No-Bake Adaptogen Energy Bites.

Adaptogens are remarkable nontoxic herbs that help the body restore balance and adapt to stress. They work essentially by shielding us against acute and chronic stress and help normalize the endocrine and immune system. They have a balancing capacity that is bidirectional- meaning the plants’ medicinal qualities will help the body regain homeostasis. For example, someone who is experiencing physical exhaustion might report ashwagandha root as energizing, where someone who is in adrenal overdrive might experience a calming effect from it. Adaptogens help balance the body in the areas it needs.

Enjoy these easy no-bake energy bites that contain medicinal and healing adaptogens as a snack or mid-day treat.

INGREDIENTS:

• 3/4 cup raw and shelled pistachios

• 3/4 cup raw cashews

• 15-20 pitted medjool dates

• 2 tsp vanilla extract

• 1/8 tsp sea salt

• 1 tsp maca powder

• 1 tsp ashwagandha powder

• 1 tsp reishi powder

DIRECTIONS:

1. Pulse the nuts in a food processor.

2. Add the medjool dates, vanilla extract, sea salt and adaptogens.

3. Blend together until everything is well-mixed into a dough-like consistency.

4. Form into balls.

5. Store in a covered container in the fridge for up to 4 days, or place in the freezer (my favorite!)

6. Enjoy!

Friendship As Told With Rocks.

I was reflecting on this particular question yesterday- “How is my life better this year than it was on January 1, 2020?” Immediately, my relationships came to mind. 2020 was the great filter for helping me identify the unnecessary, largely superficial interactions that seemingly took up so much energy and time and left me feeling more drained than filled. Remember elementary school? We had to be ‘friends’ with everyone- we were contained in a small microcosm of 30 kids where one wrong move could cost you an invitation to Sarah’s birthday party. The party that always had a piñata and party bags with laffy taffy and plastic slinkies. You couldn’t escape certain people because there was a chance you’d be paired up with them for a reading exercise, or you’d have to stand next to them in the lunch line. But the rules are different in adulthood. You get to choose who you spend time with. You determine who you clear your calendar for and who you decide not to text back.

In 2020, the relationships that mattered were solidified and prioritized. Conversations were deeper and more meaningful. Even though we physically saw each other much less, we could reach out when either of us was struggling. It was reciprocal and built on trust and integrity. In my most challenging moments, my friends consistently supported me with words of encouragement, cards, texts, care packages, and phone calls.

When we are in pain, it’s natural to isolate. But nothing ever heals from a place of hatred. It’s only when we begin to love ourselves and accept our circumstances with self-compassion when the healing can truly begin.

We don’t need more likes or comments. We need real friends. The ones who care for us will stay until we soften. They are unwavering and gentle. In our vulnerability, healing takes place when we are met with compassion, tenderness, and unconditional love.

Who in your life can you support? Who can you love better so they can begin to see themselves through your lens of unconditional love?

Sacred Nature.

Purisma Creek Redwoods Preserve

“The world is not a problem to be solved; it is a living being to which we belong. The world is part of our own self and we are a part of its suffering wholeness. Until we go to the root of our image of separateness, there can be no healing. And the deepest part of our separateness from creation lies in our forgetfulness of its sacred nature, which is also our own sacred nature.”

— Thích Nhất Hạnh, Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth

What We Can Learn From Elephants.

Today’s art is brought to you by my newly harvested oyster mushrooms.

Elephants show us how there’s so MUSHROOM for improvement in how we function as a society. Elephants teach us that you can be big and powerful and also be gentle, empathic, and compassionate. By communicating through infrasonic vibrations, the wise matriarch keeps the herd cohesive and focused on working towards a common goal. They are loyal to each other, and because of this trust and love, they cooperate well as a team. The matriarch leads in a way that is protective, nurturing, and inclusive. Elephants are the strongest land mammal on earth. And they only eat plants. The matriarch elephant exemplifies what solid leadership looks like in how they serve, uphold, unite, and protect their entire community.

Day 1, after soaking the substrate overnight in water.

Day 7. Spraying them with water twice a day (and playing them classical music to support their growth!)

Day 10. Harvest time!

Tending to these mushrooms twice a day despite the chaos of everything happening in the world was also a way to check in with myself:
-Am I breathing deeply?
-Am I well hydrated?
-Feeding my body nutrient-rich foods?
-Balancing light with darkness (deep sleep)?
-Grounding and connecting with nature?

