Coconut oil is my best friend - I put it all over my body every

"Coconut oil is my best friend—I put it all over my body every night. And in the morning, I wash it off so I’m not all greasy." Thus speaks Alexis Ren, in words that on the surface seem playful and light, but in truth conceal a ritual as old as humanity: the anointing of the body as a sacred act. What she calls her “best friend” is more than a substance for the skin—it is a symbol of care, of devotion to the vessel that carries her spirit. For the ancients, to tend to the body was not vanity, but reverence; and in her nightly use of coconut oil, Ren continues that tradition, transforming an ordinary act into one of self-respect and preservation.

The nightly anointing she describes is a ritual of renewal. Each evening, when the day’s labors and wounds are done, she coats herself in this oil, allowing it to seep into her skin as balm and protection. Then, with the rising of the sun, she washes it away, stepping into the new day cleansed and light, no longer burdened by the heaviness of the past night. This cycle reflects a profound truth: that care for the self is not a single act, but a rhythm, a constant returning. The body, like the soul, must be both nourished and purified if it is to endure.

The use of oil for the body carries deep roots in history. The Greeks spoke of athletes anointing themselves with olive oil before games, both to protect the skin and to honor the flesh that would strive for victory. In India, the practice of abhyanga, the daily self-massage with oils, has been prescribed for centuries in the Ayurvedic tradition, believed to restore balance and promote long life. Even the kings and priests of Egypt, who preserved their beauty with ointments and perfumes, saw oil not as mere adornment, but as a bridge between the mortal and the divine. In this way, Alexis Ren’s nightly embrace of coconut oil echoes practices stretching back to empires long past.

Consider the story of Cleopatra, who was famed not only for her political cunning but also for her legendary beauty rituals. She bathed in milk, perfumed her skin with oils, and adorned herself with unguents drawn from the earth. Though she ruled nations, she knew that to tend her body was to tend her power, for the body is both shield and instrument of the spirit. So too does Ren remind us, in her simple confession, that care for the body is not weakness but wisdom—an acknowledgment that strength and beauty are sustained only by devotion.

The wisdom hidden in this quote lies also in the balance it reveals. For she does not cling to the oil endlessly, but washes it away in the morning, lest it weigh upon her or make her unfit for the day’s labors. Here is a lesson for all: what nourishes us in one moment must sometimes be released in another. To cling to what was meant to be temporary is to transform a gift into a burden. This rhythm of applying and washing away is the very rhythm of life—take in what sustains you, but let go when the time comes.

The lesson for us is clear: tend to yourself with the same reverence you would give to a sacred temple. Do not neglect the vessel of your spirit, for without it, your mind and soul cannot fully shine. But also remember the balance—nourish, then release; hold, then let go. Care is not indulgence, but discipline. When practiced daily, it becomes a shield against the decay of time, a source of confidence, and a reminder of one’s worth.

Practical action must follow. Each evening, find a ritual of renewal—perhaps the use of oil, perhaps meditation, perhaps writing the day’s thoughts away. Let it be your nourishment. And each morning, cleanse yourself, shake off the weight of yesterday, and rise ready for the new. In this way, you will live not as one who drifts through days, but as one who continually renews, continually strengthens, continually honors themselves.

Thus Alexis Ren, in her playful words, speaks a truth of the ancients: that the one who daily tends to the self is the one who endures with grace. Coconut oil, in her telling, becomes more than a beauty secret—it becomes a symbol of care, of balance, and of the eternal cycle of renewal. And so we too must learn: honor your vessel, cleanse your spirit, and live each day both nourished and free.