting, and throwing weights around. i am so passionate about giving my body the movement it really enjoys doing and the gym gives me a place to explore those impulses in a structured way.

for me, the best training marries joy and structure — play needs a container.
a child can run freely across a playground, but the playground still has boundaries. there is a surface, a shape, an arrangement of objects, and enough safety to make exploration possible.
i think about training in the same way. i want my workouts to stay alive. i do not want to repeat them so mechanically that i stop noticing what i am doing. i want room to experiment with exercises, tempos, variations, and sensations. i want to be curious about how my body responds.
at the same time, i do not want every session to become random.
a workout needs a certain architecture. mine usually follows a sequence that moves from speed and power into strength and then accessories. this order gives the most explosive work a place where i can approach it with freshness and attention. power exercises are generally performed early because their quality depends on moving quickly and producing force before fatigue accumulates. then goes strength work, where the goal is to produce and control force against a heavier resistance. finally, i use accessories to address specific muscles and weaker areas. this sequence helps me respect the different qualities i want to train.

i also like to think in movement patterns. i want my training to include pushing and pulling, hinging and bending. a pressing movement can be balanced with a row or pull-up. a hinge can be complemented by a squat, lunge, or another knee-dominant movement.

another programming rule i’ve been trying to implement with more or less success is intensity regulation — i do 70-75% intensity two days a week and two days of 90-95% intensity but energy levels change from day to day and the body is not a machine so i try to hit these numbers but without pressure.

there’s one more reason i do not want my training to become completely automatic. trying something new as a part of play — or trying something familiar in a different way — does more than challenge the muscles.
it also asks the brain to pay attention which is good for neuroplasticity.
a new movement requires coordination, timing, balance, decision-making, and adjustment. even a small variation can change the information the body has to process: a different rhythm, direction, grip, landing, range of motion, or relationship with the ground.
repetition helps me build skill, but variation keeps me present. it reminds me that movement is not just a mechanical task. it is an ongoing conversation between the brain, the body, and the environment.
sometimes i learn something about my strength.
sometimes i learn something about my coordination.
sometimes i simply discover that a movement feels interesting.
that discovery is valuable in itself.

i enjoy implementing science-based exercises and observing how they change my body and performance.
i might learn about a movement that is useful for power, acceleration, strength, coordination, or tendon capacity, and then try to understand it through practice. i notice how it feels, how well i can perform it, how it affects the rest of my workout, and whether it makes sense for me to keep using it (does it support the larger purpose of my program? would i enjoy returning to it?)
science gives me principles. my body gives me information.


joy is not an extra reward that appears after all the serious work is finished.
for me, it is part of the reason i return.
jumping reminds me that training is not only about accumulating weight or improving numbers. it is also about aliveness. it is about coordinating the body, responding to the ground, and feeling force move through space.
when i play with movement, i train more than my muscles. i train my attention, my coordination, my adaptability, and my willingness to be a beginner again. i give my brain something new to solve and my body a reason to keep listening. structure helps me progress. play helps me stay connected.
i need both. without structure, my training could become scattered. without joy, it could become an obligation that i perform correctly while gradually losing interest. the gym is my playground because it gives me a place where discipline and curiosity can coexist.

the best structure does not remove freedom.
it gives you a map.

and after all there’s no evidence that you shouldn’t have fun with your body!

crunchy chocolate high-protein granola



chunky, crunchy, and perfectly not-sweet, this chocolate granola delivers serious plant-powered nutrition

a scoop of soy protein powder boosts the protein content, while almonds add high-quality nut protein and healthy fats. pumpkin seeds contribute iron and zinc, and cacao powder brings rich chocolate flavor plus antioxidants



full recipe

1 cup oats
2/3 cups nuts (I use almonds)
2/3 cups seeds (I use pumpkin seeds)
2-3 tbsp protein powder or flour (I use soy protein powder)
2 tbsp cacao powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 tbsp ground chia
a pinch of salt
vanilla bean seeds
2 tbsp yogurt (I use homemade soy+coconut)
2 tbsp honey
1 tbsp nut butter (I use cashew butter)

liquid and dry ingredients and chopped nuts before mixing together



nutritional value per serving

calories ~225 kcal
protein ~12g
carbs ~17g
fat ~14g
fiber ~4g


bake at 180 degrees for about 20 minutes, cool down, and store in a glass jar

enjoy with yogurt bowls and share your ideas for how else you use it



we all want certainty, happiness, and peace.
we want to know that things will be okay. we want difficult feelings to resolve and for happiness to become something reliable enough to hold on to.

but life is more diverse than that. it gives us excitement and exhaustion, love and resentment, beauty and loss, clarity and uncertainty. and your nervous system has the capacity to hold all kinds of emotions. perhaps wellbeing is the development of enough inner openness to meet each experience with congruence and love.

