Rice is Sexy.

White rice.  Bleh.
Brown rice.  Meh.
Forbidden rice.  Huh?

It's purple, and the name is so sexy and seductive.
I just had to get my hands on that.

Turns out, legend has it this ancient grain was reserved for the emperors of China, and was often referred to as 'longevity rice.'  The deep purple hue also means that it is rich in anthocyanins, a powerful antioxidant also found in blueberries.

It's like 50 Shades of Grey...for rice.

I think every aspect of life is art, including food, so it makes me especially happy when I create beautiful, nutritious, and colorful meals. This was inspired by the brilliant Julie Piatt, whose wisdom has taught me to be more present and grateful, and whose artistic soul is so evident in her meal creations.

#plantpower #eattherainbow

This meal will raise your vibration on so many levels... Stir-fried organic kale, organic rainbow chard with fresh grated ginger, forbidden rice, shiitake mushrooms, and organic baked sweet potatoes.

Money Can't Buy Me Love...

...but it can buy me a new bike!  

Arriving in a few weeks!!

I think it's money well spent when it'll only make you faster, fitter and happier.  At the end of the day, it's cheaper than therapy and I (fortunately), don't have diaper and daycare expenses.

I feel like my life is being upgraded on so many levels... everyday I am so grateful and look forward to feeling the wind in my hair and summiting many peaks (figuratively and literally)...

To Infinity and Beyond.

I first read this quote on my good friend's Instagram.  It made sense- we grow up and from the beginning are told how we should behave, what we should believe, what we should wear, how we should speak.  We are so busy becoming 'like the masses' that we lose our individuality, creativity and inspiration in the process.

I think a better question to ask is, "What did you want to be when you were 8 years old?" Remember the time when life was free from bills, mortgages, unfulfilling relationships and job stress, and the 'big' questions were what you were trading your sandwich for at lunchtime and who would be first in line for tetherball?

When I was eight years old, I wanted to be an astronaut.  I was fascinated with the zero gravity aspect; I was already pretty advanced on the monkeybars and would fantasize about being able to do somersaults in space.  I completely disregarded the whole need to excel at math/science- I wanted to be an astronaut because my whole job would be to explore the unknown, go into uncharted territory, do flips in outerspace, and make history.

No anti-gravity here, unfortunately. Pull-ups on the trails yesterday...

The freeze-dried food part was pretty cool, too.  When I visited the Kennedy Space Center in Washington D.C. as a 4th grader, I chose a freeze-dried neopolitan ice cream sandwich as my one souvenir.  I still remember savoring each bite later when I got home.  I loved how it felt when it touched my tongue and would dissolve into a delicious vanilla, strawberry and chocolate explosion.

Funny, and sadly ironic, is how these are the flavors of the Ensure Plus that are frequently prescribed in the hospital.  Perhaps a part of me now wants to embrace that adventurous spirit again of my eight year old self, taking with it my experience of nutrition and wellness, and reuniting it now with my fantasy of outerspace, blasting off into the unexplored, paving new ways, and knowing no limits.  I love who is in my space shuttle with me, and together we are excited to tread and uncover new territory in the health/wellness sector.  Together as we keep dreaming and keep creating, I know that we will be benefitting mankind in a deeper, more truthful and more authentic way.

To infinity and beyond!

Reigniting My Fire.

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." 

-Albert Schweitzer

Tonight's view from the campfire...

It's interesting how you don't even realize how you're down to burning your own embers until you meet a kindred spirit.  It's like the right-side of my brain finally exploded and took over my left brain, and my mind is spinning with ideas, visions and big dreams.  At night, sometimes I can't sleep, so I just roll over and write my ideas in my journal.  Getting them down on paper helps, and I find that when I look over them the next morning, I gain more momentum and draw lines connecting those ideas to new ones that I write down.

I've missed this; this feeling of adrenaline, excitement, of being in the flow-state.

It's fun to do this alone, but when you meet someone else who shares your fundamental dreams and visions and can give you open suggestions of how to improve yourself, this is what gives me a heartbeat. 

