Some things fill us, and some things feed us. Learning the difference might just change everything. (Esther Joy Goetz)
I arrived in La Jolla, California on Thursday, after an insane travel day that found me literally running for my connection in the O’Hare airport and plopping down in bed at 3 am my time.
I am here with my husband to spend the weekend with my littlest big and her person, something that’s sacred and special and happens never-often-enough.
For dinner, we wandered down our street in search of something to eat. The kind of hunger I had wasn’t just about food—I wanted something satisfying. Something that would actually hit the spot.
That’s when I found it.
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A hole-in-the-wall restaurant called The Promiscuous Fork (even the name enticed me) with a line of locals and a faded sign. No frills. No trendy seating. Just a list of Southern California comfort food, short-rib tacos on the menu. And let me tell you—they were everything.
Every bite was flavorful, juicy, and spicy in that perfect "I need water but I don't want to stop eating" kind of way. But it wasn’t just tasty—it felt nourishing. There was something about the simplicity, the freshness, the no-fuss joy of it all. It filled something in me that went beyond just physical hunger.
Later that night, I treated myself to a cup of gelato with an advertisement on the lid saying it was straight from Italy. It was beautiful, with its little flower-petal scoops and imported notions of pistachios and far-away flavors. But when I took a bite, it tasted… icy. Sweet but cloying. Artificial. I ate what I had filled my bowl with, but felt completely dissatisfied. I’m not sure if I will finish what’s left in the tub.
And it got me thinking.
What is feeding me right now?
Not just what am I consuming. But what is actually nourishing me? What am I choosing because it looks good or sounds right or everyone else is doing it? And what am I choosing because it actually feeds something deeper in me?
I’m trying to pay closer attention to the difference.
Some things fill the calendar but starve the soul. Some conversations go on forever but leave me lonelier than when they started. Some spiritual practices check the boxes but never crack me open. Some people, some patterns, some stories—I keep going back to them, hoping they’ll finally satisfy. But they don’t. Some things promise to satisfy and are icy.
So I’m asking again, with tenderness and honesty: What is feeding me?
What actually nourishes the real me—the soft, sacred center of who I am?
What brings me back to life, instead of just keeping me busy?
What fills me with quiet joy instead of performance-based pressure?
What tastes like a beautiful mixture of grace and truth?
Lately, it’s a practice that’s called “morning pages” from a book called The Artist’s Way (more to come on that). Flowers. Flowers. Flowers. Songs I’ve loved for years and snuggles with my grand baby. Pauses that feel like exhalations. Friends who listen without trying to fix me. A story that reminds me who I am. And not-surprisingly, the time I spend with my clients, our souls connecting in sacred space (this nourishment is not lost on me). Stop here for a second…You can get a free consult…info below.
This isn’t about swearing off gelato forever or pretending tacos are the meaning of life (though some days they get close). It’s about noticing. Tuning in. Letting myself hunger for more than surface-level sweetness. Choosing nourishment. Choosing what actually feeds me.
So now, that question still lingers in the back of my mind. Not in a demanding, fix-it-now kind of way, but more like a quiet companion, tugging gently at my sleeve.
What’s feeding me right now?
Not just what am I doing, or consuming, or participating in—but what’s actually sustaining me? What’s filling me up in a way that feels true? What’s leaving me hollow, no matter how good it looks on the outside?
Maybe you want to sit with that question too. Not to judge yourself or make sweeping changes overnight, but simply to notice. To get curious. Because sometimes, that’s where the shift begins— In the honest naming. In the gentle asking. In the slow turning back toward what really nourishes.
From my heart to yours, Esther
If this has touched you and you want to invite others into this space, I would feel so honored if you would connect them with me. It’s really how I get my words and my resources available.
I am committed to being a compassionate companion on your journey to care for your soul, offering a supportive and non-judgmental space for reflection, contemplation, and exploration.
Whether you're seeking clarity in times of uncertainty, navigating life transitions, or simply desiring a deeper connection with your soul, I am dedicated to walk alongside you.
If you need to know more before booking your free consultation, check out all the information about what it is and why it might be just the right fit for you HERE!
One thing I think my feed you is my book of daily Summer meditations for the months of June, July and August (hint: get it before June 1st). If you need room for your soul to breathe just a little bit deeper and freer, these daily reflections are for you.
A life-long yearning for all things spiritual and also my venture into a more curious faith journey filled with all that makes each one of us a combination of dirt and divinity, humanity and holiness, has given me the passion to create this holistic and platitude-free devotional.
I was frantically planting my impatiens on Monday before I left to care for my grand baby for a couple of days and then on to Southern California and I listened to a podcast episode from
that had me actually writing a note to myself to re-listen to it and take notes. This is SUPER RARE for me. Talk about nourishing my soul!!
If you are feeling so confused as to how to show up in a world of divisiveness, othering and downright unkindness, name-calling and bullying with LOVE as your source, guide and companion, this is for you. It’s so needed right now.
Noticing. Nourishing. Feeding. In a study I'm doing with a group of online friends (The (He)art of Art Journaling by Leaca Young), I'm going through reading books I've never read (which is a rare thing), self-reflection, growing my mind/spirit/art. This week, we're looking at The Art of Receiving (Yiu have to fill your bucket first, or you won't have anything to give). My goal is to find my interpretation of *self-love* (something I struggle with...but if God loves me so much, I must be loveable). Your post this morning is so in line with that. Thank you so much for peeking inside my brain 😹✝️🙌🏻📖👩🏻🎨
Noticing. Nourishing. Feeding. In a study I'm doing with a group of online friends (The (He)art of Art Journaling by Leaca Young), I'm going through reading books I've never read (which is a rare thing), self-reflection, growing my mind/spirit/art. This week, we're looking at The Art of Receiving (Yiu have to fill your bucket first, or you won't have anything to give). My goal is to find my interpretation of *self-love* (something I struggle with...but if God loves me so much, I must be loveable). Your post this morning is so in line with that. Thank you so much for peeking inside my brain 😹✝️🙌🏻📖👩🏻🎨