The Day Everything Changed

The Day Everything Changed

Many moons ago, the sun scorched the fairground pavement, and the air shimmered with midsummer promise. I was 34, still tender from a long, brutal descent through the dark night of my soul. I had lost pieces of myself in those years—almost everything, it seemed. But that day… it marked the beginning of a climb. A flicker of light. The first time in a long while I felt the hush of hope whisper into my bones.

I wandered toward the wellness booth—no destination in mind. A nurse offered to check my blood pressure. I shrugged. Why not?

It was high. Too high.

That reading stunned me. It was more than numbers—it was truth laid bare. My body, a sacred vessel I had numbed and neglected, was speaking. Screaming, even. I had cystic fibroid tumors. My cycles were erratic. My doctor had told me I was infertile. I drank too much, numbed too often, ate for comfort but found none. I was exhausted beyond language. That moment lit a match in my spirit that still burns to this day.

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The Search for Truth

Back then, the internet felt like an unfiltered river of wisdom—raw, unregulated, full of possibility. It led me to a modest website on fruit fasting, written by someone real. Someone who had walked a path of healing. Their words cracked me open. I dove into a 90-day fruit fast with a fierce, unrelenting devotion. It wasn’t gentle, but it was sacred. I saw for myself what I had only heard in whispers: food is medicine. My body began to unravel and rebuild. The tumors softened. My skin glowed. My heart started to believe again.

That same year, I rode my first 60-mile bike tour—TOSRV—through Portsmouth’s hills and heat. I wasn’t just healing. I was becoming.

Documentaries like The Beautiful Truth, Earthlings, and Cowspiracy showed me what my soul already knew. Books like Skinny Bitch struck a chord of clarity. And something as simple as a creamy sip of soy milk cracked the spell I’d been under. I crossed a threshold that year—and I never went back.

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Healing Isn’t a Pill

True healing is not found in prescriptions or quick fixes. It’s not a one-size-fits-all plan. It’s presence. It’s awareness. It’s radical honesty with the self.

Ayurveda taught me the language of my own body—of the doshas, of elemental rhythm. I discovered my Vata-Pitta nature and learned to ground, to warm, to nourish—not punish. I shifted from control to connection.

And perhaps most beautifully, I reclaimed joy in eating. Food no longer needed to be fought. It became prayer. A love offering. My kitchen transformed into a temple, where every simmer and slice was a blessing.

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Yoga as Devotion

I’ll never forget my first yoga class in Huntington. As I lay in savasana, tears slipped silently into my ears. A woman beside me reached out, slid her hand into mine. She didn’t know me, but somehow… she knew.

That single gesture was the most honest intimacy I had ever felt. It healed something I didn’t have words for. And it told me I was no longer alone.

Yoga became more than movement. It became my devotion, my pulse, my steady breath through every storm. It cracked open my chest and taught me how to feel, to listen, to live.

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The Inner Work

But the true work—the real work—was emotional.

I had to sift through years of grief and inherited pain. I had to examine the people-pleasing masks, the martyrdom, the desire to be everything for everyone except myself. I had to let go of control. I had to feel it all.

And then—grace. I rose again, layer by layer, softer and stronger than before.

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Faith on a Cellular Level

Faith is not memorized. It is not preached. It is embodied.

Faith is the trembling step forward when you cannot see the path. It is a quiet knowing that you are held, even in your unraveling.

I released the energies that drained me. I stopped betraying my body and my spirit. I let the sacred guide me.

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My Body, My Ally

I watched my tumors dissolve. Slowly. Day by day. Not from one miracle moment, but from showing up. With plants. With fasting. With trust. With sweat. With sacred discipline. With prayer whispered into tea steam and woven into my sleep.

I no longer feared my body—I loved her.

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Practices That Anchored Me

• 90-day fruit fast: the awakening

• Intermittent fasting: the reset

• Whole, vibrant food: the joy

• Very low to no sugar

• Herbal teas over caffeine

• Juicing & smoothies: medicine bowls

• Plant-based proteins

• Ayurvedic seasonal rhythm

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How to Begin

• Choose a date. Honor it.

• Clean your kitchen. Make it holy.

• Drink water like it’s sacred.

• Keep food simple and infused with joy.

• Move gently.

• Journal your process.

• Pray.

• Dream.

• Repeat.

• Ritual is a form of remembrance.

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This Is a Love Story

This path is not about perfection. It’s about coming home. Again and again.

To presence.

To truth.

To joy.

Every plate is a prayer. Every breath is a thread in the tapestry. Every practice is poetry.

Your life is your art. Your body, your altar.

And joy—the radiant, golden kind—is your birthright.

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Tina Chabot

e-RYT 500

Ayurvedic Health Counselor

Tina Chabot School of Yoga

Please consult your physician before making changes to your wellness regimen. Healing asks for wisdom, reverence, and care.