Category: Blog

Let’s say you’re sautéeing ground beef. Look at the meat you’re stirring around: what’s all that water in your frying pan? It’s water all right, but you paid for meat, not H2O. It’s right to ask if this a hidden ingredient, like meat glue. To figure out how much you paid for that water, drain […]

The post Are You Paying For Meat, Or For Water? appeared first on Green Prophet.

Let’s say you’re sautéeing ground beef. Look at the meat you’re stirring around: what’s all that water in your frying pan? It’s water all right, but you paid for meat, not H2O. It’s right to ask if this a hidden ingredient, like meat glue.

To figure out how much you paid for that water, drain it off and measure it. 1 cup of water equals about 236 grams, or 0.5 lb. Divide that into the price per kilo/lb that you paid for that package of raw ground beef, and prepare for a shock.

Cooking causes loss of natural meat fluids, about 25% of the weight. Injected meat may lose up to 40% weight. Even discounting natural loss of juices in cooking, it’s likely you paid the price of meat for that water. And you’re short of the amount of food you were counting on.

Another experiment, this one with packaged raw meat: take the piece off the damp absorbent pad it sat on, and weigh it. You may find that it weighs less than stated on the label by as much as 15%. That was water absorbed by the pad. And that’s without accounting for water leeched out when the meat hits a hot pan.

Many manufacturers inject water or saline solution, or water plus salt, phosphate, and flavorings into raw beef, pork, chicken, turkey, and some seafoods. This increases the product’s saleable weight. And it increases manufacturers’ profit per animal; water is cheaper than meat, after all. Phosphates make the meat retain that added water, giving it a juicy appearance and texture.

According to the USDA, about 30% of poultry, 15% of beef, and 90% of pork are injected with salty liquids. This is the FSIS’s detailed breakdown of water in meat and poultry.

The meat is treated before getting weighed, packaged, and labeled; when the supermarket receives the product, it’s ready to sell.

Injecting saline into meat is called “plumping” or “enhancing.” It’s a recognized, governnment regulated practice.  Meat manufacturers justify plumping by claiming that it grants meat and poultry better flavor and texture, (and makes them more marketable) when treated so. That’s probably true. But wait, what happened to the original flavor and juiciness?

It’s a problem. Today’s consumers demand meat and poultry bred to have less fat. Because fat contains much of the flavor and protects the natural juices, low-fat proteins tend to dry up in cooking and lose flavor. Consumers like to buy the most attractive product, and expect retail chains to conform to standard weight and appearance. From the processor’s and supermarket’s point of view, pumping salty, flavored water and phosphate into your steak is therefore doing you a favor.

Plumping’s not new, but consumers have become aware and vocal about it only recently. There were scandals in the UK about water-injected chicken and pork as far back as 2017.

Health hazards

More recently, consumers have brought up other related issues. Safety, for example. The Food Safety and Inspection Service (FSIS) lists injected meat as a high-risk carrier of E. coli bacteria, which is often found on the surface of meat. When the needles that insert the salt solution penetrate the meat, the bacteria is pushed in deeply. Cooking may not kill it, especially when the meat’s served rare.

To avoid bacterial infection in injected meat, the FSIS recommends, but does not require, that processors apply “an allowed antimicrobial agent to the surface of the product prior to processing.” What antimicrobial agents are these? And how are they applied? We aren’t told.

Salt and water sounds harmless, but the consumer eating injected meat is getting more sodium in their diet than they’re aware or can keep track of. This could be bad news for people with high blood pressure or heart disease who must minimize their salt intake.

Even meat labeled organic may contain injected saline, because FSIS lists salt and water as organic. The FSIS allows selling injected meat as “natural” and “fresh” unless the added solution changes the product’s nature in ways that require different labeling. If you want to make absolutely sure that product is free of added salt and water, look for a statement on the label reading “no artificial ingredients,” “minimally processed,” or similar.

A person standing in the supermarket and considering the label on a meat product may well wonder where they should put their trust. Must they Google every brand to feel comfortable eating it? It’s one thing to inject brine into your Thanksgiving turkey, and some people choose to, but the cook should be in control over that, not the meat processing factory.

Red flags

If the product was injected, the package label should indicate that it contains X amount of added solution. Conversely, it may read that it’s X percent meat (or chicken, or fish). You’re to understand that the missing percent is water treated with salt or salt plus phosphate.

Look on the label for the words enhanced, marinated, broth, and flavored. Those are signs that the meat has been interfered with. Avoid food packaged in sauce; you may be taking home chemical enhancers, fillers, preservatives, and yet more salt.

On the other hand, if the label reads “no added solutions,” “minimally processed,” “no artificial ingredients” or “100% beef (or fish or chicken) ” – or the listed ingredients don’t include water, salt, or phosphate, it’s probably honest meat.

If you can, buy whole cuts of roasts and chops. Learn to trim them at home. Or if that’s too much trouble, buy your supermarket meat from the butcher counter. Ask if they grind their own.

Even better, buy meat from local farms. Best of all, if you can, is to make a co-op order of freshly butchered meat together with neighbors, friends, or work colleagues. It will cost more, but consider water you pay for in plumped meat.

