Monday, April 24, 2017

On not teaching for a month


It's been almost six weeks since I've taught a yoga class. Longest break I've taken since the three months I stepped away to birth a human.

Feels kind of strange, and ok. It's good to take some time off. A sabbatical of sorts.

And I've realized a few things. Like: 

1. Sometimes it's nice to just shut up and listen.

There's so much chatter in the yoga world. Lots of woo-woo, sure, but also just lots of word salad. If I had a dollar for every newsletter or Instagram post I've ever read that left me shaking my head and asking WTF that yogi just said, I'd be a rich lady. There's a lotta whack shit out there. And sometimes we all benefit from just shutting the hell up and listening.

Also: we flew cross-country five times in March, which meant I got the chance to read five amazing books. Again, it felt quiet and nourishing to not be the one spewing content. To just sit back and listen to someone else's voice (be that Ruth Bader Ginsburg or Nadia Bolz Weber or Paul Kalanithi) and just get over myself.


2. Recalibrate. Get clear. What am I teaching, and why?

Not teaching, I feel more able to be real. Political, thoughtful, quiet, serious. There is an element of teaching yoga that is performative, super-extroverted, that is very much like being onstage in musical theater or holding court behind a bar. And it often requires us to be chirpy, perky, pastoral leaders. And it's one element that I'm increasingly disinterested in.

Not teaching, I feel less pressure to be perky, allowed to be more of a writer and less of a cheerleader. I never wanted to be an aerobics instructor, and in spite of its roots in meditation, there's something about teaching yoga that's uncomfortably parallel to that shit.

But to me, a yoga teacher is more a moving meditation teacher than anything else. So how can I share the practice I love without having to be a motivational speaker with a job-requirement tight ass? How can I be more authentic in my personal, online, and teaching presence? That's the question.


3. Yoga is often a social club. It doesn't have to be.

There are plenty of benefits to the social aspects of practicing at a studio, and my life is a testament to that. (Hello, I met my husband in a yoga studio! And most of my best friends are long-time yoga peeps.)

But my practice right now is meditative and quiet and simple. It's fast and butt-kicking and athletic, for sure, but it's not flashy. Not even public. It feels like the ultimate portable meditation device (I think credit goes to Sharon Salzberg for that line).

It goes anywhere I go. And it was a foundation in the midst of a month of living in hotels, out of suitcases, practicing on unfamiliar floors in strangely-lit rooms that were not mine. I love yoga's minimalist, almost monastic simplicity: just calling for your breath, your bare feet, comfortable old clothes you can move in, and a hotel room towel on the floor.


4. Definitely drink more when I don't have to be up at 6am to teach 8am classes.

"Oh, hey again, beer! Welcome to the New England cider tour. Haven't met a Sauvignon Blanc I didn't like lately. But why does my head hurt so much today?"


5. Living on beer and fries doesn't increase your prana.

We've had our own kitchen (and our own pots and pans) now again for about two weeks, and after a month of beer and fries, it feels like heaven. Just being able to make lentils and greens for lunch again has been huge. Greens are good. Greens are great. Let's get more of those on restaurant menus, please. Sidenote: Thai and Indian restaurants are especially great for cobbling together a delicious vegan(ish) dinner on the road.

That said, you can get by on 2 or 3 practices a week and still feel ok. The asana opportunities ebb and flow. The asana comes when it comes. And you survive when it doesn't.


6. Yogis can be (inadvertently) annoying. Hush up, already.

If you're going to be living above someone, start practicing your bandhas, because jumping to the top of your mat means you'd better float, bitch, or they're gonna hear a big "thud" every time you land.

(Luckily, we bought a first-floor flat, so I can continue to be a lazy yogi. Hooray for a beautiful tiny urban home, across from a park, coming at the end of May. We are delighted.)


7. Fuck the arm balances. 

Sometimes other things are more important. And the arm balances will come and go.


8. The yoga world feels open. In a nice way.

Starting over with finding/choosing a studio means I can really feel out what's the best fit. That's important. That's everything. Trying to teach the wrong style of yoga at the wrong kind of studio can be soul-sucking. So let the yoga studio speed-dating begin.


Photo by Liz Bottrell Photography

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Things I've Learned About Boston So Far

 
 
Hello from Boston!
 
