We Are the Forest.

Sunrise miles at Redwood Regional Park

Underneath these Redwood trees is a rich root system that allows them to communicate with each other. It's an entangled and highly efficient web of information that travels underground, alerting them to the presence of antagonistic fungi or insects, and allows nutrients and water to be optimally divided so photosynthesis takes place evenly.

When trees are being attacked by certain insects, they'll emit a scent which alerts and warns neighboring trees of the imminent danger. As a result, these trees will begin to release a scent that will attract those insects' predators. When an older tree falls, this highly integrated root system allows neighboring trees to continue to feed this parent stump for thousands of years, nourishing it and keeping it alive.

But interestingly enough, trees not only share food with their own species, but they even go so far as to nourish the species of other trees. Other trees classified as competition. Why? Because there are advantages to working as a collective whole. Together, the trees create an ecosystem that moderates temperature extremes and allows them to store a great deal of water and humidity that protects the forest as a whole. A tree alone is not a forest. Isolated from the rich root system and network, it cannot establish a consistent local climate. If every tree only watched out for itself, it would dry out in the summer heat. It would quickly fall prey to insects and wouldn't sustain nutrients. It would easily die.

It's time to send out our nutrients to our neighboring tree stumps who still need our help. To forget about our differences and communicate across species in order to survive. It's time to work together as one collective forest.

 

 

Three Important Questions.

It's been said that Native American medicine men ask the sick three important questions before beginning any healing treatment:

  • When was the last time you danced?
  • When was the last time you sang?
  • When was the last time you told your story?

Their answers provide valuable feedback and help them determine how severe the injury, illness and sickness is. We are so much more than our physical bodies. Food and exercise are important, but let's not forget the importance of allowing ourselves to play. To create. To take the time to tell our stories. 

How to Know Whether to Ignore or Follow Your Fear

Stepping out...  (Mirror Lake, Yosemite National Park)

This whole time I thought there was only one type of fear. The deep-rooted, irrational, worst-case scenario lizard-brain fear. The kind that tells us to avoid that conversation when our partner says, “We need to talk” because it’s uncomfortable and we might get broken up with and never find love again. It’s the fear that tells us not to press ‘publish’ because people may not like what we wrote. It warns us that if we quit our full-time job, we won’t be able to pay our rent or afford health insurance. We’ll be forced to eat $0.10 ramen and everyone will shake their heads and say, “I told you so.” The Hebrew word for this type of fear is pachad.

There’s another kind of fear. But it has a much different type of energy. It’s what you feel when you step onto the stage as the lead actor and you’re ready and excited and the energy is pulsing through your veins. It’s standing underneath El Capitan and feeling awe-struck amidst the grandeur of nature. It’s what washes over you when you hold your newborn for the first time. This is the overwhelming feeling of reverence and magic when we enter into a larger space (physical or psychological) than we’re used to inhabiting, or when we’re filled with more energy than we’re used to possessing. It’s when we’re in the presence of God and deeply connected to our spiritual essence. It’s a holy fear. The Hebrew word for this is yirah.

When we’re still and quiet, we can discern one from the other. Pachad keeps us small, safe and hidden, but discontentment silently breeds here. Most people’s lives are largely dictated by pachad. But yirah feels much different. We lean into this when we listen to our intuition, turn our heads to acknowledge what our hearts are crying out for, and follow our calling.

Truly stepping into our lives means learning how to manage the screaming pachad. To soothe it, quiet it down, rock it to sleep. And then tiptoe away and swing open the door and step fully into yirah, which has celebratory balloons and streamers and confetti and has been waiting for us to cut the cake all along.

Wake Up.

El Capitan, Yosemite National Park

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”
— Anaïs Nin

I equate the past month to the feeling of when NyQuil finally wears off. The grogginess fades. The mental clarity returns. I've loved Neil Gaiman's work for the past year. I've listened to this so many times and it never, ever gets old. But now, more than ever, I feel it in my bones. In my heart. I know it's still winter, but I'm done hibernating. I'm ready to start living. I'm ready to make good art.

What are some people or books or songs that have helped you wake up and show up more fully in your own life?

Deep Work.

Montara Mountain, Pacifica

“There is always an enormous temptation in life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end. It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral...but I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous...more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain or Lazarus.”
— Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Here's to deep friendships, meaningful conversations, and discovering the light and extravagance you have within you. 

Maca Cinnamon Cacao Crunch Truffles

It's January 7th. Have you blown all your New Year's resolutions yet? Hopefully you didn't make any. But, if you're trying to kick your sugar habit to the curb and are teetering on the edge of ripping open the shiny foil wrapper of that chocolate and reading this post, just hold out for five minutes.

Here's a better option. It happens to not only taste delicious, but it's loaded with superfoods (maca, cacao) AND is free of refined sugar. Which means you won't feel awful about yourself (or lethargic, bloated, lazy, etc.). It's a win-win. A no-brainer. And it's super simple to make.

(Disclaimer: Upon reading the recipe I was 'supposed' to be following, I realized I totally misread the proportions and failed to follow the directions. So this is MY version! My art! My truffles! Enjoy. If you make your own rules, I'm sure it'll turn out fabulous too...)

