Empowering Women is a talk show that discusses current women’s issues, concerns, interests and any topic that is intimate to a woman’s life. In Episode 1, Empowering Women interviewed Halé about balancing care for our children and families with nourishment of ourselves as women.
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Fall 2005/Winter 2006 — Climate and geography provide the foundation for the kinds of foods that can be grown in a particular area. In Freiburg, Germany, where my friend lives, cooler weather crops are in abundance now at the local markets: root vegetables, bitter greens and radishes. On Oahu and Maui and, where I have spent some time retreating, the juicy sweet fruits, leafy greens, bitter herbs, starchy roots, and plenty of fresh caught Pacific fish are all readily available at the local markets. Farmers in both Freiburg and the Hawaiian islands offer hardy market choices through all the seasons. In this way the land is nourished and protected, the farmers are sustained, and people are more connected to the process of feeding themselves with simplicity and grace.
No matter which climate you live in, pay attention to how many local foods you are consuming. Making an effort to simplify your choices, making seasonal adjustments and eliminating some of the foods that travel thousands of miles to your table will allow you to expand into a deeper awareness of who you are really feeding.
Fall 2005/Winter 2006 — Foods that are grown in the local climate where you live provide a powerful connection to how you nourish yourself. Whether you are in a cooler climate as in Freiburg, Germany or on a tropical island in Hawaii, locally grown foods are always the wisest choice.
Farmers markets on the islands of Maui and Oahu
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Farmers market in Freiburg, Germany
October 2005 — I have just returned from my travels in Istanbul and other parts of Turkey. Even with its hot climate, crowded conditions, and noisy markets, the abundance of local and regional food choices and the connectedness to the seasonal transitions support a deep inner balance.
My experience of the daily and seasonal rhythms in Turkey are always centered around the fresh foods and meals. The gracious and simple breakfasts with fresh goat and sheep cheeses, olives, yogurt, local fruits, and tea begin the day without the morning rush. The traditional glass of tea in the afternoon gently slows the pace of the day and allows one to reconnect with one’s inner rhythms. Visits to the local markets allow the shopper to choose the freshest and choicest vegetables, fruits, and fresh-caught fish of the day. Meals are prepared together and families slowly savor the tastes and the conversation well into the evening. I am struck by how everyone, everywhere, even the taxicab drivers with whom I often chatted, knew which foods were freshest in the market and exactly in which region of the country they were grown. This knowledge and connectedness with the local food is deeply rooted in Turkish culture and tradition. The reliance on the availability of seasonal local foods sustains a community connection to the harvesting process that, in turn, cultivates healthier food choices.
Here in New England, the autumn harvest is glorious in its beauty and richness of nature. But, autumn is also the transition time from the expansion of summer towards the retreating of winter. Just as the days get shorter and the nights longer, it is also a time of keeping the balance between the extensions in our lives and our inner awareness. The harvest season allows us enormous support for maintaining this connection and provides great stability. Foods found in farmers markets and grocery stores right now across the country are more local and fresh than at any other time of the year. These fresh local harvest foods allow us to gently transition from the heat of the summer towards the cooling months of autumn and winter. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, these foods support and nourish us in the present and prepare us for the next season of our lives. This simple connection to our external environment provides greater support to balance our internal environment as well.
Following the inspiration from people in Istanbul, I encourage you to bring the freshest local and regional foods from this autumn harvest to your table. During this autumn transition, connect to farmers at your local market, ask questions about where your food comes from when you are in the grocery store, and choose wisely to nourish yourself. In this harvest season, give your yourself permission to slow down and invite yourself, your family and friends to a simple and fresh harvest meal prepared with joy and gratitude.
When we allow ourselves to connect to the seasons, we learn that balance is not in the extremes but, in the awareness of subtleties of the transition.
My garden is one of my greatest teachers. At this point in the summer, it is lush and overgrown from all the rain we’ve had these last months. No matter how much weeding I do, the garden continues to have its own life — filling in, spreading, climbing higher, taking its full space.
Like most gardeners, I purchased extra plants at the beginning of the season to fill in here and there as my mood for various annuals and perennials changes over the years. Because we had such an extremely cold winter in the Northeast, I had to replenish more than the usual amount of perennials. I dug most of them into their new locations, except for the few I never got to.
One of the plants I’ve taken real pleasure in this summer is Echinacea. As most of you know, this plant has very healing properties. I also love its papery purple and white flowers. I planted the Echinaceas in generous areas of the garden so they could grow and expand, except for one lone white Echinacea that never made it into the garden, and has stayed in its small pot on the patio.
The timing of how each species of plant goes into flower or fruit is always miraculous to me. Sipping tea in my garden one morning, the white Echinacea caught my attention. I noticed how stunted the plant looked in the pot: even though it flowered, the heads were small and the stems were thin. By contrast, the ones planted in the garden with plenty of space and fertile compost have thrived and are now abundant with flowers.
The white Echinacea reminded me of a question I have been paying attention to most of my life: How do we feed and give space to allow our greatest flowering potential? We can live in small, contained pots or transplant ourselves to a more spacious area where we can be nourished more deeply and flower more vibrantly.