Living Healthfully: {Creative} Soul Food

Two weekends ago we hosted our second Creative Soul event focused on nourishing the mind, body and spirit.

Along with Toni from Food (Just Sayin'), I undertook the challenge of not just feeding but nourishing our guests with food not just cold-weather comfort food but also soul food.

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

As Toni and I spoke about preparing a menu for a large group of people, we had a few requirements:

the meal had to be heathy, moderately seasonal and absolutely delicious.

You might imagine that's no small task; but it was made possible by our gracious sponsor Whole Foods Market Deerfield, who provided ingredients for our meal!

So what does one make in the dead of January that fits all of the requirements of healthy, moderately seasonal and absolutely delicious? Glad you asked!

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

Our Creative Soul Menu:

• Coffee from Julie’s Coffee and Fruited Water
• White Whole Wheat Dinner Rolls topped with Flax & Poppyseed from Alley Side Bakery
• Roasted Red Pepper Hummus with Organic Vegetables
• Chicken Curry Winter Stew over Organic Golden Rose Brown Rice
• Mango Pudding topped with Organic Strawberry Sauce &  Tajin

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

We focused the bulk of our seasonal requirement on the main dish -- the winter stew --  by using local raised chicken and winter root vegetables.

The sweet potatoes and the turnips were absolutely perfect additions to the stew, making it hearty, filling and colorful!

And I learned from Toni that turnips actually taste a lot like regular old white potatoes while obviously giving different nutrients to the stew! Nice!





And, boy, was it a hit with our guests returning for seconds! Here's the Chicken Curry Winter Stew, which we served over whole grain brown rice, in all of its delicious glory.

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

Want to make it? Get the recipe at Food (Just Sayin')!

For a nutritious and tasty side dish, Toni and I used my trusty Vitamix to whip up a batch of roasted red pepper hummus and served it with a delectable array of veggies.

I love hummus for a few specific reasons: it's made with a generous portion of the heart-healthy fat, extra virgin olive oil, it's bursting with fresh flavors like garlic and red pepper and it's an simply extravagant tasting dish that almost always proves to be a crowd pleaser!

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

One important step I shared in making hummus was the importance of soaking beans in water for 4-8 hours and taking care to rinse them well before blending them into hummus.

Like with grains and nuts, soaking legumes is a way to mitigate the phytic acid, an anti nutrient that binds to minerals. Soaking maximizes nutrient density, which greatly aids in digestion!
Learn more about the importance of soaking grains, nuts and legumes at The Nourished Kitchen.


And then be sure to give the Roasted Red Pepper Hummus recipe a whirl; Toni shared it with us here!

Photo courtesy of Alita Maini.

After our morning spent cooking, I sunk into the cozy couch satisfied. We knew by the second helpings, the conversation and the energy in the room that our meal didn't just nourish the bodies in the room but also the souls with our {Creative} soul food.

Everyday Life: A Heart Tug of War

In second grade, my teacher told me that writers have names like Hyacynth upon reading a story I wrote when she'd only asked for a sentence.

And a seed was planted.

Growing up I defined myself first and foremost as a writer, and out of that definition I bloomed.

I drank words like greenery gulps rain; I feasted on sentences like the garden does sunshine.

None of that changed when I married or when I birthed my boys.

None of that except my heart.

Motherhood grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a new name: mommy.

A name given by the two little pieces of my heart that now walk around beating outside of my body. And in that name of mother, I discovered another identity, too -- one seen clearly in the reflection of motherhood: daughter.

Beloved by my Creator and made to be a writer, yes, but a mother, yes, just as much in this season. 

And so goes the tug of war on my heart, centered around who I am.

I am always daughter; I am always beloved.

But right now, I am very mother. And in motherhood, I feel writer slipping away from me.

Because writers, well, writers

should write books.

And submit pieces to magazines.

They should carve out a few hours per day to lay down stories into print.

Keep up their clips and skill and hone their art.

But where are the hours for that in motherhood?