Photo by Fitri Ariningrum on Unsplash

 

The post Are You Paying For Meat, Or For Water? appeared first on Green Prophet.

 

“There is no amount of self-improvement that can make up for a lack of self-acceptance.” ~Robert Holden

Six years ago, I forgot it was picture day at my daughter’s school. She left the house in a sweatshirt with a faint, unidentifiable stain and hair still bent from yesterday’s ponytail.

The photographer probably spent less than ten seconds on her photo, but I spent hours replaying the morning in my head, imagining her years later looking at that picture and believing her mother had not tried hard enough.

It’s strange how small moments can lodge themselves in memory. Even now, …

 

“There is no amount of self-improvement that can make up for a lack of self-acceptance.” ~Robert Holden

Six years ago, I forgot it was picture day at my daughter’s school. She left the house in a sweatshirt with a faint, unidentifiable stain and hair still bent from yesterday’s ponytail.

The photographer probably spent less than ten seconds on her photo, but I spent hours replaying the morning in my head, imagining her years later looking at that picture and believing her mother had not tried hard enough.

It’s strange how small moments can lodge themselves in memory. Even now, when life is smooth, that picture sometimes drifts back. The difference is that I no longer treat it as proof that I am careless or unloving. I see it as a reminder that no one gets it all right, no matter how hard they try.

I tend to hold on to my “failures” long after everyone else has let them go. My daughter has never mentioned that photo, and one day, if she becomes a mother, she might discover that small imperfections are not proof of neglect. They can be a kind of grace.

For most of my life, I thought being a good person meant being relentlessly self-critical. I stayed up too late worrying over things no one else noticed, like an unanswered text or a dusty shelf before company arrived. Sometimes I replayed conversations until I found the exact moment I could have been warmer or wiser.

The list was endless, and my self-worth seemed to hinge on how perfectly I performed in every role. Somewhere along the way, I started expecting myself to already know how to do everything right. But this is the first time I have lived this exact day, with this exact set of challenges and choices.

It is the first time parenting a child this age. The first time navigating friendships in this season. The first time balancing today’s responsibilities with today’s emotions.

The shift came on a day when nothing seemed to go my way. I missed an appointment I had no excuse for missing, realized too late that I had forgotten to order my friend’s birthday gift, and then managed to burn dinner. None of it was catastrophic, but the weight of these small failures began to gather, as they always did, into a heaviness in my chest.

I could feel myself leaning toward the familiar spiral of self-reproach when I happened to glance across the room and see my daughter. And in that instant, a thought surfaced: What if I spoke to myself the way I would speak to her if she had made these same mistakes?

I knew exactly what I would say. I would remind her that being human means sometimes getting it wrong. I would tell her that one day’s mistakes do not erase years of love.

I would make sure she knew she was still good, still worthy, and still enough. So I tried saying it to myself, out loud. “We all make mistakes.”

The words felt clumsy, almost unnatural, like I was finally trying to speak the language I had only just begun to learn. But something inside softened just enough for me to take a breath and let the day end without carrying all its weight into tomorrow.

Self-compassion has not made me careless. It has made me steadier. When I stop spending my energy on shame, I have more of it for the people and priorities that matter.

Research confirms this truth. Self-compassion is not about lowering standards. It is about building the emotional safety that allows us to keep showing up without fear.

And here is what I have learned about actually practicing it. Self-compassion is not a single thought or mantra. It’s a habit, one you build the same way you would strength or endurance.

It begins with noticing the voice in your head when you make a mistake. Most of us have an internal commentator that sounds less like a mentor and more like a drill sergeant. The work is in catching that voice in the act and then, without forcing a smile or pretending you are not disappointed, speaking to yourself like someone you love.

Sometimes that means literally saying the words out loud so you can hear the tone. Sometimes it means pausing long enough to remember you are still learning. Sometimes it means choosing kindness even when shame feels easier.

It also helps to remember what self-compassion is not. It is not excusing harmful behavior or ignoring areas where we want to grow. It is acknowledging that growth happens more easily in a climate of patience than in one of punishment.

The science supports this. When we practice self-kindness, our stress response begins to quiet, and our nervous system has a chance to settle. This does not just feel better in the moment; it makes it easier to think clearly and choose our next step.

I’ve noticed other changes as well. Self-compassion makes me braver. When I’m not terrified of berating myself if I fall short, I am more willing to try something new.

I take risks in conversations. I admit when I do not know something. I start things without obsessing over how they’ll end, and when mistakes inevitably happen, I don’t have to waste days recovering from my own criticism.

Sometimes self-compassion is quiet, like putting your phone down when you begin to spiral through mental replays. Sometimes it is active, like deciding to stop apologizing for being human. Sometimes it is physical, like unclenching your jaw or placing a hand on your chest as you breathe.

Over time, these small gestures add up. They rewire the way you respond to yourself, replacing the reflex of blame with the reflex of care.

We are all walking into each day for the first time. Of course we will miss a detail or lose our patience. Of course we will get things wrong.

But when we meet ourselves with kindness instead of condemnation, we remind ourselves that love, whether for others or for ourselves, has never depended on perfection.

And that lesson will last far longer than any perfect picture.

See more posts

Get in the conversation! Click here to leave a comment on the site.

