Maison Tranquille

I’ve been watching Astrid et Raphaëlle, a French crime series, and I can’t stop thinking about something that keeps happening while I watch. One of the leads, Astrid, is autistic. She has these particular movements, hand gestures, a kind of rocking, small repetitive motions she doesn’t bother to hide. And I’ve noticed that sometimes, without meaning to, I find myself mirroring her. And it feels… good? Settling, somehow. Which made me curious. Why? Turns out our nervous systems don’t really care whether we’re autistic or not. They still crave rhythm, repetition, and something to hold onto. Rocking a baby. Knitting. Walking the same path. Making potholders, honestly. These things work because they work, not because we’ve been given permission to need them. There’s also something about the way Astrid moves through the world without apology. She doesn’t mask. She doesn’t hold herself tightly for other people’s comfort. Watching her is like being handed a small permission slip: you don’t ha...

I used to think belonging was something you found at the right level of life. Now I think it’s something you allow, wherever you are—if you can quiet the part of you that’s still arguing with the moment. At first glance, “I’m not good enough” and “I’m too good for this” seem like opposites. But psychologically, they often grow from the same soil—uncertainty about where you truly belong or how you measure up. Thinking you’re too good for something can act as a kind of emotional armor. Instead of sitting with the feeling that you don’t fit, the mind flips it: I’m above this. That feels safer. When you land somewhere that doesn’t match your internal sense of self, there are really only two moves. You collapse inward—I failed, I’m not good enough—or you protect outward—I don’t belong here, I’m too good for this. The second one keeps something intact. It holds your sense of identity and possibility while everything else feels uncertain. I know I’ve carried both voices. One that says I cou...

It started with a question I'd been asking for years: do cruciferous vegetables have to be eaten raw to be worth eating? I'd been adding more broccoli and cauliflower to my days because they're genuinely good for you — particularly for something called sulforaphane, a compound linked to meaningful health benefits. The problem is that cooking deactivates myrosinase, the enzyme that helps your body produce it. I'd read this, worried about it, and occasionally forced myself to eat raw broccoli I didn't enjoy. Then I learned that mustard contains its own myrosinase. A spoonful added after cooking can restore what the heat removed. That was the thing that quietly changed everything. Suddenly I wasn't trying to optimize. I was just making lunch. Frozen broccoli microwaved in the bag, a generous spoonful of mustard stirred in afterward, maybe some guacamole or flax oil alongside, beans or sardines for protein. That's it. And here's what I've come to apprec...