I finally updated this site with current photos, as well as tightened up various areas and I also threw a spotlight on my personal training studio I now co-own and operate: Body Temple LA. When I first created this site 5 years ago I was an independent trainer working out of an amazing CrossFit gym. Running my own ship is a much more rewarding experience for me though, and I’m much happier in my own space, as are my clients. Big shout out to LA photographer Carlos Moscat, who shot my site both times, and is basically my go to fitness guy. The photos speak for themselves. Also Justing Harding Hair for keeping my hair on point the entire shoot. The new site is more reflective of who I am as a man and trainer. Thanks for visiting!
To Stardust We Return
This was something I wrote last year when I traveled to South Africa, Cape Town, and fell in love with a beautiful boy. After my second trip to Cape Town, I wrote this for his birthday. He recently passed away over New Years 2020, as did another friend of mine 3 days prior. I also just received news that a family member is probably nearing the end of her life. Life is testing me, and all of us right now. To go from never experiencing death, to losing 3 in a month, is taking a toll on my otherwise steadfast demeanor. Hold your loved ones close, and tell them you love them at every opportunity.
To Hofni:
You should know, I lied when I told you I was nervous.
It’s hard to know for sure, but then maybe I’ve always known. The exact moment though, is more difficult to locate. It’s there, somewhere, between this time and some space, beyond.
Maybe it was the moment I first saw you, when the universe sent me a message.
It came in a flower, encrypted in fire
I smelled it with my mind, and began to search for something.
Maybe it was as the seconds turned to hours, when I couldn’t get enough.
I got lost in you, two lost boys dreaming an endless night. Ecstatic emotions drove right through me, pointy like fingernails gently running across my skin.
Maybe it was the fusion of our beings, when we melted and joined together.
A different plane of existence for every feeling I had, all at once, rushing in on me. They crushed me, but you were there.
Maybe it’s in every single one of your smiles, when the universe sent me a message.
It came in the fire, drifted between time, and only the safest of spaces, and beyond.
Happiest of birthdays Hofni 💙
#africa #southafrica #capetown #travel
<AYAHUASCA ARCHIVES #92>
It’s tough, but I knew it would be.
The first cup is a trance, a dream where my eyes flutter and my head slowly tilts from side to side. I’m anxious and she can tell. Laying back, I let the evening reverie take me slowly down into my mat.
The second cup is thoughts and thoughtlessness. My arms twist and I roll onto my side, needing to rub my face against something soft.
Breathe, I’m reminded. Open up the airways.
Intensity follows and I lightly claw at my throat, desperate for something all-consumingly masculine. I crave it, I need it. It’s carnal, impure, something I’ve shamed myself into deathlessness for wanting. Envelop me. Consume me, take me. I can’t be ashamed anymore. I need to be a better human, and part of that means becoming more honest with myself.
Patterns begin taking shape, a spectrum of neon ciphers in the blackness of midnight, not unlike a computer switchboard, pulsing, dancing. Reminding me of her beauty. In the middle of my struggle I laugh. This is very strong, I say a little louder than a whisper. Everything is a pattern, including my current openness. I can almost reach inside and grab it, rearrange it, quantify it.
My stomach pain is hot, has a color, and makes a sound as I deliver it into the night.
The third cup is fear. “The cup of the soul.” Even with my eyes open, against the unilluminated floor, I can clearly see my fingers and the systems rewriting themselves across my flesh. Numbers and symbols I do not recognize dance across every surface my eyes fall upon, all while thoughts of death, lies of this world, and human deceit dig their way into my heart and kidnap any hope I have remaining for our future.
All I can do is breathe, and hope this will pass. It does, but it’s something I’ve sat on and processed for the past two days. Those thoughts didn’t come from her, they came from me. Clever girl. I claim I’m not afraid, but I am. Of unreliable people, who put themselves first, who lie. Of myself, of writing. Of trusting. What’s the point?
Trust yourself, she says. 90 Ayahuasca ceremonies changes a man, and mother never lies.
