Yesterday, I was reminded of the positive power of nourishment through connection to others and to myself. I attended a day Nourish Retreat at the beautiful Fathom Gallery on 14th St. It was a wee bit “sus” at first because the storefront window is still mostly covered up with craft paper and a security guard was posted at the entrance. However, Chim was cheery and any misgivings I had immediately vanished upon walking up the gallery’s wooden staircase. It was truly a nourishing space.
I was met by squeals of joy from my friends, “the Sarahs” and Jamia, who, coincidentally, facilitated the retreat under the auspices of The Art of Self Worth. I can’t say enough about the value of these friendships or the gifts of renewal that these female dynamos bestow upon all who attend their curated events. This was my third retreat but the first one-day event—and it was held virtually held in my backyard.
As an ADDer (I know some detest this term, but it easily identifies me as an adult with ADHD) who can hyperfocus to my own detriment, I was in desperate need of TLC. I’m actively restructuring my counseling practice through researching and beginning to act on hiring W2 employees, shifting liability insurance from individual to practice, adding worker’s comp, etc. Spending hours performing administrative tasks leaves me feeling depleted. As my husband says jokingly, one of my favorite pastimes is “ADD to cart.” Shopping for mundane yet necessary things offers no immediate rewards. And instant gratification is, more or less, manna for those with ADHD. Add to this the compassion fatigue I experience every three or four months and you get an overworked, undernourished shell of me.
So I can only describe yesterday as food for my soul! I won’t give spoilers because I strongly encourage any and all women with ADHD to book a retreat with the Sarahs and find out. I will, however, share with you my journal prompt reflection on the topic of nourishment:
October 17, 2026/nearly lunch x
Nourishment is telling my husband that I need to resume my practice of morning pages. It’s being held literally and metaphorically by the Sarahs and Jamia. To be reminded that I’m also by my ancestors. I’m keenly aware of their absence. Always in the fall, Rosh Ha’Shana through Hannukah (winter). Holiday times can make me feel alone. In guided meditation, I imagined Aunt Sister’s warm embrace, the crepe-like feel of Grandma Mary’s arms and the comfort of scratching DP’s beard. He used to grudgingly allow this, but I think he secretly loved it. Now, I am an educator like my aunt, strong and doughy like my grandma and quirky like DP.
Sitting here in quiet, I remember what lightness feels like. I’m so exhausted! If women truly hold up half the sky, then my corner of it is so heavy and burdensome! I’m so ready for the sunlight and rain of Florida. Vacation in T-minus a month. I can’t wait to have sand under my toes and my toes tickled by tides, to see epiphytes. Part of me is also rooted in Florida; where our community security guard once gave me armloads full of tangerines and where Nonnie and I used to get lost within the recesses of the old banyan tree.
Nourishment is having no one who needs anything of me. It’s filling my new raised garden beds with homemade compost, soil and earthworms. Nourishment is dancing Qoya-style with wild-hipped women like me. It’s reconnecting with Erin. It’s my dogs and cats and all the little things that Mark does for me on the daily like making our morning coffee. It’s those daily reminders he gives me that he’s always thinking about me even if I don’t always recognize all the ways he cares for me.
Nourishment is our cat, Tangelo. Once a street cat, he now runs to me whenever he hears the car pull up. He defends me against whatever scary shit he perceives is in the bathroom. He maintains vigil while I shower. He reminds me that nourishment is whatever feels feral can be fed through connecting with heart friends and the soul’s need to dance! Nourishment is not, as Jamia sagely noted, “wearing our stress like a badge of honor.”