Hello, my friend!
This Sunday morning, it's a bit gray here as we wait for a nor'easter that may or may not show. But certainly we're entering the season of coziness–and you know what that means: it's soup time! This is my culinary sweet spot.
As I stand in my kitchen, stirring a pot of nourishing chicken soup, I find myself reflecting on a deeper question that's been on my mind this week: What does the soul want? Not the ego with its endless shopping lists, but the soul–that wise, quiet voice within.
Today, I'm sharing some intimate reflections on soul connection, a recipe that feeds more than just your body, and a poem that's been carrying me through these autumn days.
👇 In today's email:
- This week's inspiration: What Does the Soul Want
- Latest blog post: Nourishing Chicken Vegetable Soup: A Doctor's Comfort Food Recipe
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What I'm Reading: Beannacht / Blessing by John O'Donohue
What Does the Soul Want
This is a question I asked my husband, and also myself several times this week.
It's different than "what do I want" because the ego, like an overactive second grader forced to behave all day in school, jumps up out of her seat with a litany of requests pertaining to the here and now and the material. (Hello tasseled cream-colored Brunello Cucinelli loafers I see you, okay back in your seat)
The soul has that joy but is more wise and measured, more Gandalf.
My soul wants connection—to a higher power, to people, to nature, to myself. That's it. Simple.
Connection to a Higher Power
John O'Donohue, a favorite poet, says for most people the God question is dead. That said, my soul wants a beaming connection to whatever's out there, even if it does not actually intervene on a personal level—I can live with that.
Connection to People
Heartfelt connection with clients, friends, and family fills my soul with purpose and satiety. Substance and meaning are essential. Otherwise I am not interested.
Connection to Nature
Yesterday I felt that solace at the Berkshire Botanical Garden in the supportive embrace of a 75-year-old Weeping Hemlock. I rested my head and it removed anxiety in my chest. Thank you, tree.
Connection to Self
Lastly, connection with self.
I tell clients to speak to themselves in the voice of the person who loves them the most.
That said, most of us speak to ourselves in the voice of the person who has said (or implied) "you're not good enough." And that is carried with us, integrated on a cellular level.
What if the kindest voice you hear is actually you? You are both child and mother at the same time. The sweetest, most caring connection with your being is compassion you shine on yourself.
My soul wants that, and all these things.
I ask you to wonder: what does your soul want? Are you moving in that direction, even if it is out of the norm? Will it bring you to a place of more fulfillment?
Nourishing Chicken Vegetable Soup: A Doctor's Comfort Food Recipe
There are many things I cannot cook, but soup? Soup is my jam.
In my latest blog post, I'm sharing one of my go-to recipes for those days when you need nourishment that goes deeper than just filling your belly. This chicken vegetable soup is what I make when I need comfort, when I'm fighting off a cold, or when I simply want to feel cared for.
From a Chinese medicine perspective, soup is one of the most healing foods we can consume. It's warm, easily digestible, and the slow cooking process extracts nutrients in a way that makes them incredibly bioavailable to your body.
This recipe is forgiving, adaptable, and deeply satisfying. It's the kind of dish that feeds your body and your soul—which feels especially fitting for this week's theme.
Beannacht / Blessing by John O'Donohue
Sticking with our super cozy vibe this morning and rounding it out, I want to share a favorite John O'Donohue poem. I particularly love the second to last stanza. ❤️
For Josie, my mother
On the day when the weight deadens
on your shoulders and you stumble,
may the clay dance to balance you.
And when your eyes freeze behind
the grey window and the ghost of loss
gets into you, may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green and azure blue,
come to awaken in you a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak to mind your life.
— John O'Donohue
from Echoes of Memory
This poem feels like medicine for these autumn days. O'Donohue had a gift for capturing the connection between soul, nature, and the quiet blessings we need when life feels heavy. His words remind us that we are held, supported, and never truly alone.
I'm cheering for you,
Dr. Catherine