The Art of Nourishment in Leadership and Life

“We forgot that food is medicine.”

To the founders, leaders, and decision-makers shaping AI, clean tech, and the future of work—

You’re building systems that scale. Designing solutions that optimize. Pushing boundaries that didn’t exist ten years ago.

But let me ask you this:

👉 When was the last time you truly nourished someone? 👉 Not with a bonus or a Slack emoji—but with time, presence, or a meal?

Recently, someone told me that offering food wasn’t enough. It struck me deeply—because for years, nourishing others through home-cooked meals was one of the ways I led, loved, and showed up.

We live in a world where food is both everywhere and nowhere. With a few taps, we can summon any cuisine to our door. But somewhere along the way, we’ve devalued the act of feeding with care—and with it, forgotten a fundamental truth:

👉 To nourish is to lead.

When you cook for someone, you’re not just providing calories. You’re offering time, attention, and love. Every ingredient is chosen. Every step requires presence.

🍲 We Forgot That Food Is Medicine

Let’s be honest:

We get busy. We chase productivity. We caffeinate instead of connect. Energy drinks fill the void in our hearts where presence and real nourishment once lived.

We want to know how satisfied our customers are— but rarely stop to ask how nourished our teams feel.

We want full pockets— even as we ignore the cost to our collective wellbeing.

And in doing so, we forget that our best friends and cheerleaders are often our very own people— our coworkers, our children, our partners— and they need to be nourished daily to stay whole, happy, and aligned.

🧘♀️ Leadership as a Taste of Steadiness

Reading The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod reminded me: how we begin our day shapes how we show up in the world.

The same goes for leadership. The most impactful leaders aren’t loud—they’re consistent. They don’t just react—they prepare. They feed others with steadiness.

🧡 That’s what nourishment looks like. Not just in the kitchen. But in culture. In communication. In care.

Some companies have embraced this truth:

• Google provides free, healthy meals daily.

• Etsy built a rooftop garden and feeds its people with local food.

• Patagonia encourages outdoor breaks and brings dogs to work.

• Salesforce, Airbnb, Adobe, LinkedIn all invest in emotional wellness, shared rituals, and nourishment-first culture.

These aren’t perks. They’re strategy. Because when people are nourished, they give their best—out of belonging, not obligation.

📊 The Cost of Forgetting

In the U.S. today:

• 74% of adults are either overweight or obese.

• In New York: ~63%

• In California: ~60–65%

Even in “health-conscious” states, our disconnection from real nourishment is visible—on our plates, in our bodies, and in our hearts.

We forgot that food is medicine. We treat it like fuel, reward, punishment, or escape— everything except the healing ritual it’s always been.

Nourishment is not a luxury. It is a basic human need—one we’ve replaced with convenience and caffeine.

And in AI and clean tech, where the pace is accelerating and the stakes are high, we must design systems that don't just scale—but sustain.

💡 A Leadership Invitation

It is our responsibility— as parents, as founders, as managers, as community builders— to protect the human being in front of us.

And we do that by nourishing them: With presence. With attention. With rituals of care.

Just like food, leadership isn’t a performance. It’s a daily practice. A relationship with time, with intention, with trust.

To nourish is to lead. To lead with care is to protect what’s sacred. And sometimes, that protection starts with something as simple as a shared meal.

That’s how you build future success and future leaders— by brewing kombucha, making chicken soup, and preparing meals that serve the real needs of everyday life.

Because leadership doesn’t live in the boardroom alone— it simmers in the kitchen. It’s served at the table. And it grows in the hearts of those who are fed with love.

When I make a meal, you can be sure it’s made with pure love. And that is beyond any metric of “enough.”