Just as I was learning to embrace my grandmother’s nourishing wisdom…

I am an animal lover and an environmentalist, so eating meat doesn’t fit. However, I also have some health issues, and after working with a nutritionist, I discovered my body fared much better eating meat and vegetables eliminating grains, legumes, and reducing the fruit–sugar is a problem for me.

But the more I dove into environmental activism, and the deeper my love of farm animals grew, my taste buds started to sync up with my moral core. Then I saw Cowspiracy.  My justification for eating humanely raised beef and chicken fell out from under me.  Were things to universally convert to my “sustainable” (grandmother’s) way, the entire earth would need to become farmland and this would only feed a population equivalent to that of the U.S. Obviously, this is not a sustainable paradigm.

SO, I need to change my diet.

I have a fairly good understanding or nutrition and health, and I’m a fairly good winging it cook (it is difficult for me to follow a recipe), but I have become a lazy shopper and this is a big change–this needs to be a transition.

The best way for me to thoughtfully evolve is to read and sense my way, with the goal of writing about what comes up as a way to keep my attention.

My Nourish category is my journal on this–a way to track ideas, recipes, and discoveries.  If this is helpful to anyone else and/or if it starts a dialog–fantastic!



IMAGE0009‘Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future.’ ~Thich Nhat Hanh

I adored my grandmother Nummie. “Eagle” was her response to “if you could be an animal….” Her favorite T.V. shows were Roller Derby and College Bowl. She epitomized blue-bloodism (and symbolized and believed in everything that I rejected when I turned 15ish). She was hilarious and loud. She enjoyed her cocktail hour. She was better as a wife than as a mother (according to my mother). And I loved to spend time with her after school. She provided a refuge for a moody teenager and she was fun. She died the night I graduated from high school. She had a beautiful upholstered mahogany rocking chair—her usual seat. Now, I have that chair in my living room. Now it is my usual seat for one of my recurring practices of reverence—having tea with God. With a cup of tea in my hands, I share a bit about how I feel, I express gratitude, and then I sit in peace—listening to the silence and the profound wisdom of that, slowly and evenly and reverently sipping on my tea—having tea with God and Nummie.