The truth is, there's very little we're meant to do alone in this world.

It’s been a while now, that I moved from doing Massage into Nutrition Coaching. And I’m always amazed at the beautiful conversations and honesty and shifts that come from this work.

A couple things reappear over and over...

How easy it is to get caught up in the day to day hustle and start running on auto-pilot (survival mode almost!), rather than making intentional choices about how we care for ourselves.

AND

How often we believe that our willpower alone should carry us through.  And in reality, how exhausting that can be.  

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The truth is that there’s very little we’re meant to do alone in this world.  As human beings, we need each other.  We have a deep, core need for community, for support, to help where we can and receive a little guidance where we struggle.

There’s so much we think we need to struggle through alone.  But I’m struck on nearly a daily basis, how much more ease, solace & exponential progress occurs when we reach out.  When we have someone (or a circle of someones) we trust to listen, notice patterns, and help guide us towards the tools and (often so simple) shifts that will make real change in the areas that cause us stress.

I’m incredibly lucky to be able to hold that space for some amazing women (and a handful of men) that have the courage and commitment to build that strong, health and self-care foundation.  It becomes the basis for so much more ease, energy and ability to ENJOY every other aspect of life.

Devotion

"Good poetry begins with
the lightest touch"

- David Whyte

It feels like my reminder right now. That things can begin even though they feel so light.  Barely touched.  That the magic can be so subtle, we almost don't see it happening.

I'm learning to act in faith.  With Devotion.  I want devotion to be my pace, the rhythm I breath and move to.  

I want to feel released from the planning.  The self-inflicted pressure of plotting out countless steps ahead.  Steps that will change anyways, just through the living of it.  Just from taking that first step towards the anticipated, but ultimately unknown.

Devotion.

Devotion in small acts,

In an inhale and exhale, in a moment of stillness,

or a dedication to movement

stretching

strengthening

dancing.

Devotion in putting the devices, the distractions, down.  In asking the questions, however silly they sound out loud or seem in your head.

Devotion in small steps toward becoming visible.

Devotion to your own body.

How it's fed, nourished and cared for.

Devotion to Delight, and pleasures that make your heart take even the tiniest skip.

Devotion, even, begins with the lightest touch.

Give me Space & Time… and I will Caramelize Onions.

Let me sing you the glories of a weekend to yourself, nestled among riverside evergreens, when you are a sleep deprived mama of two.

A gift I always assumed was too much to even ask for, was reserved and packaged sweetly and generously by my husband, who held down the fort at home while I cozied up by a fireplace and remembered what it was like to follow my own natural rhythms and make decisions based purely on how I felt at the moment.

I relished the thought and imagined what it would be like in the days leading up to this weekend.  What I would occupy my time with, the things I could do with my stretches of time, the places I would take myself out to eat.  The sleeping in I would do!

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And I did.  I slept and woke lazily and at my own whims.  I took myself on walks along the river and marveled at the muted but rich palate of greens and blues and grays.  I soaked up the Christmas lights and decorations wherever I found them.

But I was surprised that I didn’t go far.  And every meal that I ate, I cooked myself in the little kitchen on my riverside cottage.

And I knew… that what I wanted, needed, more than anything was replenishment, rest and first-hand recreation.  But part of me thought that would come in the form of enjoying food others cooked.  Rambling through new streets and into new shops.  You know, vacation stuff.  Oh I anticipated lots of reading and writing and maybe even a yoga class.. but the extent to which I actually bunkered down in my little retreat house surprised me.

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When given an abundance of space and time… what I wanted to do… was cook.  Sit and eat, with the fire and nothing else.  I brought stacks of books and notebooks, because I can’t leave home without at least half a dozen options… but most of them were untouched.  I spent some time Unravelling the year (a la Susannah Conway) but then let it sit, to marinate, rather than bulldozing through the entirety of it.  I read a chapter here and there.  But then I wanted space.

I wanted to sit and get lost in the stillness around me and the flicker of flame.  I wanted to push and pull at flour and yeast and salt.  I wanted to put the heat on low, and stir and swirl onions until they were soft and caramelized.  I wanted to wash a dish (GASP!!!) and feel the warm sudsy water wash over my hands as they moved over the white, smooth surfaces.  Those things that time in the everyday doesn’t always seem to allow for.  Or that I don’t take the time for because I think my time is more valuable spent elsewhere.

It’s this realization that has been slowly trickling into my understanding… first intellectually, and now, it seems… ever so slowly into my experience.  That things are achieved… growth, evolution, realization, alchemy, beauty… when you let something simmer for a while.  When you leave it alone, and let the crackling of it, or the smell of it lure you back, reminding you to give it a little attention.

I think sometimes the things we need most, are the things we so adamantly insist are a waste of time… an unnecessary luxury… superfluous.

I think this weekend.  To caramelize onions was exactly what I needed.