happiness exists when we are feeling it. i think being content means not holding yourself back from real happiness. for me, one of the clearest examples is a beach day. i love contemplating the water, the sky, the smells, and i feel happiest when i can jump into the sea. there is something immediate about that moment. the temperature of the water, the movement of the body, the sensation of entering a different space: i am not trying to remember happiness or predict whether it will last. i am simply experiencing it.

feelings and sensations may be among our most direct forms of contact with life. they are not always comfortable, and they do not always tell us exactly what to do. but they show us that we are here.
when i speak about needing a baseline of neutrality, i mean that neutrality creates space. it allows happiness to arise without immediately clinging to it, and it allows pain to exist without concluding that pain is the whole truth.

can i notice this feeling without immediately judging it?
acceptance also does not mean liking what has happened. in the context of grief, it can mean acknowledging the reality of the loss and beginning to live in a world that has changed.

when my mother died, i lost a part of myself. my life already seemed meaningless and misaligned. i was not in a place where i felt fully connected to myself or to the direction of my life. then everything seemed to move into another dimension.
i remember thinking: everyone has mothers. i do not anymore. it frightened me that there was no clear return to what i had considered normal.

i was standing in a large room with beautiful plants and lots of daylight, in front of a light-brown wooden coffin that i had chosen myself. in that moment, i understood that i could only accept the fact that we would never see each other again. there was no positive side that could make it bearable immediately. there was only the plain, irreversible reality of it.
grief processing is not linear. sometimes it feels less like moving through a process and more like learning the shape of a new world.

i always felt neglected and that my mother did not give me enough attention and care. after she died, i no longer had anyone to address that feeling to. this was one of the strange contradictions of grief. the relationship had contained love, but it had also contained disappointment. death did not simplify it. it removed the possibility of asking for something different.
we often want to make the dead into uncomplicated figures: entirely good, entirely loving, entirely wise. but real relationships are not uncomplicated. we can love someone and still have been hurt by them. we can feel tenderness beside detachment, gratitude beside resentment.

none of these feelings cancels the others. maybe they are there waiting to get noticed and overtime recycled into something new like everything in the universe.

a full human experience does not require us to edit our relationships into a version that feels more comfortable. it asks us to make room for the whole truth.

i had lived with fear since childhood. it began with the precise moment when i understood that my mother was often sick and older than other mothers. i became afraid of her death. it was my biggest fear, and for many years it poisoned everything around me. every day, there was some version of the question: what if she does not come back from work? what if the painful expression on her face means that she is dying today?
this fear lived in my head for around twenty years. my mother was physically present, but in some way i was already anticipating her absence. she was half-dead to me—not because i loved her less, but because it felt like permanent uncertainty.
when she died, the fear had reached its feared conclusion. it did not mean that i stopped grieving, but the particular fear that had followed me since childhood was dead too. and it felt liberating.

after her death, many unexpected thoughts arose. i wondered about the thirty seconds before and after death. i wondered whether her brain had replayed memories from her life. i wondered whether she was happy when she saw them, or whether she felt satisfied with what she had achieved.
i do not know what my mother experienced. i do not know whether she was frightened, peaceful, aware, or somewhere beyond any category i can imagine. perhaps this is another part of being human: wanting certainty at the exact point where certainty is impossible.

wacky thoughts are still part of life. back then some were philosophical. some were frightening. some were oddly practical. some felt almost absurd. and i think this is normal because when something fundamental changes, the mind tries to orient itself. it asks questions, revisits memories, creates possibilities, and searches for a way to live beside what has happened.
not every thought needs to be solved. some thoughts can simply be noticed: this is what my mind is producing today. this is what grief feels like in my body. this is the question i cannot answer. this is the happiness i can still feel. that last statement matters. grief did not make happiness impossible. it made happiness more visibly temporary, and perhaps more precious.
a full life includes feelings we welcome and feelings we want to resist. it includes joy, fear, grief, desire, confusion, love, anger, wonder, and calm. it includes the ability to be deeply moved by a beautiful day and deeply changed by a painful loss.
no matter what is happening we get to choose to feel what is here. to let happiness be real when it arrives. to meet pain without judgment. to remain open to the fullness of experience, even when it does not resolve into certainty.

if you’re experiencing overwhelming or persistent grief please seek support from a qualified mental-health professional



imagine pulling back from your life until anything you’ve ever known shrinks to a whisper in a universe so vast it’s almost unimaginable. zoom out far enough and all of human history fits into a single breath of the universe. your entire life, with all its complexity and intensity, starts to feel like a flicker. still, in that flicker, you can open a book and let another "flicker” expand what you call “self” into something slightly larger than your personal history alone could make it.

reading is one of the few activities that reliably expands who we are without requiring us to go through experiences. it gives us new words, new beliefs, new permission slips, and new perspectives — anything that may blossom into new parts of our inner landscape.

one cannot pour their experience into another individual. each person discovers reality in their own way, through their own nervous system, history, and meaning-making.

if direct transfer of experience is impossible, what’s left?
inspiration and familiarity.
books can:
- make certain ideas, feelings, and ways of seeing the world feel familiar
- offer language for experiences the other person has already had but couldn’t name
- model a way of being that quietly says “this is also possible.”

