A Feast For My Spirit

I recently returned from a week-long retreat in the Dominican Republic. I went to listen more closely to myself. Something’s been stirring in me—quietly and persistently—and I knew I needed some space to hear it. Sometimes, getting out of my everyday surroundings quiets the usual noise in my head just enough to hear what really wants to speak up.

I went for a change of view.

What if, for a handful of days, you sat with a group of people who were there just to help you see inside yourself? People who want to listen to what you’re longing for, dreaming, building, and wondering about? Who don’t try to “fix” you, but instead ask, “how can I help?” It was an intentional deep dive. And I was exactly where I wanted to be, doing exactly what I wanted to be doing—surrounded, it turns out, by the exact people I didn’t even know I needed!

There’s a magic that happens when people gather with open hearts and a shared desire to grow.

While this wasn’t a food-focused trip, it was a banquet of another kind. Every day began and ended around a table, and those meals ended up meaning more than I expected. Breakfast and dinner weren’t where the deep inner work happened, but they framed the days, and were where connection took root as we ate together, swapped stories, cheered each other on, and laughed. It was soul food of a different order!

My experience reminded me, again, of food as an entry point of bringing us together and building a sense of belonging, as well as its transformative magic when we come as we are and eat together. There is a sacredness in the power of gathering this way.

If I could bottle the uplift I came home with—the clarity, the courage, the thrill of possibility—I would hand it to you with both hands and say, here, this is yours too.

Because that’s what I truly want for you: to know, in your bones, that you are the one creating your life. Because you have this power.

What stirred in me during this time away was a stronger connection to what’s possible. And the beauty is—it wasn’t just the setting or the people, though they mattered deeply. It was the choice to gather, to pause. To listen. To feel really grateful and to look inward with kindness and curiosity. To notice all the good around me every day of my life and give thanks for that.

That’s what changed me. That’s the fuel I brought home.

My beautiful compadres!

So, instead of a recipe to share this week. I have this offering:

Whatever you’re working toward, whatever you are longing for, wanting to build or to become—do it with someone who gets it. Someone who sees what you see, especially if what you want isn’t fully formed yet. Who doesn’t flinch when you speak your dream out loud, and won’t shrink it down to make it “reasonable.” Someone who knows you are more powerful than you realize.

Find people who can imagine your vision with you, with tenderness and strength and who, most especially, remind you who you are when you forget.

Because becoming isn’t a solo act—it’s a shared one. I don’t think we are meant to dream in isolation.