Winter Reset
Over time, I’ve come to understand hunger as something far larger than food alone. We hunger for warmth, for rest, for aliveness, for meaning, and for connection—with ourselves, with one another, and with life itself. During the long, damp Northwest winters, this hunger can feel especially pronounced. This year, my husband and I gifted ourselves a week of warmth, simplicity, and care at Mar de Jade, a retreat center just outside Puerto Vallarta, inspired by the wise and gentle guidance of Scott Davis, https://www.scottdavisholistic.com
What we found there was nourishment on many levels. A gentle daily rhythm of meditation, yoga, Chi Gong, restoration, and time by the ocean invited us to slow down, soften, and listen more closely. The practices reminded me that healing often comes not from doing more, but from doing less—creating space for the body and heart to recalibrate, and for a deeper sense of presence and gratefulness to emerge.
This experience echoed the heart of Healing the Hunger when we strive to tend to our deeper longings—for connection, ease, playfulness, and belonging—our relationship with food naturally shifts. We begin to eat not just to fill, but to savor; not just to manage hunger, but to honor it as a messenger of what we truly need.
Nourishment came through the people who prepared and served the meals with warmth, the people who attended the training, the beauty of the setting, and the rhythm of movement and rest. Tending the mind and body on so many levels—environmental, relational, physical, and nutritional—creates the conditions where true healing can unfold.
Here are some Gentle Ways to Care for Ourselves at Home
Lower the bar with love. Assume you are already doing your best. Let nourishment be supportive, not another place to strive or judge.
Create ease through preparation. Batch cooking a pot of soup, with protein or roasted vegetables can quietly support you all week without requiring daily decision-making.
Make nourishment visible and accessible. Keep veggies, cooked proteins, or leftovers available so caring choices are easier.
Think in terms of support, not perfection. A simple, warm meal that steadies your energy is often more healing than something elaborate. Ask your family to help you with the preparation.
Include protein and warmth. Especially in winter, warm foods with protein help regulate energy, mood, and appetite.
Let the freezer be your ally. Frozen proteins, vegetables, or soups are acts of self-kindness.
Honor hunger on many levels. Sometimes what we need is food. Sometimes it’s rest, movement, fresh air, connection, or quiet.
Anchor care to a rhythm, not a rule. Plan ahead; A pot of soup on Sunday, a short walk after work, a few minutes of breath or gentle movement—small rituals add up.
Allow nourishment to be imperfect. Healing doesn’t require consistency every day; it grows through returning again and again.
Stay curious and kind. Notice what helps you feel more grounded, alive, and grateful—and let that guide you forward.