Hello, hello, and welcome back. This one is different. I want you to feel that from the start. We’ve been doing a lot of thinking together — about the anthropology of cacao, about the etymology of culture, about colonization and language and identity and reclamation. And all of that matters. All of that is part of this series. But today, I want us to put the thinking down for a moment. I want us to *receive* instead. This episode is a journaling exercise—a nourishment practice. If you’re driving, if you’re at your desk, if you’re in a cubicle with people three feet away — do what you can. You don’t have to write anything down. You can just listen and let the words land and notice what comes up. There’s no interpretation required. There’s no right answer. This is just you, getting curious about yourself. One Question. Four Words. What are you nourishing? I want to sit with those four words for a minute before we go anywhere else, because each one is doing something. What — we’re specifying. We’re pointing at something particular. Or maybe multiple things. What asks us to name, to identify, to get honest about what’s actually there. Are — and I promised I wouldn’t get too deep into linguistics again, but bear with me — *are* is part of the verb *to be*. Being. Not doing. This isn’t about your to-do list or your output or your productivity. This is about your state of being. How are you living? How you are *embodying*. Being and doing are not the same thing, and I think a lot of us have spent a long time confusing them. You — which sounds obvious, but isn’t. Who is the you we’re talking about? How are you identifying yourself right now? How are you feeling *with* yourself? Are you someone who knows where they are, or have you drifted a little from your center? No judgment in the question. Just: Who is the you who is being asked? Nourishing — which is not the same as fueling. Not the same as pushing, extending, performing, or optimizing. Nourishing is tending. Nourishing is care. Nourishing is something you do slowly, with attention, with the understanding that what you put in determines what can grow. So: What are you nourishing? Try saying it to yourself with different emphasis each time. *What* are you nourishing? What *are* you nourishing? What are *you* nourishing? What are you *nourishing?* Notice where each version lands in your body. Notice what shifts. For me, when I land on that last word — *nourishing* — I get a small tingle in my chest—a kind of opening. Not everyone will have a physical response, and that’s completely fine. But just notice. Just observe. Let your body be part of this conversation. Words Are Spells There’s a quote I came across somewhere — I don’t remember exactly where — that says: *words are spells.* And I love that. Because literally, we have to *spell* words. And also because there’s something genuinely magical happening when we choose specific words to convey specific meanings. We’re getting clear. We’re casting something. We’re calling things into form that were previously just floating, undefined, and unnamed. The difference between *nourish* and *fuel* is not small. Fuel is transactional. You put it in, it gets used up, you need more. Fuel is about the machine. Nourishment is about the living thing. Nourishment is about the whole system — not just what keeps you going, but what helps you *grow*. So when I ask what you’re nourishing, I’m not asking what you’re powering through. I’m asking what you’re tending to. What you’re giving conditions for growth. What you’re caring for — inside yourself, in your relationships, in your work, in your daily life. The Oven You Don’t Want to Clean Here’s the thing about asking yourself hard questions: sometimes we already know the answer, and the knowing is uncomfortable. It’s like cleaning your home. You know the oven needs to be done. You know the bathtub needs attention. And you walk past it. You find something else to do. Because getting into it feels like too much, or it’s going to take longer than you want, or you’re just not ready to see how bad it actually got in there. But at some point, it becomes undeniable. Unavoidable. The state of it starts affecting everything else. Our inner lives work the same way. There are places inside us we’ve been walking past. Questions we’ve not been asking. Things we know we need but haven’t permitted ourselves to name, to want, to tend to. What have you been walking past lately? What is the thing, the person, the practice, the need — that you keep almost addressing and then moving on from? What specifically is happening in your life right now that requires a different kind of attention and intention? The Through Lines (And What Changes) Here’s something I’ve been thinking about: some things stay constant in us across all the seasons of our lives, and there are things that shift and change and need to be renegotiated constantly. The through lines are your core. Your non-negotiables, even when you can’t articulate them clearly. For me — and I’ve only gotten clear on this relatively recently — *autonomy* has always been mine. It hasn’t always looked the same. I’ve been a contractor, a consultant, a yoga teacher, a communications specialist, and now a cacao blend maker. The actual work has changed dramatically. But underneath all of it, the same thing was true: I needed to choose. I needed creative freedom. I needed flexibility. Even in the moments when I was in a role that didn’t give me as much of that as I wanted, I was always asking: Is this affording me access to autonomy somewhere else? Through the income, through the connections, through the skills I’m building? If the answer was yes, I could hold the ground. If the answer started becoming no, that was information too. What are your through lines? What has been consistently true about what you need, even as the circumstances changed? It might be autonomy. It might be community, or creativity, or safety, or connection, or being outdoors, or being useful. It might be something you haven’t found the word for yet, but you know it when it’s present — and you feel it acutely when it’s not. And equally important: what has *depleted* you consistently? Where do you notice yourself shrinking? There are certain environments, certain interactions, certain dynamics where you stop feeling like yourself. Where you start going quiet in ways that aren’t peaceful — they’re just absent. Where you lose your energy, your clarity, your sense of aliveness. That’s information too. Depletion is data. What Does Nourishment Mean *Right Now*? Because here’s what I know: what nourished you five years ago may not be what nourishes you today. And what nourishes you today may not be what you’ll need in five more years. Some things are consistent — we all need air, water, movement, connection, to feel seen and heard. Those are not optional. Those are not luxuries. They are needs, not in the sense of entitlement, but in the sense of basic biological and emotional reality. We are animals. We are living things. We have needs, and those needs are not selfishness. They are just *needs*. But the dial — the specific amount and form that each kind of nourishment takes — that changes. And knowing what your dial is set to *right now*, in this specific season, in this particular phase — that’s the practice. That’s the ongoing work. Maybe right now you need something completely different. Something you’ve never tried. Something that felt impossible or impractical before, but something is pulling you toward it, and you keep dismissing the pull. Maybe now is the time to stop dismissing it. Maybe you need to go on that trip. Finally, have that conversation with your boss, your partner, your friend, yourself. Maybe you need to take a break from something that used to nourish you but is now just a habit. Maybe you need the mac and cheese and the familiar TV show and the deep rest of doing nothing that your nervous system has been asking for. There is nourishment in that, too. There is nourishment in simplicity, in comfort, in not optimizing everything. And maybe — *hint, hint* — you need some cacao. But truly, only if it calls to you. Sit and Simmer I’m going to wrap this up, because the whole point of this episode was never for me to give you a lot to carry. It was for you to receive. To sit. To simmer. This question is one I return to constantly. It shows up in my life wearing different clothes — *what do I need right now, what am I tired of, what should I be doing* — but underneath all the different versions of it is always the same thing: *what am I nourishing?* I think it might be the foundational question. For our decisions — financial, emotional, relational, and professional. For how we live and work and love and rest. For how we understand who we are now, who we have been, and who we are becoming. So I’ll leave you with it. Not as a homework assignment. Not as something to get right. Just as something to carry gently, and see what it opens. WHAT are you nourishing? What ARE you nourishing? What are YOU nourishing? What are you NOURISHING? Take care. Be well. I’ll see you next time. 🤎 Raquel Sands is a small batch cacao blend maker, clarity and work strategist, and host of The Clarity Shift podcast. This series lives at the intersection of plant medicine, nourishment, culture, and self-awareness. Find her at farmer’s markets in Arlington, Virginia, in 2026, or reach out in the comments below. Thanks for reading Sands & Semilla! This post is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.miriamraquelsands.com
