'NYC Fit Living'

Ah, the mind, old friend—what a marvelous, mischievous thing. A shapeshifter. A cunning beast. It whispers in the quiet and roars in the storm. One moment, it fuels our greatest dreams; in the next, it lures us to the brink of disaster." "We’ve all felt it—that wild surge, that dark pull rising like a tidal wave from the hidden depths of our being." And before we realize it, we’ve done the very thing we promised ourselves we wouldn’t. The beast smiles in victory. We kneel—we have fallen once again. A familiar cycle. A loop dressed in new disguises. We’ve been its puppet for so long that the strings now feel like part of our own skin. We pull, but they won’t snap. We resist, but the grip tightens. The cruel jest? The more we fight, the more it toys with us. The mind knows this game well. If we resist, we lose. "It knows where we’re vulnerable, where we crumble, and which sweet lies we’re most willing to believe." It doesn’t overpower us—it seduces us. "But ...

  Ah… lost and confused, old friend? Tossed upon the waves of endless questions? The great riddle—softly whispered through time—has always waited for you to remember. Where can one find the authentic self? Perhaps the question isn’t where … But how? Most people search in all the wrong places— Chasing reflections in the eyes of others... Hunting shadows in past regrets... Racing toward imagined futures... But the Self you seek… It is neither found outwardly nor inwardly in those noisy corridors of the mind. It waits quietly... Beneath the noise of the mind. Behind the masks you’ve worn. Beneath the stories you’ve told yourself just to belong. Peel them away, old friend— The layers of conditioning... The scripts passed down to you by family, culture, glowing screens, and the passage of time. "What remains is stillness." "What remains is pure." Untouched by the world. You won’t find it in the past—that’s just echoes. You won’t find it in the future—that’s just imaginat...

Listen closely, old friend—life isn’t just something that happens to you... No, life is something you create. Something you shape. Something you craft—consciously and intentionally. Every day, with every thought, every choice, and every heartbeat, you are painting, composing, and cooking the grand masterpiece called your life. But how do you craft it consciously? How do you stop drifting and start deliberately sailing toward the life you genuinely wish to live? You need a compass—a reliable guide. That compass is built on three powerful principles: intention, attention, and attitude. These are the core drivers of conscious living. Let’s explore them. 1. Intention— The Direction of Your Compass. Your intention is your North Star. It’s the grand vision, the destination you’ve chosen on the map. Think of yourself as an artist standing before a blank canvas. What do you wish to paint? A sunrise? A revolution? A quiet garden? Or imagine you’re preparing a meal—what dish are you setting out...

Ah, feeling lost and confused, old friend? Tossed upon the waves of endless questions? The great riddle—softly whispered through time—has always waited for you to remember. Where can one find the authentic self? Perhaps the real question is not where… but how. Most search in all the wrong places— Chasing reflections in the eyes of others, Hunting shadows of the past, Racing toward imagined futures. But the Self you seek… The true Self… It is not found outside or inside the noisy corridors of the mind. It dwells beneath the clamor—beneath the parade of thoughts, identities, and expectations. It waits quietly behind the masks you’ve worn. The faces you’ve stitched together to fit in, The stories you’ve told yourself just to belong. Peel them away— The layers of conditioning, The borrowed scripts from family, culture, glowing screens, and the passage of time itself. And what remains, old friend? A quiet presence. A pause of stillness. Pure. Untouched by the world. This is your original fa...

Greetings, dear friend. Once upon a time—if time ever truly existed—two monks, Brother Lee and Brother Chu, set out on a quiet journey through the calm countryside. Their path led not only to a distant temple but also inward, toward a deeper understanding of the world, of each other, and of themselves. Their footsteps moved in sync with the earth, each step a quiet meditation. In their peaceful companionship, wisdom revealed itself—not through words, but through presence. Along the way, they encountered a distressed young woman by a raging river. “I need to cross,” she said, trembling. Brother Lee, moved by compassion, offered to carry her. Despite their monastic vow to avoid contact with women, he gently lifted her and carried her safely across. Brother Chu, disturbed by this, remained silent until they returned to the monastery. “Brother Lee,” he said, “you broke our vow. How could you do that?” Brother Lee smiled softly. “I carried her across the river, but I left her there. Yo...

