Low Lift Spring Meals '25

I am unraveling. In discovery rather than disaster. My writing is changing because I have changed. I’ll get to that more over the coming weeks but here are the things that have been on my mind.

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I pulled The Hermit card for this upcoming spring and I can feel its necessary quiet. I am staying curious and still- deepening my understanding about what it is I’m doing; what I’m thinking and writing and reading and listening to. My tastes in everything change as quickly as the weather around here does this time of year. I am growing our food, growing my music repertoire, my desire to learn, my wonderment, my capacity to love.

I’m thinking about how grateful I am that my book didn’t get picked up by an agent when I thought so much that I wanted it to, when I thought I wanted it to. It isn’t that I don’t want to publish my book but that book, that book isn’t ready. That book isn’t even the same book that it was and that is a beautiful and necessary thing- a testament to my growth as a human and writer.

I’m thinking so much about what it means to be writing from the other side (of a trauma-filled life complete with diagnoses and the therapy(ies) bill(s) to prove it) and I’m thinking about what this will mean for my writing (career) outside of what I thought I should be doing. I’m doing and writing what I want to now, not what I have to do to tread water. I’m thinking about the person that recently dropped their paid subscription, complete with a note that read- the content has changed, and they’re right. I don’t and can’t blame them but I also can’t help thinking about what trauma-porn does to what we choose to, and why, we consume.

I can’t stop thinking about what it means to not be hyper-consumed.

I’m thinking so much about how I’m not scared (while being scared) all the time anymore.

I am thinking about all of the learning and resting and listening and tending I am doing and will continue to do this spring. The expansiveness of my ritual practice, my gender, my connection to the earth, the garlic I will slice, the plants I will water, the books I will read, the strawberries I will roast, the music that will find me, the relationships I will continue to nurture.

I’m thinking about tantra- and not in a co-opt version of a sex-centered course someone will sell you but what it means for ritual and somatics. What it means for healing for both Anaya and I. I’m thinking about (physical) intimacy in the absence of sex. I am thinking about the embodiment of my own sex work.

I am thinking so much about how things, so many things are some of the worst they have been (still) while holding the fact that I am the best I have ever been.

I am the best I have ever been.

I am the best I have ever been.

Two things can be true.

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It’s time for another Low-Lift Meal Guide for this upcoming spring.

Maybe you’ll start your day (or night) with these Buttermilk Pancakes with Lemon & Ricotta and then make this Herby Farro Salad with Mini-Meatballs¹ for a late lunch or early dinner- the leftovers are 10/10. This Shrimp Pasta with Tomatoes, Kale and Capers has been in my back pocket for years and can be adapted to your dietary wishes quite easily. Round the meal out with Blood Orange Posset you prepped the night before and just as the spring really starts springing, make this Spring Celery//and salad²

1. The name of the salad is dumb but just promise you’ll follow the link, k?

2. I can’t I do not enjoy titling things so again, just check out the recipe if you’re turned off by the name, okay? Just go see…

Currently Reading: I finally got my hands on Rust Belt Femme by

Raechel Anne Jolie

just after its 5th Publication Day anniversary and I am very much looking forward to it.

Currently Listening To: the sounds of Anaya’s breathing beginning to slow. I managed to clock a few hours of sleep before he got home at 12:30 am from a committee hearing, made some tea, and will get into RBF until my eyes regain heaviness.

Currently Cooking: I have strawberries macerating in the fridge that will get slow roasted tomorrow, cooled, and then folded into scones.