I never expected that growing mushrooms would also serve as a mode of self-care. Watching these double in size daily was a tangible reminder that what we feed, grows.

Hope you’re tending and taking care of yourself in deep, nourishing ways. Take an epsom salt bath. Walk barefoot and co-regulate your nervous system with the earth’s. Sing. Spend time in nature. Self-massage. Diffuse essential oils. Dance. Cold plunges/showers. Deeply nourish your body vessel with nutrient-dense food, herbs, nervines and adaptogens. Deep abdominal breathing. Play and laugh. Write in a journal. Make art.

Sending you all light and love.

New Year, New Art.

Fluidity, an original alcohol ink 5x7” Kanzaki Card, now available for purchase.

I’ve updated some items in my shop as I’m clearing out the old to make way for the new. Have a look, and if there’s a card or design you’d like to see, feel free to let me know. My favorite things to create are those for specific people or special occasions. Cheers to a new year of making and creating from the heart.

New Year's Blessings for 2021.

I hope this year you do less, but better.

I hope you stay curious and open-minded. Learn a new skill, try a vegetable you’ve never had, spark conversations with people outside your usual community. I hope you find you share more similarities than differences.

I hope you take that idea you’ve been thinking about for a long time and actually begin. Everyone is scared starting out. We learn as we go and as we grow.

I hope you ask deeper questions that cut past superficiality and require vulnerability. The most authentic connections start with asking better questions.

I hope you remember that we never fully ‘arrive’- rather we are always becoming, transforming, transcending into more actualized versions of ourselves.

Don’t be afraid to live the questions and swim in the exciting, adventurous waters of uncertainty. Life would be dull if we were forever anchored in the answers.

I hope you watch something grow- whether it’s a plant or a tiny human- and celebrate this miraculous thing we call life and how we all need sun, water, food, patience and tenderness to thrive.

I hope you are kind. To others, and most importantly, to yourself.

I hope this year you contribute something generous and special to this world in your own unique way. May your cup always overflow with blessings and love.

Gutsy.

My ‘core desire’ intention for 2020 was GUTSY. In January of 2020, I envisioned it to mean stretching outside of my comfort zone athletically, professionally, and artistically. I chose this word because of its root word “GUT” which I associate with gut intuition. This year I wanted to be more aligned and in touch with my intuition. Quiet and still enough to hear it. Brave enough to follow it.

In February I registered for my first 30K trail race as well as a 4-day running retreat in Zion National Park. Flights were purchased. Accommodations reserved. This scared me enough into training consistently and questioning more frequently than I’d like to admit if I should cancel the registration entirely. But it allowed me to tap into feeling gutsy, so I persevered. Gutsy meant pursuing a scuba certification with a friend and making plans for regular surf sessions in Pacifica.

But just like everyone else, our world shifted. Along with our plans.

This year GUTSY looked different. It meant leaning into difficult conversations to protect the integrity and ethics of the workplace, only to discover I was tremendously supported and backed by my colleagues. Gutsy meant having enough faith and confidence in the caliber of my work to collaborate with media companies. Performing a new spoken word piece live for the first time in front of an audience with a musician never having practiced together prior to getting up on stage. Gutsy meant saying a hearty YES to corporate wellness opportunities and doing a global presentation on the gut microbiome. It meant composing new music and trusting and surrendering and watching it unfold magically before my eyes and ears. Gutsy meant inquiring into failed pitches with curiosity so I could harness their constructive criticism to improve and learn. Some of the most valuable feedback as a speaker were from these experiences. Gutsy meant riding solo along new bike routes, fixing mechanicals on the road, and learning to stay calm. Gutsy meant asking for help from neighbors and friends. Gutsy meant humbly accepting a medical diagnosis and admitting to my close friends and family that I was afraid and scared and suffering. Gutsy meant dancing with the fear that ‘it might not work’ and making new types of art, only to find out these projects were the most personal and meaningful things I created all year.