We've been here a whole week and a half now, so I pretty much know jack shit. But here are the few things I've figured out so far:
 
1. Public spaces like parks and playgrounds and libraries are paramount. It's that urban vs rural contrast. In the city, life happens outside your 1000-sq-ft flat. And having kids just means you're out in community spaces more often, especially in the city where you don't have a yard. Dig it. Glad my tax dollars are going to support these things. Socialism rules, baby.

2. Great Italian food here. Not as much gluten-free as in hipster-foodie Portland, but French fries are GF, so I'll survive.

3. The accent is for real.
 
4. Cambridge is super-urban. It reminds me so much of Berkeley. Lots of that Shattuck and Telegraph Ave energy.
 
5. Welcome to big city traffic. Portland's "gentle urbanity" spoiled us on that. Grateful I've been hardened by SF traffic so it doesn't feel like such a shock.

6. People smoke here. Not used to that.

7. The sun comes out, and stays out!! Two, three days in a row!!

8. Diversity is epic and essential. International communities for the win. I love, love that we walk into the library and Duke hears a million different languages and witnesses a million different races and religions and ethnicities and family configurations and it's all just a part of the normal daily tableau.

9. Portland got us all soft on shit like parking and housing prices. Time to get back on the urban horse.

10. Lower your real estate expectations. Unless you're buying out in the burbs, you're buying a flat or a condo. The upside is most (all?) of the beautiful old homes around here are split into condos. It will take me awhile to get used to the idea that a nice 2br 1ba 900 sq ft condo runs $750k, though. And don't even think about two parking spots. (Someone told me one spot in Brookline went for $200k!!)

11. Walking is key. Public transport, too. Pahk the cah already.

12. The parents in Duke's little Waldorf parent-child class are super cool. One's a public health professor at Boston College; another has worked at Harvard for 15 years. Could get used to this. Smart people abound.
 
13. Walden Pond is a real place and we can go there to swim and pet small animals.

14. The moving truck may actually arrive...tomorrow.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Oh Shit, We Have Two Days Til The Movers Come


Two days.

This pic looks still.

I do not feel still.

Snapped it in an anxious moment of thinking, "Ohmigod, I only have two days left in this house. And look at everything we need to do. And oh hi, this is real. I need a drink. Let's remember this bathroom. Don't forget all the good times in this bathroom."

Sinking in.

We have a babysitter for two hours this morning and I'm supposed to be packing upstairs for our four-month sublet. Figuring out which clothes and books and pots and pans we'll need from now til July.

NBD.

Snuggling up with my laptop instead after a wonderful week of constant movement and very little alone time. Feels like medicine to just be quiet and hiding in the closet. (Writer's medicine, that is.) Need to knock out an offer letter as soon as I throw this quick post up.



We flew to Boston a week ago. Stayed at a lovely hotel right by Berklee School of Music and spent several days feeling out neighborhoods, opening bank accounts, touring a preschool, and the like.

It was so great.

The sun came out. Several days in a row.

I didn't realize how much I missed the sun until it decided to come out and stay out. Go figure.  

(Love you, Portland, but the rain's got me all "enough, already.")

You know what else I found, and had missed?

Diversity. So much diversity.

Languages and races and countries of origin and you name it.

So excited about Boston's urban, academic, international vibe.

Universities everywhere you turn.

Public transport up the wazoo.

Ethnic food every day.

Yesss.



Discovered Somerville and Cambridge and Brookline and you name it. Went to four different libraries in four days. The Meyer Family Library Tour.

But, shit. Ever tried to buy a house in Boston?

It was humbling. An SF-level real-estate wake-up call.

Never expected to see so many tiny shitty peeling-paint homes going for upwards of $800k. Like, 900 sq ft shitty peeling-paint holes-in-the-wall no-yard no-parking going for $50k-over-asking tiny flats.

It's crazy. Literally unbelievable, sometimes.

We were all over the board, driving from downtown to Lexington to the 'burbs and back. Even the burbs are outrageous. Tiny overpriced homes with lead paint and no closets. Kind of bleak.

We were like: should we just move to the beach and drive in for work? Buy a glistening home right there in Marblehead and walk the ocean every morning and suck it up with the daily commute so we don't have to live in a glorified closet from 1835?

Thought about it.

But when all was said and done, we ended up realizing we want to land right where we started: Cambridge and thereabouts.

