If you’ve been practicing Qigong regularly and suddenly find yourself craving calcium-rich foods or drinks, you might be wondering: Is there a connection?

When you learn to trust your gut, you stop outsourcing your truth. You no longer need to consult ten people or seek constant reassurance. Your body, your inner compass, already knows. It speaks not in loud declarations, but in subtle signals: a sense of ease, a quiet pull, or even a sudden stillness that says, “This is right.”

We don’t need fixing—and we don’t need to be “healed” in the way we’ve been conditioned to think.

What we need is awareness.
We need mindfulness.
We need to expand our consciousness—not to escape who we are, but to finally meet ourselves with clarity and compassion.

In the teachings of Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh, there's a simple yet profound truth: “Words can travel thousands of miles. May my words create mutual understanding and love.”

What that experience taught me—and what I saw mirrored in the Kardashians’ stories—is that our harshest judgments often stem from within. We tend to criticize in others what we haven’t yet come to terms with in ourselves. And when I watched them navigate their own challenges—balancing motherhood, relationships, business, and self-identity—I saw them wrestling not only with public perception, but with their own inner narratives.

In my lifetime I have heard this over and over again, “You’ll be lonely if you don’t have kids,” or “Isn’t it hard being without a partner?” But what they don’t understand is that loneliness isn’t about who is or isn’t around you. I’ve felt more alone in a crowded room or even with a beloved pet than I have in the quiet of my own heart. When we had a dog, I loved her deeply, but I was also constantly overwhelmed—so busy and scattered that I couldn’t connect with myself. After she passed, I grieved, but I also returned to myself. I was able to listen inward again. I think of her often, and always with love. Some memories are tinged with sadness, but mostly they’re sweet reminders of love shared, not love lost.

We live in a culture that constantly tells us we need to improve, optimize, heal, hustle, or somehow become better than we are. There are endless books, podcasts, therapies, supplements, and programs designed to “fix” what’s wrong with us—our bodies, our minds, our emotions, our lives.

But what if nothing is wrong?

What if there is nothing to fix?

What if the path to peace, healing, and wholeness isn’t about doing more or changing who we are—but about learning how to be fully present with what is?

In a world of fast food, multitasking, and constant distraction, eating has often become just another task to check off the list. We eat while scrolling, driving, or standing at the counter—rarely pausing to notice, much less appreciate, the food in front of us.

But around the world, and across cultures and centuries, people have long understood that giving thanks to food is more than polite—it’s powerful. It reconnects us with ourselves, with nature, and with the deeper meaning behind nourishment. And in today’s rushed society, reviving this simple ritual might be one of the most radical and healing things we can do.

In the early 20th century, amid the chaos and sacrifice of World War I, a quieter, everyday form of patriotism took root in kitchens, gardens, and communities across the United States and Europe: food conservation. It was a powerful movement driven not by scarcity alone, but by solidarity, purpose, and resourcefulness.

Today, as we face modern crises—from climate change and economic instability to global food insecurity—the practices and principles of wartime food conservation offer a blueprint for how we might live more mindfully, sustainably, and collectively.

Empaths are deeply feeling individuals. They absorb the emotions, energies, and sometimes even the unspoken pain of those around them. While this sensitivity can be a powerful gift—enabling profound compassion, insight, and presence—it also comes with unique challenges. Empaths navigate the world in a heightened state of awareness, and without the right support or boundaries, this can easily lead to burnout, emotional overwhelm, or disconnection from the self.

One suggestion our teacher shared was the importance of helping someone build a connection with their meals. That could be something as simple as setting the table nicely, maybe adding flowers, and creating an environment that brings joy to the eating experience.

As empaths, we often feel guilty for speaking our truth—worried we’ve hurt someone or overreacted. We tend to second-guess our feelings, especially if we’re around certain personalities. Even if someone hasn’t treated us well, we look for the good in them. We tell ourselves, “Well, they’ve done nice things,” and dismiss our deeper feelings.

Dr. Cowan’s approach to food goes beyond just focusing on whether it’s organic or not. He brings attention to the fundamental importance of soil health, biodiversity, and the way food interacts with our bodies on a deeper level. Here’s a closer look at Dr. Cowan’s perspective on organic food and how we can make better choices for our health and the environment.

In recent years, the demand for organic foods has grown as people become more health-conscious and environmentally aware. Organic produce is widely seen as a healthier choice, free from synthetic pesticides and fertilizers, and grown in soil that’s free from chemicals. However, not all organic foods are created equal, and the term "organic" on a label can sometimes be more complicated than we might think.

When we think about spirituality, many of us might picture incense, meditation, or even iconic symbols like the Buddha statue or a person adorned with beads. These images often lead us to associate spirituality with specific practices or traditions, but the truth is, spirituality is something that exists within all of us in unique and deeply personal ways. It doesn’t have to be tied to a particular religion, lifestyle, or ritual. Spirituality is simply our connection to something greater than ourselves—whether that’s the universe, nature, the collective human experience, or a higher power.

In today’s society, there’s a prevailing narrative that having children is the ultimate path to fulfillment. The idea that becoming a parent offers a unique sense of purpose, joy, and personal growth is deeply ingrained in many cultures. However, an often overlooked yet equally powerful form of fulfillment is found in the lives of childless individuals who are deeply embedded in supportive communities. The question arises: Is the fulfillment experienced by parents truly different from that of childless people who form meaningful connections in their communities? The answer might surprise you, as it points to a shared truth about human nature—fulfillment comes from the relationships and connections we build, not from a singular life path.

Chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo is a central practice in Nichiren Buddhism, and its profound effects extend far beyond the realm of religion. People who engage in this practice often report experiencing deep spiritual growth, emotional healing, and personal empowerment. Whether you are seeking inner peace, clarity of purpose, or a greater connection with the universe, chanting this powerful mantra can bring about positive transformation in your life.

In a world where the pursuit of financial success often prioritizes individual wealth accumulation, it’s refreshing to recognize that financial stability and a life dedicated to serving others can go hand in hand. For those of us who are committed to making a positive impact—whether through a career in nonprofit work, social enterprises, or service-oriented businesses—achieving financial stability isn’t just about accumulating wealth. It’s about creating a sustainable foundation that allows you to continue giving and supporting those in need while securing your own financial well-being.

In today’s world, financial stability and wellness are often seen as personal goals—something to strive for in order to live comfortably. However, for those who are in service to others, whether in leadership, social work, healthcare, or any other field where helping people is the primary focus, financial stability is not just a personal benefit. It becomes a cornerstone for being truly effective in your service and making a lasting impact.

In a world that feels increasingly isolated despite technological advancements, the need for authentic human connections has never been more important. Whether in a neighborhood, a workplace, or even within an online group, building a community creates an environment where individuals can thrive, support each other, and form genuine, lasting relationships. This article explores how fostering a community helps nurture these connections and why they are essential for our well-being.