I love the musical Once, and my favorite scene is when Glen Hansard first teaches his song to Marketa Irglova.  I love the expression on his face when she starts harmonizing with him; it's like his smile recognizes this beautiful creative union- something that he would not have been able to accomplish alone.  When you meet other creatives/musicians/entrepreneurs, it is a beautiful thing to experience that magic, that fire...that shared vision and deep connection over something bigger than ourselves.

Two days ago, I scribbled in my journal a truth that I had discovered that day- "Awakenings stem from life's darkest moments."

Three years ago, I experienced one of the darkest periods of my life, and looking back, I am amazed at the ways I've grown in my understanding of the world, of myself, and of others.  Thank you to all of those who have helped me rediscover and rekindle my inner spirit.  You know who you are, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  

Show Up. Take A Bow.

"Knowing your path and going after what you believe in will naturally create serendipity around the right people that will support you, love you and help you grow; and if you continue to shape your life based on what you love, I believe everything else will just fall into place." 

-Amanda Slavin

Sometimes it just requires that you show up- the path unfolds after you take that first step...

The phone rang tonight, and on the other end was my 7 year-old niece.

"Do you want to come to my piano recital? It's on September 28th at 2:30pm."

I smiled and replied, "Oh absolutely!! I would love to come and support you!"

Her tone suddenly changed and became somber.  "I'm afraid that I'm going to mess up.  What will people think if I make a mistake?"  

"It's ok.  Everyone makes mistakes.  You just keep going.  Some people won't even know that you even made the mistake.  It's all about having the right attitude."

I heard a sigh at the other end of the phone.  Continuing in her very serious tone she answered, "My attitude is telling me that I don't want to play in the piano recital."

I told her the story of how nervous I used to get before all of my piano recitals.  One time, I started playing the wrong piece. (Claire de Lune and Long, Long Ago do sound pretty similar starting out, just for the record).  "And remember," I added, "We love you and will be there to support you.  And even if you make a mistake, we love you just the same because we are proud of you for being brave."

Her artwork of my sister and me playing the piano together...

Later tonight, it occurred to me- oh how some things never change, even when you're an adult!  We are all afraid of making mistakes, being negatively judged, feeling inadequate.  It may not be on a piano stage- it could be in the boardroom, giving a presentation, standing in front of intimidating colleagues, or in the classroom.

It's knowing, however, at the end of the day, that there are people in the audience who love you unconditionally.  They are clapping just as loudly for you whether you performed flawlessly or completely flopped.  They believe not only in your potential, but in who you are, at this exact moment.  And they cheer the loudest when you smile and take a bow, regardless if you perfectly hit all of the notes or forgot a whole entire section of the piece.

As an entrepreneur, I know that vulnerable experiences are exciting but they can also be frightening.  Like my niece, those same questions are floating in my head at times- "What if I mess up?  What if I make a mistake?"  Just like piano recitals, I know that not everything goes as planned.  It's what you do afterwards to recover that matters more.  You take a deep breath, collect yourself, move on, and later find yourself experiencing the love and joy of the music once again.

We must never let our fear prevent us from showing up on stage.

And whatever happens, we must always smile widely and take a bow, knowing that our tribe is out there in the audience, proudly cheering and clapping for us.

Asking the right questions...

Wild and Precious.

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" 

-Mary Oliver

I find that nature always keeps me balanced and asking the big questions.

I love this quote; such a profound question that we often fail to ask ourselves.  I'm starting to figure out the answer- the excitement literally keeps me up at night.  Although the details are still working themselves out, I know that my plan includes the following- service, gratitude, creativity and empowerment.

And from what I know of the world so far, only amazing and miraculous things stem from those intentions...

SunsetSmilesSunsetMiles.

"Everyday is a good day when you run." 

-Kevin Nelson

#nationalrunningday

What Did You Fail at Today?

For most children, dinner table conversations include questions like, "How was your day? What went well today for you?" But for Sarah Blakely, the founder of Spanx, she was asked a much different question each night by her father at the kitchen table- 

"What did you fail at today?"

She recalls, "If there was nothing, he'd be disappointed. I think failure is nothing more than life's way of nudging you that you are off course. My attitude to failure is not attached to outcome, but in not trying. It is liberating. Most people attach failure to something not working out or how people perceive you. This way, it is about answering to yourself. Failure was something we sought out and not this scary thing."

