While I was in Florida, I was also participating in a yoga challenge on Instagram. If you’re not familiar with this, look it up. Seriously. I’m not Google. It was mostly a disaster.
We spent my first night in there watching the sunset on the beach. My mom is a badass, so we sneaked in some mini bottles of wine, too. Then we (I) did some drunk yoga on the beach for the sake of my very first yoga challenge. Being the overachiever that I am (I’m not), I opted to accept an arm balance yoga challenge, despite the fact that I am not physically capable of most (all) arm balances yet. Side crow was so pathetic that I didn’t even post it. It was just me leaning against my elbows in the sand. It didn’t even look like I was trying to do anything. Ughhhh. My side crow is an embarrassment to yogis everywhere.
In addition to not being able to do most of the poses, I was also having a hard time with body image that week. Normally I do okay with that, but lately it has been a struggle. I mean, I’m only human after all. Normally I would spend the time getting the right angle of the photo, so I look my “best.” However, this time my mom was taking the photos, and I felt bad making her retake them. I also had to have a certain pose each day, which meant that I had to post it even if I didn’t love the way I looked in it. So, basically, I posted a handful of photos where I genuinely feel like I don’t look attractive. Logical me knows this doesn’t matter at all. AT ALL. But emotional me feels all vulnerable and shit. Again, I recognize that it doesn’t fucking matter. I’m just a human, and I’m allowed to look human. But, fuck, body positivity is hard. Sometimes I think I’m there, and then some other insecurity pops up. What an asshole.
Moral of the story… be gentle with yourself. I actually got a lot of positive feedback from people about my photos. They were inspired by the “realness” of it. That’s awesome, and really makes me happy. When I was first starting yoga, seeing real humans do hard poses on Instagram actually helped me a lot. It reminded me that there is no perfect body for yoga, and that if they could do it, so could I. If anyone is interested in following my yoga Instagram account, you can find me @kaeyogi.
This recipe came about from an amazing friend. That same friend also gifted me with a crock pot! That’s right… this is my first crock pot recipe! I’m sure it could be made on the stove as well, but it would take a fucking long time.
Vegan Mushroom and Wild Rice Soup
4 cups vegetable stock
2 cups water
1 cup chopped onion
2 – 14 oz cans coconut milk
2/3 cup uncooked wild rice
1/2 cup uncooked brown rice
1 cup diced carrots
3-4 stalks celery, chopped
4-6 cups mushrooms (I used button and crimini)
1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 cup cold water
Salt and pepper (a shit ton)
With the exception of the cornstarch and cold water, throw everything in the crock pot (making sure to shake the coconut milk before opening). Make sure it doesn’t overflow (mine got close!) as you stir all the ingredients together. Add some salt and pepper. Cook on low for 4 hours (I left mine for 6 though, and it was fine). I was afraid my apartment would start on fire while I was at work, but that didn’t happen. After the 4 (or 6) hours, combine the cornstarch and cold water in a small bowl, whisking together. Add the cornstarch mixture to the soup and cook with the lid off for 10 minutes (increasing the heat to high). Stir occasionally. Add more salt and pepper at the end, and serve with some crusty bread (duh). You can’t fuck this up. If you do, you should question your intelligence.
It was at this point that I panicked about storing all the soup, and I ended up just putting the whole crock pot in the fridge. Seems like a good idea, but makes it hard for scooping out leftovers later. I had to squat in front of the open fridge and scoop from the crock pot thats now living on its bottom shelf. Super annoying.
I serve mine with buttered bread because I’m not vegan. I also like to eat it in bed while watching My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend on Netflix. You do you, though.
Also, it’s Valentine’s Day. Go grab yourself one of these mini cakes, and eat that in bed, too. Or do what I did and share it with an awesome friend. Fuck the patriarchy.