Under the Influence of Spring!

The weather shifted a little, and I found myself outside more. Walking the dogs longer. Not rushing back in. Just being out there. And now I’m about to start dock jumping with my dog, Yeti, this week, which feels equal parts fun and chaotic—but also like something I didn’t even question saying yes to.

I didn’t decide to "get healthier this week." It kind of just… started elevating.

And somewhere in all of that, other things started to shift too.

Not in a forced way. Not in a “new plan, new me” kind of way.

Just… naturally.

I’ve also been forced—over time—to pay attention to what I eat.

Not because I wanted to at first, but because I had to.

Food allergies. Autoimmune stuff. The kind of things that don’t really give you the option to ignore them forever. At some point, your body gets loud enough that you either listen… or you keep paying for it.

So I started paying attention.

And then I got curious.

That curiosity is what led me to get certified as a nutrition coach. Not because I wanted to follow rules or hand out meal plans, but because I genuinely wanted to understand what was happening in my own body. What works. What doesn’t. Why something feels good one day and completely off the next.

But even with all of that knowledge… it still comes back to something simple.

Awareness.

Being outside more has a way of bringing that back.

When I’m moving more—even just walking—I notice I’m not mindlessly reaching for things. I’m not overthinking food, but I’m also not ignoring it.

It’s like the volume gets turned down on the noise.

And then suddenly I’m thinking: I should plant my vegetables.

I should actually use the herbs I already have. I should keep better options around—not because I have to, but because I actually want to.

And that’s the part that feels different.

We’re really good at looking for the next thing. (Or, at least I am)

The next plan. The next "diet". The next “start over.”

Meanwhile, we have herbs sitting in our kitchens that we forget to use.

We talk about planting a garden but don’t harvest what’s already there.

We buy things with good intentions and let them sit. And it’s not just food.

We do this in life too. We overlook what’s already working because we’re focused on what we think we need to fix.

Lately, I’ve been leaning into the opposite. Using what I have.

Not perfectly. Not in some aesthetic, perfectly planned way. Just… more often.

Snipping herbs instead of letting them sit there untouched. And maybe intentionally planting what I love so it won't sit there and rot.

Thinking about meals based on what I already have instead of starting from scratch.

Being outside more, which somehow makes everything else feel a little more aligned without trying so hard.

Movement doesn’t feel like a workout. Food doesn’t feel like a project.

It just feels like part of the day again. And maybe that’s the shift.

Maybe I’m not suddenly more disciplined.

Maybe I’m just under the influence of the season.

Spring has a way of pulling things back into place if you let it. Not by forcing a reset, but by reminding you of what’s already available to you.

You don’t need to overhaul everything.

You might just need to step outside…

and start paying attention again.—

Anyway, Does anyone need fresh rosemary?!