I've recently adopted this notion of the 'Blakely kitchen table' in my own life and started asking myself that question each night, "What did I fail at today?'  You may think that this question could lead someone down the hole into depression and straight to Loserville, but I am finding that the exact opposite happens.  In a sense, it is actually making me more fearless, urging me to constantly stretch myself in all areas of life.  So often it is easy to remain comfortable and to continue doing the things we are good at, right? But contemplating what I 'failed' at means that I need to try more things.  

Doing post-work pool work.

In the pool, I can comfortably swim 10 x 100 yards on the 1:30 interval.  I've been able to hold this interval (uncomfortably at times), but for the most part, since college.  Tonight, I decided to try and speed it up a bit, aiming for 10 x100 yds on the 1:25 interval. I made it to the 6th 100 until my lungs felt like they were going to explode and I hit the wall right when I was supposed to leave for the next interval. Did I feel like a failure?  Not at all!  Today, it wasn't about 'failing' to swim 10 x 100 yds on the 1:25, but learning that I had the speed and strength to swim 5 of them at that pace; something that I would have never even attempted in the past.  Sarah Blakely's father was brilliant.

I am allowing this question to permeate my life not only in sport, but also in the kitchen, in my relationships, and in my career. And so far, I've found that it has only been positive, spurring me on to stretch and try new things, without judgement or criticism.  Allow yourself to have the imaginative freedom to envision what you want to create in your life, without the inhibiting fear that most people have of the fear of failure.

Trying new things in the kitchen…I took a chance and didn't measure anything. Thankfully, these sweet potato energy balls turned out well!

I prefer a different set of wheels, but hey, I tried!

Sometimes, it all boils down to reframing and rethinking the notion of failure. If you want to change your life, change the question-

"What did you fail at today?"

Just what I was looking for. #change #SantaCruz

Get ready to be liberated. Get ready to be amazed.

Nozomi.

My dad just returned from a trip to Japan.  He brought me back a souvenir, and at first I was expecting some fun Japanese candy or treats.  So imagine my surprise when I opened up the bag and saw a beautiful necklace pendant that resembled some of his ceramic pieces.  It was packaged with a card that read "Nozomi Project."

A small but powerful object lesson.

Nozomi, translated 'hope' in Japanese, is a social enterprise bringing hope to women adversely affected by the 2011 earthquake and tsunami in Ishinomaki, Japan.  Nozomi women create one-of-a-kind pieces of jewelry using broken pottery left in the wake of the tsunami.  As broken shards are being transformed into beautiful treasures, lives are also being filled with renewed beauty.  The Nozomi Project symbolizes "Beauty from Brokenness."

Today, looking at the beautiful pendant made from broken pottery, it symbolized a greater lesson of restoration from brokenness.

I still remember those days like they were yesterday.  I would sleep, wake up from the nightmare, realize the nightmare was my life, and then try to go back to sleep.  I robotically created 'To Do' lists filled with meaningless tasks, just to give myself some structure in my life.  I numbly re-arranged the items that would have filled a brand new house into my old childhood bedroom.  I was so angry and confused- little did I know that this entire season of my life was teaching me a lesson in humility that could only be experienced with raw and absolute brokenness. 

It was 2006, and I remember sitting in the uncomfortable wooden pew.  I felt oddly out of place, even though it was the familiar sanctuary of my youth, with its familiar smells and carpet where I had grown up.  Feeling like an outsider, I watched the man on stage give an object lesson at the front of the church.  Most knew him as a comedian who also was a master ceramicist- I just knew him as Dad.  He had his potter's wheel and lump of clay, and we all marveled at the way he could effortlessly transform the ball of gray matter into a beautiful vase.  It was like magic.

And then, he said something that I'll never forget- "If the clay starts to get shaky or uneven, it can crumble down and fall into itself.  But as the potter, you simply re-work it and re-shape it- you don't just throw the clay away."  I saw him look up and I felt like he was looking at me directly in the eyes.  Tears streamed down my face.  This was more than a simple object lesson, this was a divine message from a Father to a daughter.

It was at that moment that I recognized and experienced hope.  We were not meant to live as broken shards, shattered pieces of beauty that "once was."  We can be picked up from the rubble, dusted off and polished until we shine-  Beauty from ashes.

