Soul Food
Soul Food: What Feeds Your Spirit?
A little over a year ago, in the middle of one of the hardest periods of my life, I did something unexpected.
I taught myself to DJ.
Not because I had dreams of spinning at clubs or becoming the next big thing. But because I desperately needed something to make me smile. Something that was just for me. Something that reminded me I was still alive, still capable of joy, still here.
And it worked.
What is soul food, anyway?
I'm not talking about the kind you eat (though a good home-cooked meal absolutely counts). I'm talking about the things that replenish you. The activities, moments, and experiences that fill your cup back up when life has drained it dry.
For me, soul food looks like:
Making art with my hands—feeling wool transform or watching wax resist dye on fabric. There's something deeply grounding about creating something tangible in a world that often feels out of control.
Walking through nature, paying attention. The way light filters through leaves. The sound of my feet on the trail. The reminder that I'm part of something much bigger than my problems.
Stargazing on clear nights, feeling small in the best possible way.
Cooking from scratch, hunting for new recipes, making my kitchen smell like home. The alchemy of turning simple ingredients into nourishment.
Dancing like no one's watching (because usually no one is, and even if they were, who cares?).
Time with the people I love—real time, not just scrolling past their lives online. Laughter. Conversation. Presence.
Music—listening to it, moving to it, mixing it. Sound has a way of reaching the parts of us that words can't touch.
Learning to DJ taught me something important: we don't have to wait for joy to find us. We can actively seek it out. We can create it. Even—especially—during the hard times.
Your soul needs food too
Here's what I know for sure: We live in a world that's constantly asking us to give, produce, perform, and keep going. We pour ourselves out for our jobs, our families, our responsibilities. And if we're not careful, we wake up one day completely empty, wondering where we went.
That's why soul food isn't selfish—it's survival.
It's not indulgent to do things that light you up. It's not frivolous to spend time on activities that seem to serve no "productive" purpose. These moments of replenishment are what keep us human. They're what remind us that life isn't just something to get through—it's something to savor.
So I'm asking you:
What feeds your soul?
What activities make you lose track of time? What makes you feel most like yourself? What did you love doing before life got so busy and complicated?
Maybe it's:
Gardening with your hands in the dirt
Reading a book that takes you somewhere else
Painting, drawing, knitting, building
Singing in your car at the top of your lungs
Baking bread and kneading out your stress
Sitting by water
Playing with your dog
Writing in a journal no one will ever read
Whatever it is—do more of it.
Not someday. Not when you have more time or less stress or when everything settles down.
Now.
Give yourself permission
Permission to rest. Permission to play. Permission to do things simply because they bring you joy, not because they're productive or impressive or Instagram-worthy.
Your soul is hungry. Feed it.
Life is hard and beautiful and short and full of both heartbreak and wonder. Don't wait for the "right time" to enjoy the beauty that's all around you. The right time is now.
So go ahead—learn that thing you've always wanted to try. Spend an afternoon doing something completely "unproductive." Dance. Create. Stargaze. Cook. Walk. Play music. Make art.
Find what lights you up, because in a very real way, it does.
What's your soul food? I'd love to hear what replenishes you. Drop a comment below or send me a message—let's inspire each other.
