Roots living in NYC. I chose this as my theme, but what does it mean? Upon conception (of this weblog), I had in mind something very bland and boring, really. Heartfelt, perhaps helpful posts about how to eat healthy, breathe healthy, move healthy and find ways to relate to the earth when all the earth around you has been poured over by concrete. Reflections upon farmers I connect with at the greenmarket. There will be these things, probably, but I have gotten a significant reality check in these past weeks: the “roots living” kind of satisfaction that is available here, for those who seek it, comes largely from the relationships you create with the people you meet every day. This is fertile ground for transformation no matter where you are, but really, being in nYc adds its own very unique element to the equation. There are constant language barriers, differences of style/opinion/ethnicity/background/lifestyle that in each interaction I find myself having to decide: will I let our interaction be limited by a shared perception of differences? 

And here is a little mothering tidbit that fits nicely: being a mom here has completely transformed the quality of my interactions in this town. Because if nothing else, being a mom in new york means one thing for sure: you spend a lot of time at the playground. The playground must qualify as its own little ecosystem, a bubble in which people that would never otherwise afford each other a sideways glance in the street are joined by the tender fact of parenthood. Nina makes immediate friends endlessly, and very few of them or their parents speak a word of English. We find ourselves communicating through our efforts to amuse and make happy our little ones. We make funny faces, stick out our tongues, screech and coo, do all sorts of pretend-play gesticulations with our hands in the air, push each others’ kids on the swings, and watch our babies find their own fascination with one another. You know that feeling when you’re so moved you can actually feel your heart stretch? I get this every day on the playground. 

So, in the spirit of a belated mothers day (the first I actually got to spend as a mother!) I share that it is a good feeling indeed to look at your own prejudices in the eye, frankly. They will surprise you, if you are anything like me and even if you are nothing like me. 

On a nutritional note, I lament that it is dangerous to do any sort of serious detox while breast-feeding. However, this has not stopped me from adding veggie juice into my daily routine to get some of those toxins moving. I normally avoid juice of all kinds because of the sugar content. It seems more wholesome to eat a carrot than to juice four, throw away the fiber and drink the sugar. But even I, hater that I am, cannot ignore the cleansing properties of this refreshing, minerally potion. I always dilute in in half with water to avoid pancreatic overstimulation, and often dilute with five parts water and let Nina sip. Shortly we are both exalted. This combo:

                       dandelion greens, beets, carrot, cabbage, celery, ginger, lemon, apple

cured my jetlag in a matter of hours, and repeatedly transforms a bad mood on a dime. I am naturally moody and must be careful not to abuse this panacea. 

Okay, happy mother’s day. We are all born of a mama, and our daughters may be mamas (and ours sons papas) one day too!


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