#ayahuasca
<AYAHUASCA ARCHIVES #93>
The medicine goes down and my stomach turns hot. Within 30 seconds I start to worry. (why?)
In the bathroom the floor begins to shift and sway as my first purge leaves me.
Back at my bed, my breathing intensifies, my moans get louder, my grip on reality begins to loosen. I claw at my face, my shirt, rolling side to side. I twist and I grab at the fleece bedding. Too much, I think, please, stop. (why?)
Then, wait, no. Thank you, Mother. But that’s an afterthought. I’m scared, or I try to pretend I am. She’s not falling for it. I open my eyes and the room explodes into multiple versions of itself, each jumping out of the other like a kaleidoscopic Russian doll. The air around me cubes itself into innumerable fractals and my eyes roll back into my head.
My breath, deep and deliberate. The only thing grounding me.
Mother, please, enough. (why?)
A maelstrom of masculine energy begins to swirl around the men in the room. It’s black, dark, full of anger. The music intensifies - an orgy of funhouse meets deep house fills the air. She’s out of her mind, and it’s glorious.
My hands begin to feel sick. My toes, my legs, my arms. Within 3 seconds it moves to my stomach and I vomit into my bucket. It’s caught in my throat. I sit up, hacking, coughing. A low guttural growl takes 20 seconds, desperate to escape, suffocating me. Tears and saliva fall away as I heave again and again into the bucket. This is awful, I think. I vomit again.
Then, a revelation. No, it’s not awful. I’m okay. The vomit stops and I feel fine. A few seconds later I slip back into self-pity, and I vomit again. Stop it, get out of your ego. I’m choosing this. I hold that thought, and within seconds everything fades away. I sit and I smile and begin to laugh like a child.
How many of you play the victim without realizing? Or maybe you do. My thoughts directly affected my physical self in this (and every) situation, and it was beautiful to see. In this, I created my own self-hell, and then escaped it, with but a thought.
The world is falling away around us.
Okay, and? What are we going to do about it?
#ayahuasca
<BIRTHDAY #35 • MORE THAN 100 WORDS>
I don’t think I have a single friend who would fly out here to see me for my birthday. I definitely don’t have any who would throw me a party. Only one person asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I had just met him. That makes me sad. A by-product of being told “you don’t matter” all my life by those I should have mattered to the most - I believed it until my 30s, and believed I never deserved anything more. I’ve gone through all the emotions - something is wrong with me, I can’t make friends who care about me like that, I’m unattractive or I’m not personable (I can understand this last point. I’ve never been very personable until the last few years once I started working through my trauma). Now I have the attitude that birthdays are just another day, and I find it silly when people make big deals about their birthdays or celebrate them for entire weeks or months. The ego, I don’t understand… What I wouldn’t give to have someone celebrate it with me for just one day. Hell, an afternoon.
Birthdays and receiving gifts are an alien concept, never receiving any myself growing up. Looking back now, however, it appears I’ve been granted many remarkable gifts along the way to manhood. Most of these were self-made or earned through pain and tears, but they’re gifts nonetheless. I’m healthy. I have incredible people in my life. I know what I’m about. I’ve become a great communicator. I know what I want for myself. In a partner. Sexually. I’m pursuing my passion. I converse with gods and goddesses. I visit other realms. Such gifts that, across my many incarnations on several different worlds, I’ve come to love this one the most.
I’m still looking for my tribe, and I’m confident I’ll find it soon. 35, this whole month actually, has already been rocking my world in the best ways, so I’m not complaining. As you get older you start to examine patterns in your life and why they occur, so I’m feeling very self-aware this morning. I’m very happy with the man I’ve become at this age, and who can honestly say that about themselves? I’ll take that over a silly present any day.
.
#birthday
<AYAHUASCA ARCHIVES #95>
I’m face down and I’m screaming.
My fists ball up, they clench and release, they grab onto the bed and tear, rip, desperate to destroy something that doesn’t deserve it. I’m punching the soft mattress, wishing it was the source of my pain. My legs thrash and my knees bend up toward my chest over and over.