this blog post is about reading but i am encouraging everyone to write as well because every human has a unique experience. everyone has a story to share. telling it in a book is both a challenge and an experiment.

writers attempt to compress years of living, feeling, and thinking into sequences of words and build entire universes using only language, rhythm, and imagery. that deserves respect. it takes courage to expose your inner world in a form that can be judged, misunderstood, or ignored.

while you’re reading this if something resonates and feels insightful it adds more possible paths to your internal map and that’s the real power of sharing. and you can meet any writing with curiosity, reflection, and willingness to be changed.

it’s astonishing that humans remain enthusiastic about playing with words when, on the surface, it seems every sentence has already been written somewhere, by someone.
but:
- no one has your exact combination of experiences, so no one can arrange words in precisely your way
- the same idea, in a different voice, can land for the first time in someone’s heart
- context changes meaning: a sentence read at 16, 30, or 50 is not the same sentence.
the miracle isn’t that words are new; it’s that they keep finding new homes.

on the receiving end, we as readers enrich our lives with:
- new words: more precise language for emotions, states, and needs. this alone can reduce inner chaos and increase self-clarity
- new beliefs: exposure to different worldviews challenges rigid assumptions and creates cognitive flexibility
- new permission slips: seeing others live, love, fail, and change gives implicit permission to do the same
- new perspectives: stories from other cultures, times, and identities evoke compassion and broaden the lens through which we interpret our own lives.

over time, these small shifts compound. reading doesn’t just add information; it changes the operating system behind how you think, feel, and choose.

cooking with whole vanilla beans cooking with whole vanilla beans



we don’t just eat to fuel our bodies. we eat to celebrate, to connect, to remember who we are. food is woven into culture, family rituals, and personal identity — so building a healthy relationship with food is essential. and beyond the personal, how we eat ripples outward: our food choices affect the environment and contribute to climate change, which means our plates are also a place where values meet action.

when you cook at home, you naturally shift toward better ingredients, simpler methods, and more presence. you don’t need preservatives because you’re not optimizing for a warehouse, you’re optimizing for a human. that alone makes home-cooked meals generally more wholesome than processed options
there’s also a subtle, often overlooked benefit: exposure to diverse ingredients while cooking can support your skin microbiome. variety in what you touch, smell, and handle in the kitchen gently diversifies the microbial environment you live in — another reason real food isn’t just about what goes in your mouth
and then there’s the energy you bring to the meal. when you cook with care, that intention amplifies at the table. sitting down with family or friends, sharing a meal, slows the nervous system and strengthens connection. that’s not just cozy — it’s regulatory

food is more than just a source of nutrients — it's honoring pleasure and celebration and choosing in a way that aligns with your values.



i read this line in "the body keeps the score": “cultivating sensory awareness”

it’s more than a phrase—it’s a practice. you want to be as present as possible at every moment. it’s the opposite of being dysregulated. when we get traumatized we see things in a distorted way and give meaning to things that they don’t carry which creates disconnect from our own truth. the good news? regulation and presence feed each other. as you become more regulated, you become more present—and as you become more present, you become more regulated

sensory awareness is about accessing the autonomic nervous system through breath, movement, touch, and sensation

grounding exercises like “name five things you see, four you can touch…” are useful, but lasting regulation comes from weaving sensory pleasure into daily life:

- a plant you can touch and feel its living texture under your fingers
- a blanket that’s the perfect weight, warmth (and looks good)
- music that makes you move without thinking
- textures, scents, and sights that evoke an authentic, unforced response

these aren’t indulgences. they’re recalibration tools. when you give your body aesthetically and sensorily pleasing inputs, you un-bias it away from threat and toward safety. you’re not just relaxing, you’re teaching your nervous system a new baseline and as your sensory awareness deepens, you become less reactive and more resourced.



step one

finding your definition of love
what is love?
if the first thing that comes to mind is «for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part» or something of that nature please dig deeper and sit with it
maybe your definition of love is radical acceptance?

step two

imagining you wake up with exactly that thing e.g. radical acceptance
you are the embodiment of it
unadulterated
how would your decisions get changed?
what would you need to let go of?

step three

getting tattooed (optional) — joking :)



YOUR LIFE TIMELINE: CRAFTING YOUR COHERENT STORY

this powerful exercise helps you weave meaningful events, triumphs, challenges, and turning points of your life into a unified autobiographical narrative
by anchoring key moments to five-year intervals, you’ll get more clarity about your journey and identify what shapes who you are today

how to do it:
write down 2-5 pivotal events for each 5-year block (0-5 years, 6-10 years, 11-15 years etc)
helpful questions: what happened that felt truly significant (for instance, a move, achievement, loss, or realization)?
how did it impact your emotions, relationships, or direction?
what strength or lesson emerged?

connect the dots: look for recurring themes like resilience, growth, or shifts in values. reflect: what surprises you? how does this story inspire your next chapter? how can you progress it to what you want to be remembered for?