Modern life and its many conveniences have created a culture of disconnection. From ourselves, from the land, from our role as caretakers of the earth. Thankfully our hands bring us back. They hold a living memory, a deep wisdom tying us to our ancestors. Every time we place our hands in the soil, work the land, cook a meal, or make medicine our body begins to remember what regulation feels like. We slow back down to the pace of the earth, knowing we are always supported.

Humans are called to be stewards of the earth and when we embody this role the earth says thank you. As we plant seeds and pull weeds, we stimulate the vagus nerve ~ reprogramming our nervous systems into a pattern of peace while rebuilding the soil. When we touch the earth and breathe in the microbes we build a flourishing ecosystem within our guts ~ just like our gardens. One that boosts mood, immunity, and digestion. When we silently tend and await the harvest we are rewarded with healing herbs and nourishing abundance. Gardening becomes a daily ritual, regulating our inner and outer ecosystems for mutual flourishing.

I would plant Rosemary, Thyme, and Oregano to warm the body, break up congestion, and boost cognition. I would gather Sage, Parsley, and Dill to support digestion and the menstrual cycle ~ easing bloating and pain. I’d plant Chives to help break fevers and Cilantro to enhance detoxification.

Ingredients ~

2 tbsp olive oil

1 butternut squash, deseeded, peeled, and chopped into small chunks

1 sweet potato, peeled and chopped

1 onion diced

1 thumb fresh ginger, grated

1 tsp ground turmeric

2 tbsp fresh rosemary

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 tsp white miso paste

1/2 tsp paprika

4 cups bone or vegetable broth

1 can full fat coconut milk

Salt and pepper to taste

Crispy Herb Topping ~

2 tbsp olive oil
½ cup pumpkin seeds
15 sage leaves
4 tbsp thyme leaves

Directions ~

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Add butternut squash, sweet potato rosemary, a pinch of salt, and 1 tbsp olive oil to a lined baking tray and toss to coat. Roast for 30 mins, until soft and golden.

Add 1 tbsp oil, minced onion, ginger, and garlic to a pot then brown over medium heat for 6 minutes. Add roasted vegetables, spices, broth, and coconut milk. Bring to a boil then reduce to a simmer for 15 minutes. Add the mixture and miso paste into a blender blend until smooth.

Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil on a pan over low heat. Add in your herbs and seeds, cooking until crispy.

Serve your soup with your crispy topping and fresh bread. Enjoy ♡

Journaling is not only therapeutic but also a way to document the things I want to remember. A photo can capture a moment of having dinner with new friends, but it cannot capture how that moment made me feel: how scared I was at first, how that feeling went away after I talked to them, and how I now feel braver about meeting new people. When I feel confused, I often go for a walk or journal. Writing helps me expand passing thoughts, understand how I truly feel, and find clarity. I may not always find the answers immediately, but journaling helps calm my mind.

I’ve lived in the same area for years. I have my favourite shops, park, and the same path I walk almost daily. I thought I had seen it all, yet one day I noticed a chestnut tree that had always been there. I had seen it before, but never noticed its leaves or its spiny burr, the things that make up a chestnut tree. I realised I did the same with birds. I thought there were only a few around me, but curiosity made me listen for them, follow their sounds, and learn about them. Noticing is paying closer attention to things, and it requires us to be curious and see what’s beyond the obvious.

I’ve always been fascinated by the changing seasons, and I love participating in the different activities each one offers. This autumn, I went to an apple orchard and came home with a basket full of apples. I made crêpes with caramelised cinnamon apples. I added a pinch of nutmeg and cloves, and my whole apartment smelled like autumn. The scent transported me back to past autumn days spent around the table with the people I cherish. I love how something as mundane as making breakfast can become memorable simply because I noticed it. An ordinary morning became part of my story because I chose to be there for it.

I think I was about five when I would watch worms crawling on the soil after rain. I thought the rain brought not only water but also worms from the sky, until my mom explained that they come out of the soil after rain. I did the same with ants too, following them around as they go about their day. As children, we are full of wonder and curiosity, but as we get older, the busyness of the world takes us away from it. Curiosity helps us slow down, shift our attention from worries to what is right in front of us, ground us and help calm our nervous system.

To me, the difference is intention. A habit can become automatic. A ritual asks me to actually arrive. Breathwork and yoga asana became a ritual when I stopped using it to “fix” how I felt and started using it to meet myself. The breath is brutally honest. It shows me when I’m rushing, gripping, bracing, or avoiding something. 

Now I return to it less like, “How do I change my state?” and more like, “Can I be present and sit with what’s alive for me right now?”  Sometimes that looks sacred. Sometimes it’s me sitting on the floor for five minutes with a hand on my belly, dropping into my body. That’s sacred enough for me.

Regulation does not mean being calm all the time. We’re alive. We’re supposed to move through anger, sadness, activation, joy, grief, all of it.

To me, regulation is not about never leaving center. It’s about knowing how to find your way back. Sometimes that’s soft breathing on a yoga mat. Sometimes it’s crying, shaking, sprinting into the ocean, laughing until your stomach hurts, or admitting you’re feeling all of your humanness. The goal isn’t to become less human. It’s to become less afraid of being human.