Powerhouse

Some words follow you quietly before you realize they are shaping your life.

The first time I heard powerhouse, I was a sophomore at Costa Mesa High School, sitting in AP Biology. The mitochondria—the powerhouse of the cell. The structure responsible for converting nourishment into usable energy. Essential for life, yet invisible to the naked eye. Without it, nothing functions. And yet, it’s rarely acknowledged.

Discovered in the late 19th century, mitochondria were once thought to be insignificant cellular granules. It wasn’t until decades later that scientists understood their true role: energy production, metabolism, survival. The center from which life sustains itself.

I had no idea that word would return to me years later—this time not in a textbook, but in my body.

During my classical Pilates training with Julie Erickson, I heard it again. The powerhouse. A term widely attributed to Romana Kryzanowska—though whether Joseph Pilates himself used the word matters less than the concept he lived by. Movement begins at the center. Strength radiates outward. The body functions as a connected chain, not isolated parts.

The parallels weren’t lost on me.

That day in biology class, I couldn’t have imagined how often this word would resurface in my life.

Around the time I finished my Pilates training and graduated college, I found myself torn between two paths: Pilates or medicine. I had completed the prerequisites. I had the scientific foundation. Medical school was a real and reasonable option. At the same time, Pilates had ignited something deeper—something embodied, purposeful, alive. I had experienced the method in its purest form at Endurance Pilates, and it changed me.

The decision was not simple. It was shaped by immigrant expectations, by the pressure to achieve financial stability I did not grow up with, by practicality. Classical Pilates—especially authentic training—was (and still is) an expensive pursuit. I was incredibly fortunate to receive Julie Erickson’s mentorship through a pathway that made the work accessible to me when it otherwise would not have been.

I chose medicine.

Years later, as a Certified Anesthesiologist Assistant, I have no regrets. I respect the craft deeply. I’ve witnessed its power firsthand—especially during a spine surgery mission trip to Honduras, where medicine truly served humanity at its best.

But with time came clarity.

Medicine is a science. Healthcare, however, is a business—one that profits from illness. That paradox has grown louder for me. While surgery and anesthesia are often lifesaving and absolutely necessary, they are ultimately reactive responses to breakdown.

At this stage of my life, I’m drawn toward something else: true health. Proactive health. The kind Joseph Pilates envisioned—one built through daily, disciplined movement, breath, and awareness. Contrology as prevention, not intervention.

I don’t reject medicine. I don’t reject surgery. I honor them.

But I choose the blend.

Just as the mitochondria quietly power the cell, the powerhouse quietly powers the body. Strong, intelligent movement from the center outward. This is where healing begins—not after something breaks, but before.

And perhaps that’s why this word keeps finding me.

Because the powerhouse—whether in a cell or in a human being—has always been where life truly starts.