Black smog in Cairo At COP30 in Belém, Brazil, scientists delivered another stark update: global fossil-fuel emissions are set to rise yet again this year. But for the first time, there are credible signs the world may be nearing a turning point. The timing of that peak — and what happens afterward — will depend […]

The post Global Emissions Keep Rising, But Scientists Say Peak is in Sight appeared first on Green Prophet.

Previous research that evaluated the effect of the hallucinogenic molecules of cannabis (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol THC) the main psychoactive compound in cannabis on motor vehicle crashes concluded that there is no increase of crash risk because of detectable THC. The molecule may linger days after use and is not a reliable indicator that a driver is impaired, report scientists in a new study.

Despite evidence showing no correlation between the detection of THC in the blood and driving impairment, 6 American states in the United States have per se laws using 2 or 5 ng/mL of THC as the cut-off point for driving under the influence of cannabis, while 12 have a zero-tolerance law.

These cut-off points are considered face value evidence of driving impairment, which means that even if it has been several days since an individual’s last use of the drug and they show no behavioral impairment, they may still face legal risks, up to and including felony charges. In Dubai you can go to jail for having cannabis in your blood, even if the cannabis was consumed in London, Tel Aviv or Toronto.

To address this issue, a team of researchers led by Dr. Thomas D. Marcotte, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, and codirector of the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research, set out to investigate the blood concentrations of THC in regular cannabis users, as well as the simulated driving performance for participants who exceeded per se cut-off points compared with those who were below these values. The researchers measured baseline concentrations of THC in 190 regular cannabis users after instructing participants to abstain from cannabis for at least 48 hours. Following abstention, the researchers also evaluated driving performance in this group using a driving simulator.

From this, the team found that many regular users of cannabis exceed zero tolerance and per se THC cut-off point concentrations days after their last use. Specifically, 43% of participants exceeded zero-tolerance statutes at baseline, while 24% had baseline blood THC concentrations that were greater than or equal to the per se cut-off of 2 ng/mL, and 5.3% had blood concentrations greater than or equal to 5 ng/mL.

Based on the results from the driving simulation, participants with elevated baseline concentrations of THC did no worse on a driving simulator compared with participants who were below per se cut-off points. Altogether, the results add to a growing body of evidence showing that current per se THC blood limit laws lack scientific credibility as face-value evidence of impairment.

“More work needs to be done to address how to best identify drivers who are under the influence of cannabis and are unsafe to drive,” the study authors wrote. “At present, the best protocol is a combination of observations in the field and toxicology testing.” They also added that “an essential component of improving highway safety is collaborations between law enforcement and the scientific community to develop standards that are unbiased and potentially lifesaving.”

The post Stoned and driving? High THC levels might not mean you are impaired appeared first on Green Prophet.

What we can learn from Mars about climate change We have heard that peak climate change might be in sight. Does Mars have more clues about our future? Travelling from Mars’s equator toward its northern latitudes, planetary scientists reach a region called Coloe Fossae — a landscape carved by deep valleys, collapsed blocks of terrain, […]

The post What a martian ice age left behind tells us about our future appeared first on Green Prophet.

Previous research that evaluated the effect of the hallucinogenic molecules of cannabis (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol THC) the main psychoactive compound in cannabis on motor vehicle crashes concluded that there is no increase of crash risk because of detectable THC. The molecule may linger days after use and is not a reliable indicator that a driver is impaired, report scientists in a new study.

Despite evidence showing no correlation between the detection of THC in the blood and driving impairment, 6 American states in the United States have per se laws using 2 or 5 ng/mL of THC as the cut-off point for driving under the influence of cannabis, while 12 have a zero-tolerance law.

These cut-off points are considered face value evidence of driving impairment, which means that even if it has been several days since an individual’s last use of the drug and they show no behavioral impairment, they may still face legal risks, up to and including felony charges. In Dubai you can go to jail for having cannabis in your blood, even if the cannabis was consumed in London, Tel Aviv or Toronto.

To address this issue, a team of researchers led by Dr. Thomas D. Marcotte, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, and codirector of the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research, set out to investigate the blood concentrations of THC in regular cannabis users, as well as the simulated driving performance for participants who exceeded per se cut-off points compared with those who were below these values. The researchers measured baseline concentrations of THC in 190 regular cannabis users after instructing participants to abstain from cannabis for at least 48 hours. Following abstention, the researchers also evaluated driving performance in this group using a driving simulator.

From this, the team found that many regular users of cannabis exceed zero tolerance and per se THC cut-off point concentrations days after their last use. Specifically, 43% of participants exceeded zero-tolerance statutes at baseline, while 24% had baseline blood THC concentrations that were greater than or equal to the per se cut-off of 2 ng/mL, and 5.3% had blood concentrations greater than or equal to 5 ng/mL.

Based on the results from the driving simulation, participants with elevated baseline concentrations of THC did no worse on a driving simulator compared with participants who were below per se cut-off points. Altogether, the results add to a growing body of evidence showing that current per se THC blood limit laws lack scientific credibility as face-value evidence of impairment.