Welcome, friends. Consider this: Letting go is not a battle. It is not a struggle. It is a quiet art—a gentle surrender into the river of awareness. Understand that... deep within the vast chambers of the subconscious, there lies a hidden storehouse— Not a vault of gold, but something far more potent. It holds memories… ancient echoes… emotions long buried, yet never truly freed. They linger there, quietly waiting… patient, unresolved, Stirring, breathing, and whispering their presence into the fabric of your outer world. And then, life— A moment, a word, or a glance— Sparks them awake. A trigger. Suddenly, you feel it rise… a ripple… A wave of fear…anxiety…abandonment…lack. The old stories resurface. “They don’t support me.” “I’m not enough.” “I stand alone.” But here, old friend, is the moment of power. Do not run. Do not shove it back into the cellar. Pause. Breathe. Witness it. Let the feeling arise in full without dressing it in more stories. Notice its texture, its flavor. Where ...

Hey, old friend… When will you get tired of this endless game? This game of the mind, this game of opposites—chasing… fleeing… spinning… The merry-go-round keeps turning. Different day. Same ride. Different costumes. Different masks. But the game? It never really changes… does it? You keep hoping this time it’ll feel different. Hoping this time you’ll finally arrive. But here’s the quiet truth: You already are where you need to be. Consider this, my friend… The peace you seek? The contentment you chase? It was never out there. It’s here. Now. Always. Living quietly beneath the noise of the mind. It waits patiently and unchanged in the space between grasping and aversion. It dwells between the rise and fall of each breath. In the silence... In the stillness... Within you... Notice— When things go your way, you rise. You feel light, happy, and victorious. But what happens when life strays from your plan? You fall. You feel crushed. Angry...Confused. And so, the pendulum swings again. Up…...

  Welcome, dear friend, consider this. When the applause fades… When the spotlight dims… When the game ends… what remains? The grand stage. The roaring crowds. The shining lights. The court. The field. The ring. These are the arenas where names are made… Where egos rise… and eventually fade. Where the world watches… but only for a while.  But when it’s all gone… what truly remains? But listen closely, old friend… Applause is a fleeting guest. Fame?  A shadow that vanishes when the sun sets. Sure, you may be celebrated in the world of appearances. They may cheer your name. They may even write it in lights. But when the lights dim… When the crowd disappears… When the seats grow cold… What remains? The shine? It fades. The trophies? They gather dust. The ego? It collapses when  the curtain falls… No one shows up… No one is watching… No one is feeding it… When the story ends… It won’t matter how loud they cheered. It won’t matter how big your stage was. What truly matter...

  Hey, old friend… Stop painting your life with borrowed brushes. The colors were passed down to you by family, friends, and the media. They were never truly yours. Second-hand hues, passed down and ingrained. A palette not of your choosing. But here’s the truth, old friend: You don’t have to keep them. You came here to craft your own masterpiece. Your own design. Your unmistakable imprint on this spinning world. So I ask you… What do you truly want? Not what they told you to want. Not the shiny promises you’ve been conditioned to chase. But what ignites your passion from within? What sings in your bones and sparks fire in your soul? Hold that vision. See it. Feel it. Own it—feel it as if it were already yours. Stamp your vision boldly on the canvas of your life. Seal it with gratitude—just like a signed letter—using a return address so the universe knows precisely where to deliver it. Paint consciously.  Paint deliberately.  Paint it with pure and sacred intention. Visit...

Take heed, old friend. When your soul feels heavy, When dark clouds gather—within and without— When joy slips quietly into sadness, And gloom stretches its long, aching shadow. When you find yourself adrift in despair, Unsure of the way back to yourself. Pause, breathe, and consider this. These are not merely moods. They are thresholds. Sacred crossings. Moments of vulnerability that become invitations— Openings through which buried wounds rise and  Old pain flickers. Unseen patterns unravel. And yes,  at such moments, Even darker energies may circle and enter in— Not because you are weak, But because of your light, Just for a moment, it has dimmed. Like a flickering flame draws the winter chill, A weary soul becomes a beacon— Calling forth the demons of doubt, despair, distortion, and self-hate. But here’s the secret, old friend: The darkness is not your enemy. It is the test. The veil. The absence of love. The forgetting of light. And yet—even in its shadow— It teaches. It p...