Yesterday, right before we headed to the airport, we toured a sweet flat just north of Harvard Divinity School (7 minutes!) and First Unitarian of Cambridge (6 minutes!) and Cambridge Public Library (7 minutes!) with a fab park up one block and a delicious vegetarian Indian restaurant down the street and reclaimed-wood hipster breakfast spot around the corner and so much more within walking distance.

Super stoked. Reminds me so much of where I lived on Nob Hill in SF. Tall, hundred-year-old buildings with classic style.

So we'll put in an offer today and release all attachment because, damn, there are a lot of well-heeled people bidding on houses out there. We have a temporary place in Somerville (to give us space to land and close on something permanent), and I'm so glad that's where we sort of accidentally ended up. Robb shared an article with me that called Somerville "the Brooklyn of Boston," and that was so much the feel we got.

I dig it. So we'll give it a shot.

Who knows.



Back to the present moment.

We're here in Portland for just a few more days.

Today we throw some shit in boxes and try to eat what's left in the fridge. Tomorrow we return the 57 library books stashed throughout the house. Wednesday the packers come. Thursday the movers load the truck. Friday we paint and clean. Saturday we fly to Boston, and stay.

Two more sleeps in this sweet house of ours, pulsing with so many memories of the last couple of years.

Feeling all the feels. Joy. Grief. Mostly, just trying to be right here in this just-right moment.

Last week was like a big vacation-adventure in a beautiful old-school Boston hotel.

This week: it gets real.

Here we go.

Oh hey, impermanence. Nice to see you again. Let me just carry you around in my pocket for the next few days. We're gonna get to know each other reallll well. 

Love to you from these final few days in Pacific Standard Time.

(Now, where was that box again?)

Friday, March 24, 2017

How Not To Raise A Little Sh*t



I wrote this new article for The Washington Post, partly in response to the cray-cray elite competitive sport that parenting has become.

"I see no need for personal chauffeurs, overpriced tutors or hardcore chess tournaments. As a child of the heartland, it’s important to me that my son realize that not everybody’s family flies a private plane or uses 'summers' as a verb."

But I still want to raise a kid who's not a little shit. So here are five things I do every day to be an okay parent, without getting caught up in the curated-childhood craze.


Monday, March 13, 2017

Two Classes Left In Portland


Back in Portland, with two classes left before I go. See you tonight and Weds at YoYoYogi. 🌷

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Spring Newsletter


Just sent out my first newsletter in nine months. (Been a little distracted by politics and presidents and apocalypses, yo.) You can read it here, or click on the upper-left corner to subscribe.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Surprise! We're Moving To Boston


Surprise! We’re moving to Boston.


(Holy shit.)


What’s the story? Simple, really.


Robb got an epic job in Cambridge. A once-in-a-lifetime job. The kind of job that will take us to Europe. The kind of job for which you pick up and move your family 3000 miles across the country to a place where it snows — a lot — and people have strange accents and root for the Red Sox and use “wicked” as an adjective.


I am so proud of him. He’s knocked this one outta the park. Grand Slam. Papa Bear in the HOUSE.


So here we go.


Life comes at you in unexpected ways.


Who’d have thought, 15 years since either of us lived within spitting distance of I-95 and or cursed (erm, traversed) the New Jersey Turnpike on a regular basis, we’d be moving back to the Eastern Seaboard?


I mean, weren’t we West Coast/Best Coast people for life?


Gah! Life.


If there’s one thing I’ve learned from yoga, Buddhism, meditation: it’s that everything changes. Impermanence, baby. You try to cling to what is, and you’ll always, ever, be sadly disappointed.


The timing makes total sense, actually.


I’d been flush with this feeling of happiness lately, the kind of “profound okayness” Tara Brach talks about, looking around at my life and appreciating its sweet balance of work and family and school for Duke and hiking and libraries and favorite brunch spots and music class with cousins and you name it. Feeling really settled, really pleased, quietly content with our lives here.


But as the vinyasa reminds us: the dance that is life just keeps flowing. Just when you hit a really sweet spot, things change.


Whether you’re thrilled or tortured in a particular pose (read: moment of life), it always passes. You hold that Revolved Triangle for 5 breaths and are relieved when it’s over and you can exhale into a Chaturanga. You lift up into that deep backbend for five breaths and thrum with the vitality that comes with opening up and creating so much fearless space, and ease back down into a bittersweet sadness when it’s over. You fold forward into that comfortable old friend Janu Sirsasana and feel like you could stay there forever, it’s so right and good and familiar and effortless.