“More work needs to be done to address how to best identify drivers who are under the influence of cannabis and are unsafe to drive,” the study authors wrote. “At present, the best protocol is a combination of observations in the field and toxicology testing.” They also added that “an essential component of improving highway safety is collaborations between law enforcement and the scientific community to develop standards that are unbiased and potentially lifesaving.”

The post Stoned and driving? High THC levels might not mean you are impaired appeared first on Green Prophet.

Students also gain hands-on experience in caring for patients using cannabis, as well as any other medications and illicit substances, after they begin their clinical rotations, he added. 

The post American college trains medical students on how to treat with cannabis appeared first on Green Prophet.

Previous research that evaluated the effect of the hallucinogenic molecules of cannabis (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol THC) the main psychoactive compound in cannabis on motor vehicle crashes concluded that there is no increase of crash risk because of detectable THC. The molecule may linger days after use and is not a reliable indicator that a driver is impaired, report scientists in a new study.

Despite evidence showing no correlation between the detection of THC in the blood and driving impairment, 6 American states in the United States have per se laws using 2 or 5 ng/mL of THC as the cut-off point for driving under the influence of cannabis, while 12 have a zero-tolerance law.

These cut-off points are considered face value evidence of driving impairment, which means that even if it has been several days since an individual’s last use of the drug and they show no behavioral impairment, they may still face legal risks, up to and including felony charges. In Dubai you can go to jail for having cannabis in your blood, even if the cannabis was consumed in London, Tel Aviv or Toronto.

To address this issue, a team of researchers led by Dr. Thomas D. Marcotte, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, and codirector of the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research, set out to investigate the blood concentrations of THC in regular cannabis users, as well as the simulated driving performance for participants who exceeded per se cut-off points compared with those who were below these values. The researchers measured baseline concentrations of THC in 190 regular cannabis users after instructing participants to abstain from cannabis for at least 48 hours. Following abstention, the researchers also evaluated driving performance in this group using a driving simulator.

From this, the team found that many regular users of cannabis exceed zero tolerance and per se THC cut-off point concentrations days after their last use. Specifically, 43% of participants exceeded zero-tolerance statutes at baseline, while 24% had baseline blood THC concentrations that were greater than or equal to the per se cut-off of 2 ng/mL, and 5.3% had blood concentrations greater than or equal to 5 ng/mL.

Based on the results from the driving simulation, participants with elevated baseline concentrations of THC did no worse on a driving simulator compared with participants who were below per se cut-off points. Altogether, the results add to a growing body of evidence showing that current per se THC blood limit laws lack scientific credibility as face-value evidence of impairment.

“More work needs to be done to address how to best identify drivers who are under the influence of cannabis and are unsafe to drive,” the study authors wrote. “At present, the best protocol is a combination of observations in the field and toxicology testing.” They also added that “an essential component of improving highway safety is collaborations between law enforcement and the scientific community to develop standards that are unbiased and potentially lifesaving.”

The post Stoned and driving? High THC levels might not mean you are impaired appeared first on Green Prophet.

THC blood levels don’t reliably indicate driving impairment, meaning current per se laws risk penalizing sober drivers long after cannabis use. Previous research that evaluated the effect of the hallucinogenic molecules of cannabis (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol THC) the main psychoactive compound in cannabis on motor vehicle crashes concluded that there is no increase of crash risk because […]

The post Stoned and driving? High THC levels might not mean you are impaired appeared first on Green Prophet.

Previous research that evaluated the effect of the hallucinogenic molecules of cannabis (delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol THC) the main psychoactive compound in cannabis on motor vehicle crashes concluded that there is no increase of crash risk because of detectable THC. The molecule may linger days after use and is not a reliable indicator that a driver is impaired, report scientists in a new study.

Despite evidence showing no correlation between the detection of THC in the blood and driving impairment, 6 American states in the United States have per se laws using 2 or 5 ng/mL of THC as the cut-off point for driving under the influence of cannabis, while 12 have a zero-tolerance law.

These cut-off points are considered face value evidence of driving impairment, which means that even if it has been several days since an individual’s last use of the drug and they show no behavioral impairment, they may still face legal risks, up to and including felony charges. In Dubai you can go to jail for having cannabis in your blood, even if the cannabis was consumed in London, Tel Aviv or Toronto.

To address this issue, a team of researchers led by Dr. Thomas D. Marcotte, professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Diego, and codirector of the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research, set out to investigate the blood concentrations of THC in regular cannabis users, as well as the simulated driving performance for participants who exceeded per se cut-off points compared with those who were below these values. The researchers measured baseline concentrations of THC in 190 regular cannabis users after instructing participants to abstain from cannabis for at least 48 hours. Following abstention, the researchers also evaluated driving performance in this group using a driving simulator.

From this, the team found that many regular users of cannabis exceed zero tolerance and per se THC cut-off point concentrations days after their last use. Specifically, 43% of participants exceeded zero-tolerance statutes at baseline, while 24% had baseline blood THC concentrations that were greater than or equal to the per se cut-off of 2 ng/mL, and 5.3% had blood concentrations greater than or equal to 5 ng/mL.

Based on the results from the driving simulation, participants with elevated baseline concentrations of THC did no worse on a driving simulator compared with participants who were below per se cut-off points. Altogether, the results add to a growing body of evidence showing that current per se THC blood limit laws lack scientific credibility as face-value evidence of impairment.