Welcome, dear friend… This moment is yours. A sacred pause… A chance to breathe… to soften… to simply be. Find a quiet space where the world can wait. Settle into comfort, cross-legged on a cushion or seated with ease in a chair. Let your spine rise effortlessly… like a noble mountain. Chin slightly lowered, crown of the head floating gently upward… Feel the back of your neck lengthen—graceful, poised, at peace. Now, bring awareness to your dominant hand. Make a gentle fist. Squeeze… tighter… hold for a slow count of six… And now—release. Let go. Feel a warm wave rising from within… A melting ease… unfolding softly. Let this sensation expand, like golden sunlight through your body and mind.  Soothing, caressing, touching every hidden corner. Let us begin with the breath. Inhale gently through the nose… to the count of four… Hold for four… Exhale slowly through the mouth… to the count of six… And again… Inhaling… 2… 3… 4… Holding… 2… 3… 4… Exhaling… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… Let this rhythm ca...

  Here you stand, old traveler—planted, yet at home, upon this spinning rock called Earth.  You've been shrouded in a fog of forgetfulness, with your true identity and mission obscured. This feels like a betrayal and cuts deep...indeed!  Let Your Fury Be the Torch Don’t stifle that fire. The anger coursing through your veins is sacred fuel. It shatters the trance of our daily routine—a living dream in which we drift, eyes closed, unawakened. As spiritual guides agree, channeling anger intentionally is a powerful catalyst for growth if you allow it to ignite rather than consume you. Reclaim the Pure Self Before the amnesia, you were whole—an unfiltered spark of cosmic essence. This is your true power. Let your rising anger be the campfire that warms and recalls the forgotten you—not merely memory—but transformation.  As Eckhart Tolle teaches, there’s a place "between the thinker and the thought" where real reunion happens.   Embrace the Soul Contract Maybe—just m...

Welcome, friends… Let me ask you something quietly profound: Can you really trust your thoughts? They swirl. They sing. They shout, whisper, warn, and seduce. But are they truly yours? Or echoes—of parents, friends, teachers, strangers, or screens? We follow them like maps. As if they know the way. But thoughts shift like sand in the wind. They rise, fall, and vanish. Are they light—or just mirrors? Reflecting borrowed beliefs, Are they worn like hand-me-downs? Pause...Breathe... Who told you the sky is blue? Was it your eyes… or someone else’s voice? And if even the sky was a story… What else have you accepted without question? You once looked at the world with wonder. Before names. Before roles. Before, thought told you who to be. Now ask again: Can you trust what flickers with fear? Bends to opinion? Disappears in silence? No... That’s not truth. That’s not you. For beneath it all— There is stillness. A watcher A presence. Unmoving. Unchanging. Real. That… is you. So be still. And r...

Welcome, traveler on the lower path. Imagine, for a moment, a vast cosmic highway stretching through the stars—a winding road we all navigate in this world of form, time, and contrast.  Here, in this third-dimensional realm, the road is marked with signs, white lines, and flashing lights. These are not meant to limit you but to guide your movement—like a dance of harmony between beings in motion. On this Earthly highway, we are taught to stay between the lines. To stop at red lights. To yield when necessary. These rules—call them guidelines—are not punishments but gentle tools for coexistence.  They keep the great flow of life from descending into chaos. They allow billions of travelers to move forward without crashing into one another’s paths. And beyond the road? There are deeper codes—not written on signs or spoken in courts—but etched into the very fabric of the universe.  These are Nature’s Laws. Universal truths. Immutable, invisible, and impartial. They do not judg...

Welcome, friend. Are we just sleepwalking through life? Same routines… same rules… The same tired “shoulds” and worn-out “shouldn’ts.” But what if this moment— Right now, was your last breath today? Where’s the spark? Where’s the wonder? Where’s the joy of simply being alive? It’s not out there. It’s here— In your breath, your steps, In the stillness between thoughts... In the silence that holds it all. To truly live, we must wake up, and stay awake. Not chained by doubt… Not pulled under by fear or worry. But rooted in presence. Alive in whatever we’re doing. Let your awareness be the flame. Let every moment become your meditation. Not someday… But now. Because this isn’t practice. It’s not a dress rehearsal. This… is life. Visit  nycfitliving.com  to begin your journey toward a deeper understanding and to cultivate genuine happiness and well-being through fitness, mindfulness, and stress management.