There are times in our lives that will break us, shattering our spirits and our dreams.  While the world may tell us that we should stay in the dirt, shrouded from sunlight and buried under the rubble, this is simply not our destiny.  Remember that true beauty often comes from brokenness.  Sometimes simple souvenirs and unconditional love from a father can remind us of a greater Truth:

There is always hope, there is always nozomi.

Five Kernels of Corn.

This past Thanksgiving, we all sat down to this...

Five kernels of corn.

I listened to my mom as she shared the story of the pilgrims- it had literally been years since it's been told to me.  Usually we are so busy filling our bellies with sweet potatoes and turkey and stuffing- such a stark contrast to staring down at a plate with five lonely kernels of corn.

The first winter for the Pilgrims, the food shortage was so severe that each person was given a ration of five kernels of corn per day.  The next spring, the Pilgrims planted the remaining corn, and that fall, they had an abundant harvest of crops.  Every Thanksgiving thereafter, they placed five kernels of corn next to their plates to remind them of their blessings.

The first kernel reminded them of autumn beauty.
The second kernel reminded them of their love for each other.
The third kernel reminded them of their family's love.
The fourth kernel reminded them of their friends.
The fifth kernel reminded them of their freedom.

This was such a powerful object lesson for me.  Daily, I am making an effort to be more grateful, more aware, more awake- and to recognize and appreciate the kernels in my own life.  Especially in this season where everyone is inundated with purchasing, buying, wrapping and consuming- it becomes so easy to gloss over these fundamental truths of what truly fuels our fulfillment and happiness in life.

And it's funny, because all of these five blessings are free.  They do not have a price tag.  Yet they are priceless.

My first kernel- autumn beauty on the trails...

My fifth kernel- freedom from running pain.

Five kernels of corn.  Have you counted your blessings lately?

The Beauty in Crashing.

Of all the days in the year, I think today probably was the best day for me to crash my bike.  It seems that I always learn my lessons best in the most tangible ways.  So today, this is really what I needed for my heart and my head (not so much for my body or bike).  So I am counting it as a blessing.

The calm before the storm.

84 miles in, on an out-and-back coast ride from Santa Cruz to Half Moon Bay, a sudden sketchy span of curvy railroad tracks left me sprawled out in the road, my leg open and bleeding, with my bike strewn across the tracks. I know that you should always approach railroad tracks perpendicular.

In most cases, they naturally run perpendicular to the bike lane, not curvy-parallel. It caught me completely off-guard. But aside from the physical shock of hitting the ground, nothing was broken, the bike was fine, my brand new Betty Designs kit was not torn (big sigh of relief)...

The remaining 10 miles were rough, but I survived. My left wrist felt sprained and my leg was stiff, but it was good for me to immediately get back on and spin.

I told myself,"Get over the fear. You're ok."

Surprisingly, I was still able to enjoy the coastal view for the remainder of the ride, and to know that yes, this sport is risky, but with those risks come incredible rewards.

This view beats the stationary bike, that's for sure...

Sitting on the couch could be deemed safer (you don't need to wear a Road ID to change the channel), but I would miss out on the sights of the waves crashing against the rocks, hearing the calls of the seagulls, and feeling the wind upon my face.  Being vulnerable and open to new experiences has its risks always- but when you are in that space, it reminds you that you are a living, breathing, feeling being.  And there is exquisite beauty when you have the courage to venture and stay in that space. 

How sad if we allow the pain and scars from our past crashes to keep us locked in a cellar of fear, numbing us completely from the outside world?

Today was a perfectly timed tangible reminder that sometimes we are lucky in life to coast effortlessly.  And sometimes we suddenly and unexplainably crash.  And even if we don't know exactly what took us down, or how we got down- we just know it hurts a bit in places, but really, we're ok.  In the appropriate context, vulnerability is a good thing.  How much safer and easier it would be to never risk, to never fear rejection, to never really open up to love again- But wouldn't life feel shallow and superficial if you always played it safe?

Thankfully, the stiffness and scars eventually fade.  You get back on the bike.  Because there are countless beautiful roads yet to be explored.  And there are beautiful people still waiting out there to explore them with you.