Sip Happens

Dear reader, 

Welcome back to Resilient Roads Newsletter 🌿 where we stay curious, question the norm, and trust the body over the loudest voice in the room. Today's story starts on a yoga mat, but it's really about something every single one of us needs to hear.

Have you ever followed a rule simply because someone told you that was “the rule?”

Years ago, I took my first Bikram yoga class. If you've ever been to one, you know the room feels like a sauna. Sweat poured off me from the moment class started.

By the time we got to Camel Pose, my body had enough. I eased out for a moment, grabbed my water bottle, and took a small sip.

The teacher called me out.

I remember thinking, Really, come on?

Fast forward to last weekend.

I was hired to teach a private birthday yoga class at a beautiful lake house here in North Carolina. It was around 90 degrees, hot, humid, and we were practicing outside beside the pool in full sun. Sweat ran into my eyes. Every single one of us felt the heat.

And only one person practiced yoga.

Between flows, I told them to take a sip of water before we got into the other half.

The birthday girl happened to be a yoga teacher. Under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear, she said to her friend,

"You're not supposed to drink water."

Just like that, I was right back in that Bikram class years ago. Only this time, I was the teacher.

Here's the thing…

I understand where that idea came from. Some styles of yoga encourage waiting until class ends before drinking water. That's their philosophy.

This wasn't a climate controlled yoga studio. This was a North Carolina summer. Outside. Ninety degrees. Humidity thick enough to swim through. A group of women practicing in direct sun after celebrating the night before.

Common sense wins. Every single time.

That moment reminded me of something I see every day with diverticulitis.

Someone in a Facebook group says, "Never eat kale." Someone else says, "Meat fixes everything." Another person says, "You should be eating only Low Fodmap foods." A doctor gives one recommendation. An influencer gives another.

Before long, people stop listening to the one voice that has been speaking to them all along.

Their own body.

I love education. I love certifications. I have plenty of them myself.

Education gives us principles. Experience gives us wisdom. Common sense helps us apply both.

Your body lives in the real world, not inside a rule book.

That's exactly why I created the Four Stages of Eating for Diverticulitis. They were never meant to become another list of rigid rules or a meal plan. They're a framework. A guide. A way to help you recognize your body's patterns so you can make confident decisions instead of guessing or following whatever the loudest person on the internet says that day.

Healing asks for awareness. Healing asks for curiosity. Healing asks you to pay attention.

Sometimes that means staying on Stage 2 another day. Sometimes it means moving forward. Sometimes it means resting. Sometimes it means taking a walk.

Sometimes it simply means taking a sip of water while you're standing in the North Carolina heat.

Life has plenty of rules. Wisdom comes from knowing when your body is asking for something different.

That's a lesson I learned on a yoga mat years ago. And it's one I carry into every class I teach and every person I help inside Diverticulitis Rescue.

If you're learning to trust your body after diverticulitis and you'd love guidance that blends holistic practices, experience, and common sense, I'd love to welcome you inside 👉 Diverticulitis Rescue Skool.

Until next time, stay grounded, stay curious, and keep leaning into what truly supports you.

Namaste,
Robin 🫶🏻

P.S. It's been a hot minute since my last newsletter 🫠 life, business, and about a hundred plates spinning. If this kind of raw, real-talk share is your thing, hit reply and let me know, it'll help me decide how often to bring Resilient Roads back to your inbox.