Poem

Everybody is unique and I work with my clients to identify their root core imbalances as well as their unique requirements in terms of nutrition but there are a few principles that apply to everyone, no matter what the circumstances are:

1. Eat real food: unrefined, unprocessed, traditional and wholesome, preferably seasonal and local.

2. Bump up your rainbow coloured vegetable intake to increase the nutrients and fibre in your diet.

3. Eliminate inflammatory foods such as sugar, GMO foods and unhealthy fats such as trans fats and refined vegetable seed oils.

4. Avoid overeating and unlimited snacking and eat with awareness, chewing properly to support your digestion.

5. These principles, even though very simple and straightforward, can be very powerful in building a strong foundation for health in general and hormonal health in particular. If you focus on supporting the four areas I covered in this article and you apply these four diet principles in your life, you will start seeing a difference in the way you feel and in the symptoms that are related to your hormonal balance. If you feel you need more help, get in touch with me on my website to set up a free Nutrition Breakthrough session!

Be well.
Monique

Ours is not to reason why ours is just to sweat and sigh

I was feeling young and happy now I’m feeling old and crappy

Memories gone, where do I belong

Where are my keys what’s happened to my knees??

Bones turning chalky, time for a walky

Hormones roaring, who the hell’s that snoring

Feeling bloated, duly noted!

HRT that’s not for me, oops time again for another pee

Energy levels zero, time to call on my inner hero

Could be worse at least now I don’t have “The Curse”

I am a woman I am strong, I can handle this “Bring It On”

Look to the future it’s not time to shoot ya.

Monique Jhingon is a Functional Nutrition & Lifestyle Practitioner who offers select private coaching to expats whose health and digestion has been compromised as a result of transitioning into new environments, cultures, climates and foods. You can read more on her website and sign up for a free Nutrition Breakthrough Session here:
www.moniquejhingon.com

they say

that when death comes

the soul borne away with the air

traps itself in reflective surfaces.

is it because

humanity fades into existing

whilst refraining from

allowing their truths 

to seep into reality?

is it because 

we glimpse at living

through a depleted surface

of pretence?

or that

we allow not our capabilities

to invade our very mind-frame,

bleed into our deepest secrets

and reveal our ignorance?

why then,

do those mourning souls

hold on to the living,

straining for every fibre

that reflects blissful being,

yet being unable to pass

through that barrier of death,

into the nation of lies and secrecy –

into the waves of sanity,

away from insanity 

and far from terrifying reality?

someone once said

the difference between tragedy and terror

lies in how it is terror that exists

when humans realise 

What they are truly capable of [1] 

stories hang in this midst of a crowd,

waves of emotions 

and unfathomable existence.

in the after

is when these tangible imposters

wash away with the wishes of the fallen –

and are borne away from

the opposite land of what we call

blissful ignorance. 

[1] A quote by Joseph Brosky – a Russian-American Poet.

it’s back again.

out of the blues

it has appeared

to tear and to wear me

into one of its many mists.

I am droplets –

falling

from bright and

heavy clouds

that softly sings to me. 

take me back  

to your vacation

when you slept

and sighed

in others’ dreams.

leave me alone now,

for I have been rising

into more 

than what you made me.

but you are back again.

and now I am splattering

to your infectious rhythm

of pain and desire

to go back 

to when I was fire,

and you were nothing.

Inside the sari shop we are sitting.

Touching and talking to the vibrant stitchings

Of fabrics long -stretched – as if to the River and back,

With which my hands make contact, 

And I feel myself come alive.

Of every colour I see, the next one is better;

Canary-mint with an explosion of heather,

Black-blood with the scent of bitter-sweet paan,

Sangria-grey like an old woman’s last days –

When all that exists has been sought

And gracefully washed away.

Designs and demonstrations of Banaras’ history.

The people can be seen singing and dancing

To rhythmic melodies of their rich, old stories

Of a time when the country came to a beginning;

When my father was yet to be born,

And my mother, yet to be living.

In another moment, I live elsewhere.

Back home in the city of the faraway me,

Sitting and talking to all the distant things,

Feeling out of place in a country I was born in.

But in this shop, I am sitting.

Playing with the cousins for a long time I won’t see.

The marriage is tomorrow, the reception the day after –

And here I sit with my sister, choosing my mother’s sari.

I will travel around Varanasi, breathing in its air

While the temples and drivers surrender to their prayers.

I will search the world and seek wonderful things,

But nothing as eye -opening as what has come to define me

Here: in my mother’s city – Varanasi. 

When I approach your doors,

Greet me not with finality

Nor pressure me to sleep,

Have me not chained and begging

For you to lend me peace –

For I will come prepared,

Ready to accept your hand,

And I will treat you faithfully,

Hoping life doesn’t end with me.

When I cry myself to reality,

And say goodbye to family,

Find it in your heart

To not take me so suddenly,

Nor lend me your helping hand

When I have yet to surrender only.

When you disturb my thoughts,

The way you do so daily,

I ask for understanding

In my faithful imagining

Of yourself being so graceful,

So tender just like sleeping.

Let me fall not so suddenly,

Nor let me leave entirely empty;

Let me have the satisfaction

Of saving my gentle memory.

For even now I am hoping

You are more than my ending –

And when the time comes, 

You bring a new beginning.