Navitas Naturals: The Superfood Company

INGREDIENTS

  • 1/2 cup raw walnuts
  • 1 cup cacao butter, melted
  • 1/3 cup maple syrup
  • 1/3 cup coconut sugar
  • 1/3 cup maca powder
  • 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1/4 tsp sea salt
  • 1 Tbsp cinnamon
  • 1/2 cup sweet cacao nibs, divided

DIRECTIONS

Sweet cacao nib powder

  1. Place the walnuts and 1/4 c  of sweet cacao nibs in a food processor. Blend together briefly to chop, but leave a little texture.
  2. In a small saucepan, melt the cacao butter, maple syrup, coconut sugar, maca powder, vanilla, cinnamon and salt.
  3. Add the wet and dry ingredients together and stir until well-combined.
  4. Refrigerate for about 20 minutes to slightly harden.
  5. Using a mortar and pestle, grind up the remaining sweet cacao nibs into a fine powder.
  6. Form the truffle mixture into melon-size balls, and dust the outer surface with the cacao nib powder.
  7. Refrigerate the truffles for one hour longer to set completely, and then ENJOY!

Oh yeah...this also happens to vegan, gluten-free and *all that jazz*

Muddy Buddies.

Brushy Peak Regional Preserve

The soft rolling hills flaunt a lush, vibrant green color after the storms. Recent rain saturates the trails with a sticky sort of mud that glues itself to the bottom of your shoe. It accumulates with each step until you're wobbly and teetering on mud high heels. We stop every so often, out of necessity. Find an angled rock, a stick, a thick patch of dry grass to scrape off the inches of mud and continue on. We laugh. It's so ridiculous. The journey is slow-moving and yet so beautiful. At the end, we pound the mud cakes from the bottom of our shoes and they fling into the air like flying mud saucers. 

Life is muddy. It's not orderly or neat, no matter how hard we try to make it so. You work for a company for 20 years and get laid off. Your kid starts hysterically screaming in the middle of the plane flight. You get a text from your ex at the same moment you begin a new relationship. You get rear-ended on your first day of vacation.

We all accumulate debris and mud along our journeys. The good news is, we're not alone. We have each other. To trudge along with, to hold up, to balance on when we're scraping off the mud. It's messy and slow and precarious at times. And yet! It's worth it- to explore, to see, to experience life together. 

Who can you specifically support this week on their journey? Who needs your help to clean off the excess debris they're carrying so they can get moving along again in life? 

How My Life Improved Once I Gave Up New Year's Resolutions

2016 in a nutshell... #topnine

Instead of New Year's resolutions, I choose core desires. This leaves my life open to serendipity and opportunities rather than checking off the goal boxes. In 2016, I wanted to experience adventure, exploration, creativity and community. Many things come our way during a year. With each new project or idea I encountered, I always asked myself first, "Will this allow me to feel more adventurous? To explore? Will this cultivate more creativity or community in my life?" Using this different approach and framework opened up many new doors, encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone and say yes to opportunities I would've normally passed on. Looking back, it's fun to see how 2016 played out...

  • I finally learned how to surf
  • I created 100 handmade cards in 100 days for strangers and friends alike through my #100DaysofMaking project
  • I took a chance and reached out to inspiring runners/entrepreneurs that I followed on Instagram, asked if they wanted to meet up, and became real-life friends with them
  • I had the privilege of creating more wellness retreats, plant-based dinners and picnics with my friend and fellow dietitian Praveena 
  • I got rid of 500+ items from my life that no longer sparked joy through the Minimalist Challenge
  • I wrote every single day
  • I solo-explored more coastal trails, saw waterfalls, and experienced the magic of more sunrises and sunsets than in any other year
  • I joined my first writers group
  • I became better at saying 'no' to the projects and people and things that weren't a "HELL YES!"
  • I ran my first nighttime trail run in Marin
  • I was a brand ambassador for Betty Designs and had the privilege of racing with, cheering for, and collaborating with inspiring women athletes from all across the globe
  • I learned how to dance better with my fear. I got better at holding those two ideas in my head at the same time- "It might work. It might not work." I tried a lot. I failed a lot. But learned from each and extracted clues on how to pivot and iterate.
  • I came to more deeply appreciate and understand how much I need my tribe and community, and how much I value the support of my friends and family.

So perhaps, like me, you're tired of New Year's resolutions. Maybe it's time to choose how you want to feel, and go from there. Because at the end of the day, isn't it all about how we feel?

Wishing you a wonderful 2017. May you cultivate and create the life you want!

 

 

A Job, A Career, or a Calling?

Triple Falls, Oregon

Do you have a job, a career, or a calling? This is beautifully illustrated with the story of three workers. When asked what he did, the first man responded, "I am laying bricks." The other answered, "I am making a wall." And the third man replied, "I am building a cathedral."

A lot of people are content with their 9-5 jobs. They arrive at work, check the boxes, and clock out. It's the only responsible way to pay the bills, cover the mortgage, and provide for their family. But if asked, they would rather be somewhere else, doing something else. 

Others are actively climbing the career ladder. Hungry for the next promotion. Their eyes are on the prize, always aiming for the higher rung. Putting in overtime and motivated by an internal drive for more growth, power and prestige. Their purposeful and relentless work ethic is admirable to some.

But the most generous, inspiring and transformative people I know are those who have a calling. They would do what they do even if they weren't getting paid. It makes them come alive. It's why they were put here on earth. They are enthusiastic and their work changes us. They are the cathedral builders and they get me all fired up and excited and have me sketching and brainstorming and placing bricks down. Because now I've decided that I want to build a cathedral too.

There's risk involved. It might not work. People may not like it. But at the end of my life, I don't want to be staring at a brick. I want to be gazing upward, wide-eyed with wonder through the stained glass windows of my life. Wouldn't you?

Tinker Creek Thoughts...

Mirror Lake, Yosemite National Park

“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe delicate air, whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them.”
— Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek