Simple Raw and Natural

 December 2, 2025 My 2026 Maison Tranquille Reading Year A Year of Nourishment, Curiosity, and Quiet Transformation There is a special kind of magic in choosing a year of books before it begins. It feels like laying out teacups for a year of conversations — one for each season, each question, and each inner landscape. I’ve curated my reading year from December 2025 through December 2026 with two intentions: ✨ Pleasure and Beauty — stories that stir the imagination, evoke Europe’s quiet charm, and remind me that interior lives matter. ✨ Learning and Becoming — books that deepen presence, civic compassion, writing voice, and the art of living. This isn’t a race or challenge — it’s a gentle rhythm. One or two books a month, savored slowly , across Audible, Kindle, and paper. If you want to read along, here is what’s on my Maison Tranquille shelf for 2026: 🌿 December 2025 — Grounding & Presence An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor The Art of Living by Th...

11/27/2025 Main Character Energy… in a House Full of Main Characters There’s something beautiful about spending a week at the beach with a house full of family. It’s never quiet, never predictable, and never just one storyline. It’s more like an overlapping collage of happenings. And yet, in the middle of all of this, there is another version of main character energy, one that doesn’t compete with anyone else’s story. This isn’t the loud, front-and-center kind of main character energy. It’s not about being the center of attention or the person with the most star power. It’s the kind that acknowledges: I get to have my own experience here. I get to tend my own spirit. I get to enjoy this week in a way that nourishes my body, my mind, and my soul. All without stepping on anyone else’s toes. Because everyone here is the main character in their own movie. And honestly, that’s what makes it beautiful. There are all the characters, the storytellers, the planners, the cooks, the ones who ...

  November 20, 2025 Healing the Ordinary Beauty is woven into the things we often overlook - nourishment, rest, small habits, and all of your simple daily rituals. They aren’t sparkly or applause-worthy, yet they hold our lives together. In a world that rewards urgency and spectacle, these ordinary acts feel almost subversive. Healing rarely arrives in dramatic breakthroughs. It grows slowly, in the choices we make again and again. This morning, while reading An Altar in the World , I was reminded that the sacred isn’t hiding somewhere distant or unreachable. It’s right here in the sweeping of the kitchen floor, the soft light entering the room, a warm bowl of soup, the way we help one another without fanfare. The book invites us to look at our everyday lives and see them as altars.  I’m think that this is where real transformation actually happens. Healing doesn’t require that we change everything.  We just need to pay attention. When I chop vegetables, make my smooth...

  November 9, 2025 The Taste of Steadiness There’s a kind of quiet alchemy that happens in the kitchen where the feminine works her magic, bringing healing and even a bit of justice with her spoon.  It’s how she stirs, not just the soup, but the energy of the house. Healing food isn’t only about what’s raw or pure or green.  It’s also about what’s warm, soft, and cooked.  The raw heals through clarity with the burst of lemon, the crunch of cabbage, the pulse of life untamed by fire.  The cooked heals through comfort, the slow stew that is grounding after you’ve been in your head for too long.  Roasted root vegetables remind us to stay here and stay steady. Both have their purpose.  The raw awakens, the cooked restores. When I eat healing food, I feel both of those voices working together.  The wild and the patient.  They remind me that steadiness has many forms.  It might taste like lentils with garlic, or a baked pear that melts against...

  November 9, 2025 Healing Food as Metaphor Healing food is more than nutrition.  It’s a language of restoration.  When we choose healing foods, we’re saying yes to life again, to renewal after depletion. Think of ingredients as symbols of some inner need: Broth speaks of gentleness and the infusion of strength through patience and warmth. Greens remind us of forgiveness by turning sunlight into nourishment. Beans represent endurance and humility - small, plain, and sustaining. Lemon and salt show us that sharpness and contrast are necessary for balance. Bread is the ancient metaphor for connection.  When it is broken and shared, it represents trust. To prepare and eat healing food acknowledges that we are both fragile and resilient.  The body is connected to the soul.  The kitchen becomes a sanctuary for the healing of wounds while the soup simmers on the stove and love and care transform it into flavor. Still Curious. Still Growing, Still Grateful. by Jan...

 November 5, 2025 The Myth of Doing It Alone We often hear stories about the great minds of history: the inventors, artists, philosophers, and writers who seemed to move the world forward by the power of their genius. But the truth, when you look a little closer, is that no one ever did it alone. Behind every “self-made” success, there were quiet conversations, secretaries who typed pages of notes, editors who coaxed rough thoughts into clarity, and wives or friends who believed when no one else did. Greatness has always been a form of collaboration, a shared space where one person’s vision meets another’s support. That’s how I see artificial intelligence today. Some say it will make us lazy or dependent, but I don’t believe that. I think it is simply the modern version of a long tradition: a thinking partner, a listener, and a way to explore ideas more deeply. It does not replace creativity; it expands it. The spark still comes from within us—the curiosity, the values, the...