What I wrote that changed everything. It even birthed this retreat.

NURTURING

March 12th, 2017

I've got a juicy little tidbit for you this week (well, little is relative – it's a good long share). As I was doing some behind-the-scenes preparation for the upcoming retreat, I needed to comb through some old Nurture Google docs. It took me waaayyy back to when Nurture first started and was still operating under my personal email address. While in the archives, I stumbled across an 'archeological specimen' I think you might enjoy. It is a journal entry I wrote to myself from a place of personal darkness and creative stagnancy, PRE-NURTURE.

Little did back-then me know that a mere 6 days later (!!!), I would fatefully meet a stranger – the woman whose off-handed comment unknowingly changed my life.

She gifted me with these magical words: “Well, Sonja, I don't have a magic wand to give you a farmhouse, but I DO have an idea. You should take your love of food, creativity and self care and combine them into a weekend retreat and rent a farmhouse for a few days!” This website is a good indicator of what happened from there, which is nothing short of magic (oh, and also a lot of hard work. That too.)

What to do when you've exhausted all the options? Pick a card.

NURTURING

February 5th, 2017

I used to be afraid to ring the streetcar bell. There were countless times when I would stay on until someone else rang the bell – often a few stops further than I needed. A small thing that speaks volumes about how I felt about and within myself at the time. Ringing the bell was akin to asking outright for something – acknowledging a need: Please stop. I need to get off here. It embarrassed me, as it announced my presence in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, self-conscious and exposed. At the time, I didn't have the staying power to be with that discomfort of being seen or expressing a need, so I stayed hidden and ashamed and, well, entirely self-absorbed.

What to Carry for Self Care in Your Purse

NURTURING

January 7th, 2017

They say the state of a woman's purse is the state of her soul. The purse I carry is relatively small, but like the narrator at the beginning of Aladdin says of his magic lamp: “Do not be fooled by its commonplace appearance – like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts.”

This is no ordinary purse.

While the outside is a stylish well-worn camel leather, splotched, sadly, with ink stains from The Unfortunate Pen Incident of 2014, the inside is more Mary-Poppins-carpet-bag in its magical capacity to store things you didn't think would fit. On so many occasions I have expressed a need of some sort, placed an exploratory hand inside this vessel, and emerged with the solution to many practical emergencies. Forgotten chocolate to bypass hangriness. A bandaid for paper cuts that happen mid-streetcar ride because I took my love of voracious reading a little too far. Finger puppets (don't ask). Needle and thread to sew a flimsy summer strap. Randomly and serendipitously, while in IKEA: a tape measure I'd borrowed from a friend and forgotten about.