But then it passes.


So here we are. The vinyasa has shifted. We held the pose, we breathed into it, we were in it all the way, to the best of our abilities, knowing it wouldn’t last forever, and now we turn to the next.


This is life.


This is yoga.


My final class here in Portland will be Weds. March 15th. We’ll put our house on the market and squeeze in a week of East Coast house-hunting after that. The last week of March, the movers will load the truck, we’ll ship our cars 3000 miles, and board a one-way flight to Boston.


ALL THE FEELS, team.


ALL THE FEELS.


So much excitement. I am uber-stoked to live just a few minutes from Harvard Divinity School. To attend nerdy theology lectures and take Duke to libraries and explore the corners and crevices of Boston itself. To visit Cape Cod and Walden Pond and take kayaks up to New Hampshire. To have Duke's grandfather on the same coast so we can see him more often. To live close to Bernie Country and reconnect with old friends up and down the East Coast. And Google tells me the closest Unitarian church is parked right there on Harvard Square itself. How cool is that?


Perhaps most thrilling? Having feisty progressive truth-teller Elizabeth Warren as our hometown Senator.


My Bronx-born baseball-player Yankee-fan husband is stoked to hit up games together at Fenway Park. (We’ll arrive just in time for Opening Day.) We’ll take the train into New York City to catch Broadway shows, to see our dear friend and mentor Dorothy, and to visit old friends in Brooklyn. We’ll ride Amtrak to Delaware to reconnect with old college friends and kick it at Rehoboth Beach.


All of which translates to: JOY.


So much joy.


But on the flipside: Sadness. Grief. Of course, right? Nothing in life is ever black-and-white. Only so many varying shades of grey.


We imagined we’d live here in Portland for a good long time. Far beyond anything else, having to leave my sister, my brother-in-law, and our two nieces, whom we joined here in Oregon at the same time, is the ultimate in heartbreak. There’s no papering over that disappointment, that sense of loss. It has been the joy of my life watching our kids play together, laugh together, sing together, celebrate holidays together. It has been a revelation and a grace to have my sister and brother-in-law here to share meals and stories and snow chains. And I know we will ache for their absence for a long, long time. My heart is heavy even writing that.


Not to mention YoYoYogi. My marvelous YoYos: thank you for welcoming me into your home. Even though my chaturanga-filled California-style vinyasa may have felt different at first. ;) You made our family yours and I will be ever grateful for the sweaty breaths we shared. Students and colleagues, please join me for my last few classes before I say goodbye on the 15th.


Professionally, I’ll be postponing a few events we had planned for this spring and summer, given all the house-buying and stuff-moving and job-starting and school-finding action going on for the next few months.


But hear me out, West Coast: you’ll always be my first true love, and you won’t be able to shake me.


Stay tuned for a rescheduled Point Reyes yoga/hiking retreat sometime this fall, a special yoga class benefit for The Anata Project in SF, and maybe a few Oakland philosophy workshops, too. Details to come once we unpack our Vitamix and find the box with our toothbrushes and figure out how to get Duke to go to bed three hours earlier than he’s used to.


(Pacific Standard Time, I’m gonna miss you.)


Finally: I don’t know a goddamned thing about Boston, so those of you with history and/or family and/or experience there, please feel free to pour out your knowledge upon us. We’ll be leaning on you as we fumble our way through new accents, new neighborhoods, and new transit systems.


(Hang tight, Senator Warren. We’re on our way.)


Love to you. Love to this life. Love to the unexpected adventures it brings.


I am grateful you are along for the ride.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

This Is 38.

Today I turned 38.

(Hellz yeah! I get another year in this bag of bones!)

In honor of getting old, last week I snapped a few quick asana photos with the stellar Liz Bottrell of Liz Bottrell Photography. Here are a few sneak peek initial proofs.

Three cheers for being alive.














Monday, February 13, 2017

9 Yoga & Mindfulness Podcasts That Will Feed Your Soul


New article out today. Check out these smart, thoughtful yoga & mindfulness podcasts.

Back in the day you used to have to travel for hours or days to learn from many of the world’s most studied experts. Nowadays all you have to do is turn on your phone. It’s pretty righteous.