This year I discovered that I liked being home. I like the energy of my space, the way the light filters in and shifts throughout the day, the philodendron that flourishes next to my succulents and Pilea plant babies. How my meditation cushion sits near my yoga mat. The corner of my space with dumbbells and kettlebells and a balance board. The calm, quiet, peaceful solitude that encourages me to create and read books and make music. I learned how to propagate Monstera plants and dove deeper into herbalism and plant medicine. I created a morning ritual of Morning Pages, meditation, mobility, and movement. I call it my 4 M’s. I started soaking every evening in lavender epsom salt baths by the soft glow of candlelight and found I loved singing bowls and painted most freely to binaural beats. With the external world shut down, I was encouraged to turn inward. To get to know myself in a deeper, truer, more honest way. With the noise of the world stripped away, I could finally clearly recognize the sound of my own gut intuition. Being forced to stay home allowed me to come and return home. To myself. And right now, that feels like the perfect place to be.

Disconnect In Order To Connect.

Grounding practice in Huddart Park, Woodside.

“Unplug.
Ground down.
Bring your inquires to the trees.
Place your hands on their sturdy trunks.
Feel their energy pulse through you.
Connect to their ancient wisdom.
Mother Earth is always speaking.
Are you listening?”

— Julianne Kanzaki

Everything Is Waiting For You.

“Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.”

— David Whyte

What Is For You Will Find You

I wrote these words in my notebook last week. What is for you will find you.

Up until 2018, I had no idea there was a board certification for health and wellness coaching. I just knew I was drawn to this field and I loved encouraging individuals and helping them reach their wellness goals. I had 11 years of nutrition knowledge and experience as a registered dietitian, and a deep motivation and passion to empower people in their own health journeys.

The wellness coaching coursework took two years to complete outside of my job. 6am classes on Monday morning. Homework. Lots of reading. Practice groups. I loved every minute of it. Books like The Art of Possibility and others on positive psychology that were already dog-eared on my nightstand were woven throughout the coursework. Topics on motivational interviewing, presence, active listening skills, positive emotions, design thinking. Each week I was learning new skills that added to my toolbox. I noticed how my values of creativity, curiosity and a growth-mindset were natural parts of this field.

I can’t say that I actively searched out coaching. It found me.

Today, after seven weeks, I received my exam results that I passed. I am officially a National Board Certified Health and Wellness Coach! I am beyond grateful that every morning I wake up and get to do work I love and enjoy, and see individuals thrive and become the best versions of themselves.

I needed the fast-paced acute care clinical nutrition setting to teach me the foundational knowledge of nutrition in disease conditions and how to thrive in a stressful work environment. I needed my retail sales experience to learn how to interface with customers. I needed my teaching experience to learn the soft skills of empathy, reading nonverbal cues and body language. I needed to be a student again to remind myself that we are never done learning and educating ourselves. I needed to work in an environment where I felt my work wasn’t valued to fully appreciate how it feels to do work that matters and makes people better. So keep going. Everything can be used for a bigger purpose, for the bigger picture.

And never give up.

Indeed, what is for you will find you.

Write What You Know.

An excerpt from a journal entry in 2016. Art created with alcohol ink and pen, made with Procreate.

I attended a winter solstice writing retreat in 2014 where I didn’t know a single person. Everyone was older. Scholars and teachers. People who wrote for a living. We stayed in cabins without electricity and no one wore makeup. It was if they already knew the secret- you can’t make your writing better by looking better. There was nothing to prove, no one to impress through appearance. It was all about the picture you could paint with your words and your ability to cut through the fluff to touch down into something real.

Afternoons were spent walking silently near the ocean or writing in the grassy fields. We sat on thick wooden chairs with velvet cushions around the fireplace in the evening and read our work aloud to each other. I was scared and shy and wrote about subjects that were safe. As a result, my writing was distant and dull. Writing from a deeper place seemed impossible at the time. I needed to pierce through my own pain with self-compassion and acceptance before any breakthroughs in my writing took place.

It took time, but words were the breadcrumbs that led me back home to myself. I journaled every morning, writing longhand. Page after page. Through this writing practice I found my voice. It took this retreat to teach me the effort that goes into safe writing. That space of self-protection actually takes work. The writing also suffers. One of my friend says, “It’s too much effort to pretend to be anyone other than myself.” I vowed after this retreat to write from a truthful, raw, vulnerable, and real place. It’s in those corners of the soul where the real magic lives, and where we can connect most intimately with others. When we write what we know, inevitably, we write what others know too.