The Ground Beneath My Feet

I’ll never forget the morning Luna and I discovered wild elderflower blooming along our favorite foraging trail. My golden retriever started digging near the base of the tree, and there it was – a patch of wild garlic that would later become my signature spring soup.

That moment changed everything. I realized my bare feet on the kitchen’s worn wooden floors weren’t just about staying grounded – they were connecting me to every ingredient’s story, from soil to soul.

Where Food Meets Meditation

My spice collection tells a story too. Organized by chakra colors, each jar holds more than flavor – it holds intention. The red paprika sits next to my root chakra oils, while the golden turmeric radiates near my solar plexus stones.

I ring my meditation bell before each cooking session, the same way I do before teaching yoga. It signals the start of something sacred. When I’m chopping vegetables, I speak to them – thanking the carrots for their sweetness, acknowledging the kale’s strength.

My Kitchen Sanctuary

The microgreens on my counter have names like Warrior Pose and Downward Dog. They remind me daily that cooking is just another form of yoga – each ingredient flowing naturally into the next, building harmony with every stir.

My morning ritual never changes: twenty minutes of meditation followed by a green smoothie made with whatever herbs Luna and I found that week. Sometimes it’s dandelion greens, sometimes wild mint. Always with a generous sprinkle of nutritional yeast – my liquid gold that transforms everything it touches.