In my twenties, I picked up a gratitude journal and instantly resented it.

I found the practice too shallow for my heart to bare.

My Italian roots whispered to me that a life well-lived produces gratitude like a nutrient: One wouldn’t need to search for it if one were planted in the right soil.

And so I embarked on the journey of soil-searching.

I travelled from Toronto Canada to the East coast of Australia and that journey would come strip me of who I was; Take me across the world, force me to detach from my home, my family and friends; burn down the person I thought I would be only to rebuild the person I’d become

In that time I shed countless hopes and goals. I faced debilitating anxiety and many dark nights of the soul.

I lost myself before becoming this version of me, and every step of the way felt increasingly so important.

And now, here I am, many years older.

And the gratitude is overwhelming.

Most people fail in making the switch to natural deodorants because of the myth that natural deo doesn’t work as well as the conventional kind. Here’s the truth: Conventional deodorants are full of artificial and dangerous chemicals. They clog your pores so much that bacteria and germs become trapped. You need to sweat this clog out for a few days (or weeks) before relying on a natural deodorant to keep you smelling fresh.

I had been experimenting with natural deodorants and the workings of my armpits ever since I came back from a one-month excavation in Europe back in 2009. The work was impossible but rewarding: The kitchen was a mess and we had nothing but hardboiled eggs, some sort of pork, and potatoes every day. Clearly this was well before I became a nutritionist. I don’t even want to talk about the outhouse.

I ran out of conventional deodorant and on a whim I decided to just go with it. We were all covered in mud and dirt 24 hours a day, and no one cared what you smelled like in the field.

After the excavation I toured Hungary and took a train over to Vienna, Austria. I got to sample the most delicious food (Hungarian goulash is amazing), delicious wine, some super toxic drink called Polinka that makes your eyes feel like jello, and a wonderful assortment of desserts, including ice cream in the shape of a rose. Did I mention there’s a fountain that spouts wine non-stop for all eternity?

When I got back to Toronto I hesitated to buy new deodorant. Not having the sticky, fabric-scuffing stuff, I felt curiously liberated, so I held off. By the second week of no-deo, not only did I reek, but my armpit sweat got thicker and slimy. It was awful and alarming, but something told me it was necessary. I was determined to sweat this out and I stuck to it by washing every couple of hours to avoid offensive odours and an uncomfortable stickiness.

I’m lucky that I had the sense to allow myself a deodorant break, because I now know that what was happening in my underarms was a type of detoxification that would have never happened had I put deodorant of any kind back on — including natural.

My lucky and smelly 3 weeks (that’s right) of no deodorant allowed for my body to eliminate all of the gunk that was clogging my pores and invading my lymph system. Once my body rid itself of the nastiness, my sweat ran clear and odourless, as it should.

I then purchased a natural deodorant with minerals that inhibit bacterial growth and I’ve been happy ever since. I do not use natural deodorants that clog the pores, and you shouldn’t either. Search out sprays with water bases. Use essential oils if need be, but remember to research which oils are healthy for you lymph and breast. The tissues in this region are sensitive and what goes on your skin here matters.

So how can you begin an armpit cleanse and find the natural deodorant that’s right for you? Easy!

Do it in 3 easy steps.

I met Jess years ago, when I first moved to the Gold Coast. I had made one whole friend; a girl named Asher who was into some seriously spiritual stuff, and was relieved to learn that she came with a group of incredible women — entrepreneurs who were also into the art of the unseen.

Jess was one of them. She wowed me with her effortlessly feminine, forest-fairy aesthetic, but her super laid-back beachbum lifestyle was a lot for my city-girl nervous system to take on. (I’ll save the story of her wild dogs pestering my handbag Pomeranian for another day).

We didn’t mesh instantly, but she was busy with kids and I was busy figuring out how to stay in Australia. Nonetheless, the intrigue was there, and once Jess moved down to Kirra, coffee dates became common.

Before long, I discovered that we shared a bond like no other. We quickly became besties, and I’ve watched Jess’s incredible story unfold — from botanical jewellery to baby bumps in Bali — since then.

I can attest to the magic that this woman weaves, both in her jewellery but also in her life as a friend, a mum and a business woman. She’s inspiring not only to me but to our close knit circle and those who are blessed to call her an acquaintance. Jess is the kind of salt-of-the-earth person who does well by all. She leads, albeit quietly, with a gentle heart, and brings those she loves with her every step of the way.

Living in beautiful Kirra Beach, the sun-kissed days and salty breezes make every moment feel like a little slice of paradise, but Jess’s life has a magic all of her own.

I used to think yoga was to be done a certain way in order to be right, and I’d shame myself for traveling outside the rules of my yoga teacher. I ignored my body’s sensations, mistaking it for the voice of my ego, and told myself to be a good student means to cultivate the ability to listen to my teacher.

As I’ve grown — both as a woman and a yoga practitioner — I’ve discovered for myself the healing that unfolds through listening to the needs of my body. I am learning that an embodied practice, where the student hones into the teachings that stem from within the body — as opposed to an aesthetically correct one — empowers the yogin to trust herself. I now teach this message to my students.

In yin yoga we come intimately close with who we are. We witness our strengths and our limitations, and we come to love all of it.

~

Let’s start with the breath. For every inhale you take, become aware. What does the air feel like as it passes through your nose? Where does it land in your body? How soft can you make your belly as you breathe? Close your eyes and listen to your body’s etheric ocean. Notice the pause between breaths. Notice the exhale. Repeat, repeat, repeat.