Making Soup Is Part of My Dharma

I've been thinking about something lately. As I have learned, Dharma comes from the Sanskrit word “Dhri” - which directly translates to "to hold," "to support," or "to sustain".

What if part of my Dharma—my purpose, my unique way of being of service in this one wild and precious life—is my love of making soup?

Yes, soup.

Yes, leading retreats. Yes, teaching yoga and meditation. Yes, facilitating transformational experiences.

And, also, standing in my kitchen, chopping vegetables, stirring a pot, adding a little of this and a little of that, (without following recipes, I must add) and creating something delicious and nourishing to share with my dear neighbors, family and friends.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize...why wouldn't that be part of my Dharma?

Because isn't so much of life about how we choose to show up? How we love, how we give, how we receive, and how present we are for the beautiful abundance that already surrounds us?

I absolutely LOVE making soup. There's something so satisfying about taking simple ingredients and turning them into something that warms the body and feeds the soul.

And I especially love sharing it.

Dropping off a container for a friend. Inviting someone to pull up a chair. Knowing that something I created with my own two hands might make someone's day feel a little more nourishing, a little warmer, a little more delicious.

It's such a simple thing. And yet, maybe it's not so small after all.

Maybe our purpose isn't always found in the big, extraordinary things we do. Maybe it's also found in the love we bring to the ordinary.

For me, making soup has become a beautiful practice in abundance.

I have food in my kitchen. A home in which to prepare it. People in my life to share it with. The time, energy, and desire to create something nourishing.

Oh my goodness. How abundant is that?

And here's what I find especially beautiful: the more I recognize how much I have, the more I want to share.

Not from obligation. Not because I should.

But because generosity feels like such a natural expression of gratitude.

And isn't that one of the most delicious ways to live?

So often, we're searching for our purpose, our calling, our next big thing. We wonder whether we're doing enough, contributing enough, becoming enough.

Believe me, as a recovering overthinker, I know that territory well!

But what if we stopped looking quite so hard and started noticing what already lights us up?

What if our Dharma reveals itself in the things we naturally love to do, especially when those things bring joy, comfort, or connection to someone else?

Maybe it's making soup.

Maybe it's tending a garden, listening deeply to a friend, gathering people around a table, or simply offering your full presence to someone who needs to feel seen.

And perhaps the real magic isn't in the activity itself.

It's in the consciousness we bring to it. You can ask yourself:

Am I rushing through this moment, or am I actually here for it?

Am I aware of how much I have, or am I focused on what's missing?

Am I allowing myself to experience the joy of giving, and equally, the joy of receiving?

Because abundance isn't about the stuff we accumulate.

It's about what we appreciate, what we savor, and what we're willing to circulate.

And I love the thought that every time I stir a pot of soup, I'm participating in that beautiful exchange.

Nourishing. Sustaining. Supporting. Loving.

So yes, making and sharing soup is part of my Dharma.

And perhaps this is my invitation to all of us to stop overlooking the seemingly small ways we make a difference.

Because a life of purpose doesn't have to be grand to be meaningful.

Sometimes it looks like a warm bowl of homemade soup, offered with love.

And honestly, that feels pretty magical to me.

A little something to simmer on:

What is something you naturally love doing that nourishes not only you, but others? And what if that, too, is part of your Dharma?

With love, gratitude, and a big pot of soup 🍜,

Liz