Time? Yes, there is time to sneak a few thoughts onto paper, time to write a mini manifesto about why feeding spaghetti to the small ones on a stressful day never actually ends in waves of calm, time to pour out small gleaned moments into black on white.

And that's it. That's all I'm willing to give it right now.

Because while I have to keep reminding myself that, yes, I will always be a writer and, yes, I will always be mother.

I will never be a mother in this season again.

And the most important story I'm writing right now is the one we live out everyday.

This piece was written live at Saturday's Creative Soul even during our Writing Circles. Want to sign up for a virtual one? Click here!

Bigger Picture Moments: On community and creativity

I was desperate.

By last week Thursday, after weeks of feeling like we're at the over-saturation point with all the demands of life -- a small business in limbo, my new job, my writing and John's increasingly demanding full-time job -- bleeding over the lines we'd carefully drawn to protect our family life and our inner lives, we didn't just need to put the brakes on, we needed to full out stop the car, fling open the doors, get out and breathe together.

So one night we did. While that time was exactly what I needed with my husband, I still felt in need of refueling --  but I needed a stop that would take longer than one at the pump.

I needed nourishment and strength -- the kind you get only when you surrender from the road for an entire night after you've been driving wildly for days {weeks?} on end.

When life goes into overdrive, what suffers most {behind, unfortunately, our marriage when we're not careful} is my inner life. 

When my voice goes quiet here for lack of time or energy to write my heart out

when there are no hours to spend with people who get and love me

when prayers become quickly shot arrows into heaven

when stillness is found only in the few silent moments before drifting off to sleep

there's a slow sinking of my heart, my inner life into a sand trap of depression.

As we rested heavy into Saturday's Creative Soul with times of writing, reflecting, sharing and pouring our hearts out onto blank canvases spread before our hands forming Visual Prayers,  I was reminded that we weren't made for a life of long-term over-drive. 



But, rather, we created for a life of rest stops

where we refuel around the table

together

Photo courtesy of Melissa.

not just to eat but to be nourished.

where we reconnect through stories shared,

remembering where we've seen Faithfulness

weave into our interwoven lives.



where we refresh our souls through

Conversation that often happens in the quiet.

A weary traveler, I stopped in my desperation to refuel this past Saturday.

But instead of simply just filling up the tank,

I found renewal in the purpose of continuing the drive.

Link your Bigger Picture Moment at Corinne's!

{Interested in Creative Soul? Read more here! Also, we're doing it again, and we'll release details soon!}

Everyday Life: Brake

He messages me in the middle of the day.

It's not unusual, but it's more than the characteristic "I love you" or "good morning."

I read heaviness, words hanging like soggy sheets on the line.

I feel like we've gotten beat up in some ways. Maybe it's just that we are walking in fog and need a lamp to guide each step.

It resonates.

These past few weeks have been damp with fine mist, thick and heavy, hanging in the short, hurried conversations, in the rush of meals around the dining room table, in the quick sinking of bodies into the bed at night -- a fog we've been trying to feel our way through.

A fog so thick it's forcing us to slow from the rapid speed we've been driving because highbeam headlights are useless.

And blinding.

That afternoon before he leaves work I call him; we are supposed to go separate ways tonight -- me to an appointment, him to a meeting, the boys with a babysitter.

Instead, though, I ask, could we just brake?

Could we flip off the bright beams and pull over to the side of the road?

Come together and look at each other instead of straining our eyes to see out the windshield a few more miles beyond where we are?

He drops the road map, and we halt to a stop.

We fling open the doors for some air,

whisper prayers for clarity into the darkness, breathe in

Your Word is a lamp for my feet and light to my path. Psalm 119:105

We sit in the soft glow.

together.

in the heavy fog.

in the stillness.

and realize we can see the ground on which we're standing.

And for now

it's more than enough Light to see the next step.

{This piece was written live at our Creative Soul Writing Circle. More on this tomorrow! In the meantime, join a virtual Writing Circle.}