The Art of the Slow Rise: My Intentional Morning Routine for October
By Rosa — Good food is self-care. Let me feed you properly. ·
Finding My Rhythm in the October Chill
There is something about October in San Antonio that just hits different. The air finally loses that oppressive, heavy heat we’ve been battling since May, and there’s a crispness that makes you want to pull a cardigan tight around your shoulders. As someone who spent my twenties sprinting through dinner rushes and dodging grease burns on the line, I used to think a “morning routine” was just a double shot of espresso and whatever I could scarf down over a prep sink.
But turning 31 has changed my perspective. My abuela always said, “Rosa, if you don’t feed your spirit first, you’ll have nothing left to give the pan.” She was right. Over the last few years, I’ve traded the chaos for a rhythm that feels like a warm embrace. My mornings are no longer about efficiency; they are about intentionality. Whether it’s the quiet glow of the kitchen light before the sun fully crests or the way Churro, my fat orange cat, insists on supervising my coffee pour, these hours are my secret weapon.
The First Ritual: Hydration and Heat
I don’t touch my phone for the first thirty minutes. I know, I know—in our world, that feels like a radical act of rebellion. But if I start my day by scrolling through other people’s highlight reels, I’m already putting myself on the defensive.
Instead, I start with water. I keep a glass on my nightstand, and I drink it before my feet hit the floor. After that, I head straight to the kitchen. This is my sacred time. I don’t jump into complex cooking; I just focus on the sensory experience of a hot beverage. In October, I’m leaning heavily into a spiced café de olla. The scent of cinnamon sticks and piloncillo simmering on the stove does more for my mental health than any app ever could. It’s a sensory signal to my brain that the day has begun on my terms, not the world’s.
Moving with Intention
Once the caffeine is doing its thing, I don’t immediately run to the laptop to check emails. My work as a recipe developer is creative, and creativity needs space to breathe. I try to move my body for fifteen minutes. This isn’t a high-intensity workout; it’s usually just some light stretching or a walk around the block while the neighborhood is still waking up.
I’ve found that if I don’t move, the “restaurant brain” I developed in my twenties—that frantic, go-go-go energy—takes over. Stretching reminds me that I inhabit a body, not just a set of hands that chops onions. I focus on my breath, the way the cool October air feels on my skin, and the quiet. If Churro is feeling particularly cooperative, he’ll weave through my legs, adding a little extra weight to my movements. It’s my version of mindfulness.
Feeding the Soul (and the Belly)
Of course, we have to talk about breakfast. If you’ve been following me for a while, you know my rule: good food is self-care. I never skip this meal. In the fall, I love something that feels like a hug. It might be a simple bowl of warm oats topped with toasted pecans and a swirl of maple syrup, or if I’m feeling like a savory start, a quick soft-scrambled egg with a spoonful of leftover salsa verde from the night before.
Cooking for myself—even if it’s just for five minutes—is a way of saying, “I am worthy of nourishment.” It sounds simple, but it’s a practice that keeps me grounded. When I feed myself well, I have the capacity to feed others with joy later in the day. It’s the cycle of care that I learned from my abuela. She didn’t cook out of obligation; she cooked out of love, and I try to bring that same energy to my own bowl of breakfast.
Transitioning into the Work Day
By 9:00 AM, I’m ready. My “office” is usually my kitchen counter, but because I’ve spent the last two hours being intentional, I don’t feel like I’m playing catch-up. I take a moment to look at my to-do list—usually a mix of recipe testing, freelance writing, and managing my partnership with my partner—and I pick one thing I want to accomplish that will make me feel proud of my day.
Building a morning routine isn't about being perfect. Some days, Churro knocks over a plant, or I wake up feeling sluggish and just want to stay under the covers with a podcast. And that’s okay. The point of these rituals is that they are there for you when you need them, not that they are a box to be checked.
Your Turn to Slow Down
I want you to try this: tomorrow morning, pick just one thing from my list—whether it’s the glass of water, the no-phone rule, or making yourself a breakfast that actually tastes like love—and commit to it. Notice how it shifts the energy of your entire afternoon.
How do you protect your peace in the mornings? Do you have a ritual that keeps you grounded, or are you looking to start one? Slide into my comments or shoot me a message—I’d love to hear how you’re nurturing yourself this October. Let’s feed our spirits together.