“More work needs to be done to address how to best identify drivers who are under the influence of cannabis and are unsafe to drive,” the study authors wrote. “At present, the best protocol is a combination of observations in the field and toxicology testing.” They also added that “an essential component of improving highway safety is collaborations between law enforcement and the scientific community to develop standards that are unbiased and potentially lifesaving.”

The post Stoned and driving? High THC levels might not mean you are impaired appeared first on Green Prophet.

“In a sense, we are all time travelers drifting through our memories, returning to the places where we once lived.” ~Vladimir Nabokov

I found it by accident, a grainy image of my childhood bedroom wallpaper.

It was tucked in the blurry background of a photo in an old family album, a detail I’d never noticed until that day.

White background. Tiny pastel hearts and flowers. A border of ragdoll girls in dresses the color of mint candies and pink lemonade.

My body tingled with recognition.

It was like finding a piece of myself I didn’t remember existed. Not the grown-up …

“In a sense, we are all time travelers drifting through our memories, returning to the places where we once lived.” ~Vladimir Nabokov

I found it by accident, a grainy image of my childhood bedroom wallpaper.

It was tucked in the blurry background of a photo in an old family album, a detail I’d never noticed until that day.

White background. Tiny pastel hearts and flowers. A border of ragdoll girls in dresses the color of mint candies and pink lemonade.

My body tingled with recognition.

It was like finding a piece of myself I didn’t remember existed. Not the grown-up me, but the girl I used to be before a career, a mortgage, and the heavy quiet of adult responsibility.

The Pull of the Past

When I was small, the world felt bigger in a softer way.

Colors seemed brighter, objects more alive, and the smallest things—the feel of my favorite stuffed animal companion in my hand, the scent of my mother’s bathwater—carried entire worlds of meaning.

These aren’t just memories; they’re sensory anchors.

I could forget a conversation from last week, but I can still picture the exact shade of the mint-green dress my wallpaper girl wore. I can still feel the gentle indentation of her printed outline, as if the wallpaper itself had texture.

These details, it turns out, were never gone. They were simply waiting for me to come back.

Nostalgia as a Regulation Tool

I didn’t realize until recently that revisiting those sensory anchors could calm my nervous system.

Of course, I know not everyone remembers childhood as safe or sweet. For many, those early years carried pain or fear. Some people find their sensory anchors in different chapters of life—a first apartment, a quiet library corner, or a beloved chair in adulthood. Wherever they come from, anchors can be powerful.

For me, nostalgia isn’t about wanting to live in the past. It’s about finding small pockets of safety I can carry into the present.

Touching the soft yarn hair of a Cabbage Patch Kid isn’t just cute, it’s grounding. Seeing those pastel hearts reminds my body what peace once felt like, and in that moment, I can feel it again.

A few months ago, one of my children was in the hospital for a week. Those days blurred together: the beeping machines, the too-bright lights, the smell of antiseptic in the air.

One afternoon, while she slept beside me in that cold plastic hospital chair, I scrolled on my phone and stumbled upon an online image of a toy I used to have. That single memory opened a door. I looked for another, and another. Each one reminded me of something else I had loved.

Before I knew it, I was mentally compiling a list of toys I’d like to find again, and how I might track them down.

That feeling—the rush of familiarity, the gentle spark of recognition—was more than just pleasant. It was regulating. In those moments of quiet, I felt a warmth that had been nearly forgotten.

When she woke and the noise and decisions returned, I carried that warmth in my belly like a hidden ember.

The Practice of Returning

Since then, I’ve begun weaving these cues into my home.

My shelf holds a cheerful line of 1980s toys in the exact colors I remember. At night, the soft glow of the wooden childhood lamp I sought out warms my space with a light that feels like safety.

These touches aren’t just décor; they’re part of my emotional toolkit.

When I feel overwhelmed, I step into that corner, touch the toys, take a slow breath, and remember who I was before life got so loud.

Some of my collection lives in my walk-in closet, tucked away just for me. I choose when and how to share it. Sometimes I don’t share it at all. That privacy feels important, like holding a small, sacred key that unlocks a door only I am meant to open.

This practice can look different for others. A friend of mine grew up with an entirely different story. His childhood was full of absence and stress, and he never had the GI Joes he longed for. Now, as an adult, he collects them one by one. For him, this is not nostalgia but repair, a way to heal by finally holding what once felt out of reach.

How You Can Try It

If you’d like to create your own version of a ritual of return, here’s how to begin:

1. Identify your sensory anchors.

Think about colors, textures, scents, or sounds from your happiest memories. If childhood feels heavy, look to other times. What do you remember most vividly? A kitchen smell? A favorite song? The feel of a well-loved blanket?

2. Find small ways to bring them back.

This doesn’t have to mean collecting big, expensive items. It could be a thrifted mug, a playlist of songs you loved at age eight, or a single scent that transports you.

3. Use them intentionally.

Place these cues where you’ll see or touch them often. Incorporate them into a morning or evening routine. Let them be part of how you calm yourself, not just pretty objects but companions in your present life.

Why It Matters

We can’t go back, and we don’t need to.

