It was Sunday morning and I was up before 6:00 to prepare breakfast for my son before his last hockey camp practice. My mind pulsed with organizational details – get myself caffeinated, the kids fed, our things packed up and be on the road on time. My body reverberated after two days of city life, concrete and chaos – driving back and forth to the hockey rink a whopping 8 times while in Boise, visiting box stores and grocery stores, navigating traffic and timetables. My emotions drained after recurring arguments with my kids, begging me to take them to In-N-Out Burger, knowing I would not. We had to escape the temptations of the city.

When I entered graduate school, I had a vision of helping people heal using natural, whole foods. Over the past decade while practicing nutrition, I’ve learned that sometimes supplements are necessary, yet we cannot overlook the benefits of certain healing foods. Michael Pollen attempted to simplify human consumption for wellbeing: “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants.” I agree, and would clarify further from a nutritionist, locavore and Earth-mama perspective: “Eat whole, uncontaminated foods raised close to home – and ferments.”

The Sage School’s 10th and 11th grade students, known as the “Raven Band”, are studying American Food Systems. The year-long project will culminate with a community feast organized and designed by the students based on what they’ve learned from conventional and small farming. They are just beginning to build their menu, offering local foods available in spring from farms they visited last fall – plus the sauerkraut we made in class on Monday. 

To begin, I asked the students what they believe is working well within America’s food system. There was a lull.

Last week, a few girlfriends and I packed up our skis and poles, snowshoes and backpacks, suits and towels, food and beverages, oracle cards and a flowery tablecloth and drove north. A few miles from civilization, we passed through a vortex, where rain turned to snow, the narrow valley stretched into a wider expanse and cell service ceased. We placed our phones in the side doors of the car, dialed into some sweet folk music, and settled into our breath, bodies and the view of freshly dusted Boulder White Cloud mountains. Our overnighter to celebrate my birthday was more than just a mini getaway – we needed to disconnect.

I’ve always been told I have “fiery” energy – and not always in a positive light. I’ve been riddled and shamed for my passionate expressions and also thanked for wearing my heart on my sleeve. Last week we said goodbye to the Chinese Year of the Wood Snake and hello to the Year of the Fire Horse. What does that mean? Why should we care? And how does that relate to wellbeing? In short, everything is regulated by the cosmos – all that exists in the orderly universe, from space and time, matter and energy and, therefore, the nature of all things. It’s wise to pay attention and, when we do, we have one more tool for making informed choices.

Last Wednesday evening I walked solo into the Basque Cultural Center in Boise to meet people like me, who support and advocate for small farms, artisan foods and beverage makers and independent producers in Idaho’s food system. Donning my second-hand outfit from various Idaho festivals – snakeskin cowboy boots, a patchwork dress and a cropped jean jacket – I wondered who I’d encounter and whether I’d fit in. In some ways, I did – I’m an Idahoan with reverence for our state’s “heritage, history, and tradition(s),” in alignment with FARE’s mission. In other ways, I was a real food idealist.

In my clinical practice and life experiences, I’ve found one thing to be true: the Standard American Diet (SAD) is a destructive industry of excess, convenience and apathy. It’s at the root of chronic diseases, and our medical professionals work hard to diagnose and prescribe medications for diseases that are preventable with a different diet – a more natural diet. If you’re thinking we need a different lifestyle, too, you’re right. Consuming foods we were designed to eat will, inevitably, change a person’s lifestyle.

What is the Standard American Diet (SAD), anyway? Simply look around at food options that are “standard” across our country, advertising our culture of distractions, accessibility, affordability and prioritizing business over wellbeing.

A couple of weeks ago, a man I don’t know told me my food comments showed my privilege. He dissected one Facebook video, my off-the-cuff clip which, on that particular day, described my simple lunch made of organic greens, leftover roasted beets, canned mackerel, walnuts, feta and a homemade dressing. He chided that even organic food contains pesticides (often true) which are more carcinogenic than conventional pesticides (yet provided no evidence). I was annoyed, taken aback, felt misjudged. I wanted to be angry, but one of the gifts of social media is that I don’t have to re-engage. So, I didn’t.

Over the next few days, I contemplated the perspective of this human from who-knows-where.

It’s hard to talk about clean food, optimal nutrients, modern American farming practices or discussions about the updated Dietary Guidelines for Americans (DGAs) when what’s really on my mind is this messy life. Between washing stinky hockey gear and shuttling kids to the only kind of ICE combat I support, I catch glimpses on social media of people dying, suffering, protesting, rallying.

For years I’ve watched friends, colleagues and community members speak up about world events, advocate for human rights and publicly uphold their values. Their efforts have sent supplies to Gaza, amended national health policies and rallied people around local change. But I grew cautious about my voice, having been ostracized, judged and shamed for speaking my truth and questioning the norm. Weary, I disconnected from most political conversations and stopped reading the news. These decisions calmed my nervous system, allowing me to exert my energy toward a different kind of revolution, something softer and useful: inspiring people to cultivate food consciousness.