Thanks to Yoga Trade for publishing.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Hillary's Toughest Yoga Pose

Street art by Pegasus


I wrote this new piece for YogaDork. It's been on my mind since the moment I saw Hillary step out of her town car to attend the inauguration. No matter who you voted for, holy shit: you've gotta admit what a gut-wrenching, shattering experience it must've been for any human being with a heart to have to sit up on that stage watching her opponent being inaugurated. Thanks to YogaDork for being brave enough to publish political schtuff. And thanks to Hillary Clinton for teaching me yoga. Because politics is yoga is life. 💕💪💋🙏
 
 
* * *

There's a long-running yoga teacher cliche that goes something like this: "The hardest yoga pose is savasana."

I beg to differ.

The hardest yoga pose is Hillary Clinton sitting silently onstage while her former opponent (a man whom she beat by 3 million votes in the popular vote and who was possibly/probably elected via illegitimate Russian means) is inaugurated as President of the United States.

I mean, can you imagine?

I stood in my kitchen Friday morning and scanned Twitter for inauguration updates. Slate tweeted a video of the Clintons stepping out of their town car and preparing to walk into the ceremony, Hillary clad in peaceful winter white. That's when it really hit me: My God, this poor human has the hardest job in the world today. She's gotta stride in and smile gracefully and sit on that platform with all the other former Presidents and their wives and pretend that she's not totally, wretchedly miserable. 


No matter where you stand on the election, you've gotta have sympathy for the agony of that experience for any human being.

What pure torture to walk onto that stage and know the world's eyes are upon you, just waiting for you to betray a glimpse of pain, and to have to stay calm and pleasant when your insides are screaming bloody murder.

This is also known as: yoga.

We walk into the yoga studio knowing, every single time, that at some point in the practice we'll feel uncomfortable, awkward, frustrated, inadequate, angry. It comes with the territory. You hold a pose long enough, all your unresolved issues flare up. But you unroll the mat and stay, taking a deep breath, knowing it's just a matter of time til everything complicated and ugly burbles to the surface and your mind screams, "Just give up and run outta here already!" But, no. Your job is to sit with the discomfort, watching it, noticing it, resisting the urge to run away or give up, and using the breath to remain tenderly with the pain until it passes.
 

It's a practice of choosing how to react; of learning to watch the mind and not get caught up in it, realizing it's not you; realizing you don't have to get swept away in all your big feelings.

Which is EXACTLY what Hillary had to do last Friday. 

Over the course of the campaign, much was made of her steely demeanor and untouchable poise, deliberately cultivated after years of living in the critical public eye. But this? This was a new high. A masterful performance. The ultimate yoga practice.

Hillary could've chosen differently. She could've — very understandably — bailed on attending the Inauguration. She could've bawled her eyes out mid-ceremony and run off the platform. (Which would, of course, have wrought a media shitstorm.) But to sit there onstage, listening, witnessing, the whole world watching, cameras trained on her face waiting for the slightest hint of a reaction, knowing she's no doubt deeply in pain, and to manage to remain graceful and equanimous?

That, my friends, is yoga.


That is Buddha-level mastery.

(Okay, yes: maybe it was Xanax, too.) 


She may not be the Commander In Chief. But she's the yogi-in-chief, for sure. 

Hillary: thanks for teaching me yoga. I am grateful. I hope you downed a cocktail the size of your head when that shit was finally over.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

King Pigeon Posture Clinic


Super stoked to be leading this King Pigeon posture clinic next month at YoYoYogi. Join us on Feb 12th as we break down this much-loved/loathed pose. We'll flirt with a few cousin poses like Natarajasana (Dancer's Pose), too.

Register here.

Monday, January 23, 2017

How To Survive Snow Days As An Introvert Parent


New article out today! I wrote this for introverted parents everywhere who die a little inside when school is cancelled. :) Thanks to The Huffington Post for publishing.



Thursday, January 19, 2017

10 Ways To Make Friends With Your Body During A Hot Yoga Class


Thanks to The Huffington Post for picking up my recent article about 10 ways to make friends with your body during a hot yoga class. You can read the full piece here.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Easy As F*#k Comfort Foods That Won't Leave You Feeling Like Sh*t The Next Day


Oh hey.

Here we are, January. Four days in. Have you blown your resolutions yet?

I know lots of folks aspire to "eat healthy" in the New Year. That's often easier said than done, right?

I've been meaning for awhile now to throw up some of the favorite easy (vegan & gluten-free) comfort foods that have been rocking my world for the last few months. These recipes are perfect for the lazy non-cook (speaking from experience). They're not fancy and they're definitely not gonna show up in some famous foodie blog (way too many shameless short-cuts involved here).