But we can return, in small ways, to the places inside us where we first felt safe, joyful, or whole.

For some, that means reclaiming the sweetness of childhood. For others, like my friend with his GI Joes, it means rewriting the story and creating what was once missing. Still others may anchor themselves in completely different seasons of life.

What matters is the act of returning to something steady, something that belongs to us now.

Each time we do, we carry a little more of that peace forward into the lives we are living now.

I’m still searching for that childhood wallpaper—online, in vintage shops, in the corners of the internet where people post long-forgotten designs. The search brings almost as much joy as the finding.

Because every time I search, I’m not just looking for wallpaper. I’m putting my hand on the door handle of memory. And when that door opens, I meet myself.

See more posts

Get in the conversation! Click here to leave a comment on the site.

Round homes ask us to rethink building conventions. Their curves offer comfort, efficiency, and surprising strength—but they require intentional window design. Whether you’re building in the desert, forest, or city fringe, one of these solutions will fit your climate, materials, and aesthetic.

The post How flat windows work on round and dome-shaped rooms appeared first on Green Prophet.

In an era when the climate crisis often feels abstract, distant, or buried beneath the data of carbon credits or financing mechanisms of COP30, a new artistic project from Brazil is cutting through the noise—literally—by turning one of the world’s most fragile ecosystems into a musical collaborator.

Pantanal Jam, a groundbreaking sound experiment created inside the world’s largest tropical wetland of Brazil, treats nature not as a backdrop but as a full artistic partner. The Pantanal—home to jaguars, giant otters, macaws, and more than 4,700 documented species—becomes both muse and musician, shaping the album’s rhythms, motifs, and improvisations in real time.

To understand the philosophy behind the project, Green Prophet spoke with Sandro Moreno, drummer, percussionist, and co-creator of Pantanal Jam.

His reflections reveal not only the making of an album but the emergence of a new ecological listening practice—one that invites humans to stop dominating nature’s soundscape and start collaborating with it.

Take the album “Espiral,” says Moreno. “At the very beginning of the track, a jaguar growls – not as a background effect, but as a participating artist. That growl shaped the pulse of the moment. It entered the rhythm like a beat, blending seamlessly with the percussion and setting the mood for everything that followed. It was wild, unexpected, and perfect.

“Throughout the album, this conversation with nature continues. Birds like the thrush, the Pantanal blackbird, the seriema, the hornero, the potoo, the ibis, macaws, and parakeets – they didn’t just inspire us. They played with us. Their calls, cries, and chatter became part of the music’s soul, interacting with our drums, guitars, and voices in spontaneous harmony.

“This wasn’t about layering nature sounds onto music in post-production. It was about playing with nature – responding to its rhythms in real time, allowing its unpredictability to shape our own.”

Musicians have long searched for ways to collaborate with the natural world, though few have taken it as far as Pantanal Jam.

Stevie Wonder experimented with field recordings and environmental textures on albums like Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants, one of the earliest mainstream attempts to treat nature as a co-composer rather than a backdrop.

If you love this kind of sonic ecology, you’ll probably also enjoy our stories about Plants that talk using sound and AI, how we might one day speak “dolphin”, and crickets composing the soundscape at the Venice Biennale.

Scientists and sound artists have also translated plant electrical signals into audible frequencies, creating “plant music” that reveals hidden rhythms in living organisms. And Björk, through projects like Biophilia, has blended natural processes, digital ecosystems, and experimental instrumentation to explore how the environment can shape melody, structure, and emotional tone.

Pantanal Jam emerges in this lineage but roots itself directly in a living biome, playing not about nature or around it, but with it in real time.

According to Moreno, when the group set out to create Pantanal Jam, they weren’t planning to simply compose music. They were planning to listen—deeply—to “one of the most biodiverse and magical places on Earth,” responding to it “in the most honest way we could: through sound.”

Moreno describes the concept as letting the living landscape lead: the wind, the water, the rustling trees, and most importantly the animals. These weren’t atmosphere or incidental texture. They acted as “fellow musicians,” their voices forming motifs that shaped the improvisations and guided the compositions.

For a percussionist, this demanded a different kind of listening. Moreno says rhythm exists everywhere in the Pantanal: in the lapping of water, the beating of wings, distant thunder, or dawn animal calls. Playing in that environment required letting go of control, responding intuitively, and allowing the environment to lead. It became less about performance and more about presence.

His description of the project extends beyond technique. Pantanal Jam, he says, is an invitation to reconnect with the earth through music, to experience the wild not as an accessory but as part of our own creative process. Art doesn’t have to dominate nature. It can dance with it.

This approach lands at a crucial environmental moment. The Pantanal is under escalating threat. Wildfires in recent years have burned unprecedented areas, droughts have intensified, and agricultural expansion continues to alter the wetland’s hydrology. Projects like Pantanal Jam do not pretend to solve these systemic issues, but they shift the cultural lens: they ask listeners to hear the biome as a living, expressive presence rather than a resource or backdrop.

By bringing listeners into this sound world, the project acts as both artistic innovation and subtle ecological advocacy. It reminds us that ecosystems are not silent. They speak constantly—if we listen.

::www.pantanaljam.com

The post Can a jungle jam? Brazil percussionist finds out appeared first on Green Prophet.

Scientists and sound artists have also translated plant electrical signals into audible frequencies, creating “plant music” that reveals hidden rhythms in living organisms. And Björk, through projects like Biophilia, has blended natural processes, digital ecosystems, and experimental instrumentation to explore how the environment can shape melody, structure, and emotional tone.

Pantanal Jam emerges in this lineage but roots itself directly in a living biome, playing not about nature or around it, but with it in real time.

The post Can a jungle jam? Brazil percussionist finds out appeared first on Green Prophet.

In an era when the climate crisis often feels abstract, distant, or buried beneath the data of carbon credits or financing mechanisms of COP30, a new artistic project from Brazil is cutting through the noise—literally—by turning one of the world’s most fragile ecosystems into a musical collaborator.

Pantanal Jam, a groundbreaking sound experiment created inside the world’s largest tropical wetland of Brazil, treats nature not as a backdrop but as a full artistic partner. The Pantanal—home to jaguars, giant otters, macaws, and more than 4,700 documented species—becomes both muse and musician, shaping the album’s rhythms, motifs, and improvisations in real time.

To understand the philosophy behind the project, Green Prophet spoke with Sandro Moreno, drummer, percussionist, and co-creator of Pantanal Jam.

His reflections reveal not only the making of an album but the emergence of a new ecological listening practice—one that invites humans to stop dominating nature’s soundscape and start collaborating with it.

Take the album “Espiral,” says Moreno. “At the very beginning of the track, a jaguar growls – not as a background effect, but as a participating artist. That growl shaped the pulse of the moment. It entered the rhythm like a beat, blending seamlessly with the percussion and setting the mood for everything that followed. It was wild, unexpected, and perfect.

“Throughout the album, this conversation with nature continues. Birds like the thrush, the Pantanal blackbird, the seriema, the hornero, the potoo, the ibis, macaws, and parakeets – they didn’t just inspire us. They played with us. Their calls, cries, and chatter became part of the music’s soul, interacting with our drums, guitars, and voices in spontaneous harmony.

“This wasn’t about layering nature sounds onto music in post-production. It was about playing with nature – responding to its rhythms in real time, allowing its unpredictability to shape our own.”

Musicians have long searched for ways to collaborate with the natural world, though few have taken it as far as Pantanal Jam.

Stevie Wonder experimented with field recordings and environmental textures on albums like Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants, one of the earliest mainstream attempts to treat nature as a co-composer rather than a backdrop.

If you love this kind of sonic ecology, you’ll probably also enjoy our stories about Plants that talk using sound and AI, how we might one day speak “dolphin”, and crickets composing the soundscape at the Venice Biennale.

Scientists and sound artists have also translated plant electrical signals into audible frequencies, creating “plant music” that reveals hidden rhythms in living organisms. And Björk, through projects like Biophilia, has blended natural processes, digital ecosystems, and experimental instrumentation to explore how the environment can shape melody, structure, and emotional tone.

Pantanal Jam emerges in this lineage but roots itself directly in a living biome, playing not about nature or around it, but with it in real time.

According to Moreno, when the group set out to create Pantanal Jam, they weren’t planning to simply compose music. They were planning to listen—deeply—to “one of the most biodiverse and magical places on Earth,” responding to it “in the most honest way we could: through sound.”

Moreno describes the concept as letting the living landscape lead: the wind, the water, the rustling trees, and most importantly the animals. These weren’t atmosphere or incidental texture. They acted as “fellow musicians,” their voices forming motifs that shaped the improvisations and guided the compositions.

For a percussionist, this demanded a different kind of listening. Moreno says rhythm exists everywhere in the Pantanal: in the lapping of water, the beating of wings, distant thunder, or dawn animal calls. Playing in that environment required letting go of control, responding intuitively, and allowing the environment to lead. It became less about performance and more about presence.

His description of the project extends beyond technique. Pantanal Jam, he says, is an invitation to reconnect with the earth through music, to experience the wild not as an accessory but as part of our own creative process. Art doesn’t have to dominate nature. It can dance with it.

This approach lands at a crucial environmental moment. The Pantanal is under escalating threat. Wildfires in recent years have burned unprecedented areas, droughts have intensified, and agricultural expansion continues to alter the wetland’s hydrology. Projects like Pantanal Jam do not pretend to solve these systemic issues, but they shift the cultural lens: they ask listeners to hear the biome as a living, expressive presence rather than a resource or backdrop.

By bringing listeners into this sound world, the project acts as both artistic innovation and subtle ecological advocacy. It reminds us that ecosystems are not silent. They speak constantly—if we listen.

::www.pantanaljam.com

The post Can a jungle jam? Brazil percussionist finds out appeared first on Green Prophet.

“Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we’ll ever do.” ~Brené Brown

Several years ago, I wrote a heartfelt letter to my estranged mother, articulating my deep feelings about her perceived lack of empathy and care. My intention in writing the letter wasn’t to ignite conflict; it was to sincerely share my perspective.

Rather than lashing out with blame, I expressed my profound sadness about feeling parentless and the struggle of raising myself without parental love and guidance, something I desperately needed at times.