Last week, the US Department of Health and Human Services in collaboration with the Department of Agriculture released the updated food pyramid, a visual representation of the Dietary Guidelines for Americans for 2025-2030. It’s an inverted pyramid, seemingly resembling a slice of pizza or pie. Yet the image contains no ultra-processed, convenience or fast foods – only whole foods and a few minimally processed foods like olive oil and yogurt. The message at the top reads: Eat Real Food.

To me, this is a breath of fresh air! Finally, it makes sense from a functional nutrition – and human evolution – perspective. When I shared my hope for the future of our country’s health on a Facebook post showing this image with a description of the guidelines, I received judgmental, accusatory feedback.

On the last day of 2025, the manager at my bank said, “I have to ask the all-important question: What’s your New Year’s resolution?” I was caught off guard – I haven’t made a resolution in years. Resolutions have never worked for me, and I’ve spent ample effort understanding why. I try not to get caught up in the tradition of resolution and, instead, consider January a time to review, reflect, and revise. By the Chinese New Year, I’m working on a plan with resources to help me execute it.

January seems like the most inopportune time to start something new! To make a declaration in the aftermath of the holiday spirit high is setting ourselves up for failure. Often, in our revelry, we decide to change of fix about our lives, yet by a few weeks into the month we have no clear path forward. Our willpower has faded. We lack discipline. We disappoint ourselves. 

I’m one of those people who overcommits to certain things and half-ass commits to others. The patterns are overcommitment to working and to other people’s needs/wants and finding excuses for erratic behaviors that could (if committed) improve myself in personal development, athletic goals, financial planning, career goals, and the like. I have become very committed to my health and wellbeing, a feat that has taken years, if not decades, by forming new habits that help me feel good. It’s time again to reevaluate and recommit.

Last week, while writing about reducing sugar intake, simultaneously I was preparing for the annual cookie party I host with my dear friend, a dietitian and fellow kitchen extraordinaire. I love cookies, sure, yet eating cookies is not why I love the cookie party. Besides an excuse to gather and celebrate the season with friends, it’s an opportunity to remain committed to one my favorite holiday traditions: making buckeyes. Buckeyes aren’t really cookies, as they’re not baked, but making them for the party has become a favorite holiday tradition.

Do you know that the average American eats 100 pounds of sugar each year? (1). When we wonder why our metabolism is off, blood sugar is whacky, we can’t lose weight and we’re suffering from an obesity epidemic, could sugar be the culprit? Just like in last week’s article with inspiration for drinking less alcohol (more sugars!), I cannot emphasize enough the importance of simply eating less sugar. Considering sugar, like alcohol, is addictive, we need a plan – not just willpower – to overcome infinite, pervasive longings for sweets.

It’s not surprising that alcohol consumption increased dramatically in 2020 and the next few years thanks, in part, to the global pandemic (1). Working from home, stress coupled with fear, the convenience of having alcohol nearby (all the time) were just some of the factors contributing to more drinking (2). For people over 40 suffering from mood disorders, alcohol consumption was even more pronounced (2). As the mental health crisis rose to mainstream conversation, views about alcohol and behaviors began shifting.  

While I love Thanksgiving week and its invitation to slow down, what follows for me is a period of shame, fear and frustration: Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday. These days become dismal with lack, comparison and desire. My financial status and related compromises tell the tale of a single mama running a small business while struggling to make ends meet, give her children more, and live fully when her pocketbook is sparse.  

Even while on vacay, I’m a working single mom. Whether it’s a big travel day or a rest day, I plan all logistics – lodging, directions, trains, tickets, rental cars, gas, communication, activities, excursions, laundry, tours, plus meetings with chefs, farmers, proprietors. I check emails, meet virtually with clients, write articles, plan programs, create social media posts.  

I also plan all the meals, hydration and supplements for pleasure, focus, sleep, motion sickness and “what if” scenarios because: 1.) nutrients matter; 2.) food is harder to procure while traveling; 3.) good nourishment can make the difference between enjoying a cultural experience or watching it crumble.

I’m writing from the train between Milano and Firenze in Italy. It’s the second summer I brought my two kids here, exploring for purposes beyond simply traveling, exposure to new cultures or instilling in a sense of self-sufficiency, curiosity and vigilance. We are here for more than reuniting with my ancestry, though that’s certainly one reason I’m drawn to Italy.

And the food – simply, it makes traveling easier knowing I can be well nourished. Yet not all food in Italy is good for us, as we may naïvely believe.

My son became a teenager this week! In addition to considering his life experiences and how I love being his mama, I reflect on a baker’s dozen years of feeding him (and his sister) healthy food to nourish his rapid growth. I’ve prepared thousands of intentional meals made primarily with whole foods, typically eaten at home and, sometimes, at co-ops, health food stores and from-scratch cafes. I recall dozens eye rolls for saying “no” to Standard American Food, criticisms for fixed food values, and exclusions from events due to my choices. I’ve also receive ample “thank you”s.