A Road Less Traveled

This is a post I wrote over a year ago, just after launching the beta of NOURISH Evolution. It could have been written yesterday (and its exhortation is still applicable to me today) about being on the other side of so many other things: the NOURISH Evolution redesign, the launch of My Nourish Mentor, growing comfortable with teaching and leading and being on TV. We all go at such a pace it can be easy to forget where we’ve come from. Maybe you, too, are at a place where it would do you good to pause and ponder … what you’ve accomplished, what still lies ahead, who you are. If that’s you, I hope you enjoy revisiting this as much as I did.

For months and months and months I’ve been going at a pace that I knew I couldn’t–didn’t want to—sustain, just to get over the hump. And now that NOURISH Evolution is on its feet in its first iteration, I feel like I’m finally on the other side. Which is very good. One of my goals was to get over the hump before the end of July, when my daughter starts her first days of pre-school, so I can really focus on nourishing my family and friendships.

But I realized this weekend that in order to do that, I also needed time to renew myself.

road-less-traveled

So this morning I woke up committed to taking some me time. I dropped Noemi off at daycare still unsure of where I was headed. Yoga? I thought . . . but my body is sore and a class felt like too much. A walk with Jann? I thought  . . . but Jann’s grandsons are in town and she’s got her hands full. It was early and cool on a day destined to be a scorcher, and I suddenly realized how much I craved being outside, walking, moving, inhaling. I headed towards West Dry Creek to take my usual loop around Brack and Jameson alone; a walk that I know every step of almost by heart.

And then I felt a gentle urging to keep driving up the road; to go someplace I hadn’t been before.

So I did, not much further, just a mile or two. I turned left onto Wine Creek Road, parked at the edge of a vineyard and stepped out to explore. All the elements were the same—lush vineyards, the broad shoulders of St. Helena in the distance, the gentle rise of Geyser Peak—but the perspective on each was different than I was used to and I felt like I was seeing the beauty of this place with fresh eyes. I recognized the scent of crushed fruit and dusty earth that has brought tears to my eyes more than once in the past for the sentiment it stirs in me of a longing satisfied. I stopped to nibble on plump blackberries and plums and marveled anew how breakfast can grow wild by the side of the road.

This place claimed me over a decade ago; it was the first place I ever felt called home to and it’s where I am content and humbled to be raising a daughter I never could have imagined with a husband I never could have hoped for doing what I never would have dared dream.

I just needed to be reminded.

It was a road I hadn’t traveled before—much like the one I’m headed down with NOURISH Evolution—and it was just where I needed to be.

Take Your Time

nton-small-iconWhen I have back-to-back trips, as I have the past few weeks, I start to feel like I’ve barely gotten one foot in the door before I have to pack up and head out again. It can leave me feeling hectic. It can make me feel perpetually rushed. I find that when I get into overdrive like that I need to be very deliberate about slowing down and re-calibrating, and mealtime is the perfect opportunity to do so.

It takes concentration to stop from whizzing through the meal at first. I think about each bite as I assemble it on my fork. Occasionally, I even put my fork down altogether to really listen to what my husband is saying across the table or, if I’m alone, watch the hummingbird hover outside the window or inhale the scent of my neighbors’ orange blossoms. At first, the individual actions can feel plodding and exaggerated. But as the days wear on, I begin to feel like my feet are touching earth again, like my breath is reaching my fingertips again. It feels so good I wonder how I could ever have let myself become otherwise.

This week, I challenge you to slow down and take twice as long to eat as you normally do. Start out with a baseline by timing how long it takes you to eat dinner tonight–from plates down to plates up. Then, for the rest of the week, set the kitchen timer for twice that amount at mealtime. At first, it may feel like an eternity. But notice the effect it has on you–what you eat, how you go about your meals, how you feel, and even what you choose to make for dinner–throughout the week. It’s a great chance to catch your breath before the rush of summer is upon us.