I bared my soul, detailing the emotional turmoil …

“Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we’ll ever do.” ~Brené Brown

Several years ago, I wrote a heartfelt letter to my estranged mother, articulating my deep feelings about her perceived lack of empathy and care. My intention in writing the letter wasn’t to ignite conflict; it was to sincerely share my perspective.

Rather than lashing out with blame, I expressed my profound sadness about feeling parentless and the struggle of raising myself without parental love and guidance, something I desperately needed at times.

I bared my soul, detailing the emotional turmoil our relationship has had on me as an adult, and expressed the longing for connection that always seemed just out of reach.

After completing the letter, I did something I thought at the time was a bit reckless: I mailed it. Now looking back, I realize it was a courageous step toward advocating for my emotional health, confronting my truths head-on.

I had no expectations and was prepared for any outcome, including silence, which often felt like our norm. However, mailing it felt like a cathartic release and was undeniably liberating.

Months passed without a response. I had kept my expectations low but remained hopeful that perhaps she would reflect on what I had shared and gain some insight into our dynamic. Then, almost nine months later, I found myself at a family gathering out of state, and she was there. I had a vague notion that she might show up, but I hadn’t put too much thought into it.

A rush of panic enveloped me, especially knowing my children didn’t even recognize her. My husband supported me, rubbing my back to help me through the initial shock of seeing her after so many years.

As conversations swirled around me, I felt an odd sense of being at an event together yet acting like strangers. Though it wasn’t much different from before, I had openly shared a vulnerable part of myself in that letter, which she never acknowledged receiving.

During the gathering, we barely spoke; our unresolved past loomed between us like an unbridgeable chasm. As the event was wrapping up, my family and I collected our jackets to leave, and then she walked over to me.

With a sincere expression, she said, “You were right, and I’m sorry.” That was all that passed between us, and then I left. As I walked out the door, a wave of sadness crashed over me, not just from the validation but from the acknowledgment of our painful reality.

In that moment, I recognized that while the deep understanding I’d once yearned for might never materialize, that exchange marked a significant turning point in my healing journey.

Through this process, I learned invaluable lessons about boundaries—how to say no without guilt, to stop explaining myself, and to recognize when emotional distance is an act of self-respect rather than rejection. I discovered that safeguarding my emotional space was not just essential but necessary for my well-being.

Although my connection with my mother remains the same, my inner transformation has been profound.

I still grapple with sadness that my children will not know their grandmother, leaving me with a wound that is still healing. However, I have learned the art of giving and receiving love in healthier ways. I prioritize open communication with my children and partner, ensuring that their feelings are validated, something I wished for during my upbringing.

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have their experiences acknowledged. Many of us carry the weight of unvalidated pain, silently wishing for recognition that our feelings matter. The journey of writing a letter reinforced the power of self-love as a transformative force, even in the absence of answers or sincere apologies.

Self-love for me is about nurturing inner compassion for myself and understanding and recognizing the validity of my feelings, independent of external validation.

The seeds of self-love began to flourish in my twenties with small acts of kindness toward myself, moments of self-forgiveness, and the courage to question the beliefs I’d carried since childhood.

It was a crucial period when I started to challenge the idea that my worth depended on pleasing others, and I allowed myself to feel fully—to name and honor my emotions without shame or self-censorship.

During this time, I began seeing a therapist, which offered me a safe space to examine how my sense of worth had been shaped by my mother’s unpredictable affection and the silence that shaped me when it was withheld.

Books like Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson and The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown helped me understand and reframe these patterns, guiding me toward self-compassion and a more stable sense of self-worth.

With the support of a nurturing chosen family and the continued guidance of therapy, I’ve been able to unravel beliefs that no longer serve me—such as the idea that my worth depends on others’ approval, that my emotions should be contained to keep the peace, and that love must be earned through perfection or compliance. Letting go of these patterns has allowed me to reclaim my sense of self and to honor my feelings as both valid and necessary.

As I contemplate this recent encounter with my mother, I see the evolution of my perspective since I began advocating for my emotional well-being. I’ve come to understand the delicate balance between expectations and reality—the longing for a different kind of relationship coexisting with the acceptance of what is. It’s a balance that asks me to hold compassion for her limitations while still protecting my own heart.

Each lesson I’ve embraced about self-love has become foundational—learning to set boundaries without guilt, to speak my truth, and to treat myself with the same tenderness I once reserved for others.

These shifts have reshaped not only my relationship with myself but also how I engage with the world around me. Now, I give and receive love in healthier, more meaningful ways, ensuring that my relationships are grounded in mutual respect and appreciation.

This healing journey has profoundly shaped my approach to parenting. I aim to teach my children the significance of setting boundaries and advocating for their emotional well-being, rather than simply seeking to please others or maintain peace at all costs. They see a mother who is honest about her feelings and who takes care of herself instead of abandoning herself, which serves as a powerful lesson that goes beyond words.

While my relationship with my mother may never be what I hoped for, it has guided me toward a fuller sense of self and a more authentic, balanced way of loving. And I’m committed to continuing on this healing journey. I’ve unearthed the strength within me to heal and evolve—strength that exists independent of external acknowledgment.

See more posts

Get in the conversation! Click here to leave a comment on the site.