My throat is caught, my airways are blocked and the rage is growing. The anger is unreal, I’ve never felt this before. I start crying through my screams, my body convulsing, my back arching and rounding as my muscles tense and collapse on themselves. My screams are throaty, guttural, aggressive. I’m sobbing, and the screams don’t stop. For minutes upon minutes I feel it all leave me little by little, each wail into the night carrying another demon away.
My rage is a long time coming. For months, we’ve all dealt internally with what’s happening. We talk about it with each other, sure, but few of us actually release any of it in healthy ways. The media, the lies, the election, the hypocrisy, the fucking “pandemic,” my interpersonal relationships. All of it has been taking a toll.
I’m a strong person. I pride myself on my resolute strength in the face of pain and adversity. Not a lot moves me or phases me irrationally. But god dammit I’m also an intensely, deeply emotional, sensitive, feeling person, and I feel other people’s thoughts and emotions in such a way I confuse them for my own most of the time.
I’m a healer. I’m at service to others with my work and my writing. I’m a shaman with my words. I believe in humanity, and I do believe a turn in the tide is coming soon. All of these old, archaic systems will fall that limit us and control us and we will show them we are not powerless against them.
Last night I raged for all of us. I could feel the collective building in my DNA, my coding rearranging to make room for you and your pain as well as mine. I took it on because I can. I’m strong enough to carry it. To carry you. I can move that energy in what small ways I can, so that maybe you can breathe a little easier.
Today I’m brighter, I’m lighter. And the world is beautiful again 💜
#ayahuasca
Burning Man 2016
It was night when I rode out to the playa for the first time and couldn't believe my eyes. Neon, electric, as far as the eye could see.
I witnessed the wonders of da Vinci's workshop.
I sat by a bonfire miles away from everything with my best friends, and gazed up at the stars while dance parties raged on the horizon.
I played with a naked fire dancer in the dark of the desert.
I rode up to massive pyramid tombs alongside a pirate ship sailing the sands.
I found a hidden oasis in a city of 60,000 people, and simply sat there.
I climbed lighthouses, and then watched them burn to the ground in a blaze of green and white flame 3 days later.
In a single 30 minute bike ride, I witnessed 3 marriages and applauded each one as I rode by.
I stopped on the street and answered a phone call from a random person in Wyoming and lamented in his inability to make it to Burning Man.
I danced in the remote reaches of the desert with just a few friends to disco beats.
I cried at the temple, and left prayers and notes of forgiveness to be burned.
I got caught in sandstorms so strong I couldn't see two feet in front of me.
I rode down the pulsing neon, vibrating currents of the sonic runway rings at night, high as a kite.
I had great sex until the sun rose.
I dressed up in badass outfits.
We danced at sunset, and put our goggles on as the burnt-orange sandstorm rolled in. The music didn't stop, and neither did we.
I watched men hanging from ropes battle to the death in the Thunderdome.
I got caught between a giant neon scorpion and a tank.
I made snow angels in the sand.
I met Medusa's gaze, and didn't turn to stone.
I found an observatory in the desert, and through its telescopes stared up into the infinite universe in wonder.
I solved mysteries.
I watched the man burn, spinning fire twisters off into the blustery night.
I danced with a panda at Glamcocks.
I felt the warmth of a fire breathing octopus.
I fell a little bit more in love.
I was challenged in my ways of thinking.
I was challenged in how I view others.
I witnessed love and kindness everywhere I looked.
I've never felt more connected to humans.
On the clearest, warmest day, I stared across the playa at the dozens of art structures littering the landscape like hazy, distant mirages and thought - this is a dream I can't wait to come back to.
A bold new adventure
My main goal with Carlos Figueroa Fitness is to show the world that there is a very simple, straight-forward answer to a greater sense and feeling of well-being. It takes some work, some effort, and a lot of desire to be healthy and happy – but before you know it, it’s your new normal. And life is awesome.
Shortly on this page I’ll be sharing glances into my personal fitness life. I can’t wait. Check back here every couple of weeks for some pretty awesome content straight from my brain, to you.
Remember: If you can dream it, you can do it. And everyone can do it