But most importantly, two things: 1) they're fucking DELISH, and 2) they're vegan and gluten-free.

Going gluten-free back in 2009 was pretty easy, because I immediately felt so much better that it wasn't worth the occasional tempting bagel. But I struggled for a decade to go full-on vegan and stick with it, in spite of being totally ethically and philosophically on-board, mostly because cheese and ice cream are SO DAMN DELICIOUS. Even though my mind knew I'd feel waaaaay better and be waaaaay kinder to the planet/my body without them, I couldn't resist the siren call of melty mac 'n cheese or chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It took getting pregnant to really inspire me to go cold turkey.

(Seriously, folks. Shaking those drugs was like kicking heroin.)

What I learned is that the key to turning the vegan corner and never looking back is finding good comfort food substitutes that didn't make me feel like I'd be living the rest of my life deprived. It was no longer a matter of forever relinquishing melty goodness; it was just a matter of finding or creating versions of favorite foods that didn't leave me feeling like shit the next day.

And people, the great news is: it's totally possible! I've done it, and I'm a terrible cook!

So here's the first in what will become a semi-regular series, otherwise elegantly, succinctly known as

Easy As F*#k (Vegan + GF) Comfort Foods That Won't Leave You Feeling Like Shit The Next Day

For our first installment, you get:
 
Photo via Detoxinista
Homemade Vegan Mac 'N Cheese

I found this recipe on Detoxinista after trying out a few others from all over the place.

OMG, people: this one is so. friggin. easy. I really never thought it was possible to find an easy go-to homemade mac 'n cheese recipe. I mean, usually, what a pain in the butt, right? But this one you can get done in literally five minutes using only a Vitamix, and it's based on cashews, nutritional yeast, and a few spices. SOLD, bitch.

The first time we made it I already had some leftover naked noodles in the fridge, so I just warmed those up, added some quick broccoli and peas, and poured the cashew cheese sauce on top. Heaven. You can also add frozen chopped spinach or cauliflower, too. It's good however you do it.

All you have to do to make this recipe gluten-free is to use brown rice or quinoa-based noodles. My new favorite trick is to use the organic black bean spiral pasta at Trader Joe's, so my kid gets a ton of protein while thinking he's just scarfing down delicious mac 'n cheese. We even tried long spaghetti noodles last time, and those worked well, too. The original Detoxinista recipe calls for baking it, but we usually don't even bother with that, and just dive in.

This one's a big hit with both guys in my household. We make it at least once a week, and will be making it for years. Highly recommend introducing it to your rotation of regular hits.


Photo by Bowl of Delicious

Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream

Ok, so this is another easy vegan substitute that will make you forget Ben and Jerry's ever existed. My little guy is two and he loves to help me make this. And I love the fact that he can eat "ice cream" without getting his insides glued-up by all that antibiotic-laced cow's milk junk that's really only meant for baby cows to eat.

I'm a firm believer in the whole "just throw shit in" approach to cooking, so apologies in advance for a not-very-specific recipe here. You really can't mess this one up. If you want more of an official recipe, check out this example over at Bowl of Delicious. But even that one is fancier than we usually go for.

Yesterday, for example, we just threw these ingredients in the Vitamix and voila!
Two fresh bananas
A couple tablespoons of baking cocoa powder
Hemp seeds
Chia seeds
Vegan protein powder (see how I'm sneaking in a ton of protein and my kid doesn't even realize it?)
A big scoop of almond, sunflower, or peanut butter
A strong pour of coconut or almond milk
Ice cubes
You're smart, you can figure out proportions. Experimenting with it is part of the fun. I like to add some coconut shavings, or peppermint extract, or frozen cherries, to play with different flavors. And if you REALLY want to re-create your beloved chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, buy a few Cookie Dough flavor Lara Bars, chop them up, and throw them in. Perfection.

We used this recipe to make sweet-ass chocolate robot popsicles the other day, too. Fill up your popsicle molds and you can enjoy chocolate treats that won't send your kids' blood sugar through the roof.



Ok, friends. That's your comfort food dose for today.

Look forward to a belly-friendly twist on your favorite Italian classic and killer pumpkin protein balls to come.

In the meantime, start noshing. And don't be surprised to find mac 'n cheese on the menu next time you roll over for dinner.

Food is medicine, yo. Hit it.