I found myself in the Southern California desert earlier this week—driving a last-minute rental car I booked one way from Palm Springs to Oakland.

For roughly half a decade, I’ve attended the same conference every winter—I started going in 2014, right after I quit my 9-5 and was living in Minnesota; blogging and planning our wedding. I didn’t fully know what I was doing but I was writing every day and I was happy. I freelanced and temped as a receptionist and dreamed of my blog paying all the bills. I went to Salt Lake City that January and learned so much that I came home exhausted and overwhelmed in the best way imaginable—with a journal full of notes and a wallet full of business cards and a plan.

That conference really, truly changed my life.

Fast forward to last weekend and I was packing my bag for a week at the same conference, just in a new location. I felt the same in many ways but also so incredibly different. Goodness, how my life has changed in five years—one wedding, three huge moves, one dog, four cookbooks, one baby. Every morning I wake up feeling simultaneously blessed beyond measure and burnt out—excited to spend another day with my daughter but wondering when that spark might light itself again in the back of my mind where essays and recipes and #contentcreation used to overflow; when I might not only dream again about writing, but actually do it.

I started talking to anyone who would listen about how badly I needed this week away to refocus, get re-energized, and find inspiration. “I just want to get inspired” came out of my mouth so much that I started to annoy even myself. But it was true—I felt desperate for inspiration. I still kind of do.

On Sunday morning I landed in Palm Springs and immediately felt a shift. I slid my sunglasses onto my face and felt the sun beaming down on me, so happy that I had braved the cold damp sidewalks of SFO in sandals earlier that morning. My heart jumped as my sweet friend Kristan came around the corner in her car to scoop me and my bag and we were off, driving the short distance to our hotel where, within a half hour, we were sitting by the pool, drinks in hand, waiting for the conference to begin—waiting for inspiration to strike.

The conference was not what I expected this year, and I found myself feeling overwhelmingly disappointed and lost. So, after about 36 hours, I decided to do something I never thought I would do: leave.

I wanted to make the most of my time but through every overcrowded session and late shuttle I couldn’t stop thinking about my word for 2019–purpose.

“Does it help me reach a goal? Does it make me happy? Does it serve my family or someone I care about? Do I come out on the other side burned out or resentful? Will it make me a better mom, wife, friend, writer, person? I want to live a life full of choices and work that makes me happier, healthier, more kind, more skilled, more thoughtful. ”

Would I regret staying and leaving disappointed, feeling like I had wasted even more time? Or should I cut my losses and get back to my family at home, where my husband was missing time at the office and we were paying our nanny to be there four days instead of two? Luckily Kristan felt the same and we cancelled the rest of our hotel stay, I rented a car, and we planned for her to drop me off at the airport the following day. Immediately I felt lighter.

It’s a privilege to be able to say no to things that you originally said yes to, but it’s one I didn’t want to waste. We went to a sponsored yoga class the morning of our departure and as I stood there barefoot in the grass behind the Parker Palm Springs, listening to the instructor tell us how blessed we were, I felt it. Tears in my eyes, hands on my heart, the Universe truly reached out and told me it was time to go home.

And that’s how I came to spend 8 hours alone on the road on a Tuesday afternoon. And as I drove over those majestic desert mountains for the first time, windows down, music blasting, the arid heat whipping through my hair, I realized that maybe there is no magic “press for inspiration” button—maybe sometimes you just have to find it yourself.

It’s time for another old recipe reshoot! I think cauliflower is one of the most boring vegetables out there, but I do love it roasted. If you use enough fat and high enough heat you can get it really nice and crispy, and because it’s so bland it does really well with almost any flavor and seasoning—in this case a generous amount of curry powder.

My mom used to make this roasted curry cauliflower a lot when I lived at home after grad school, and I always forget how simple and delicious it is. We don’t use curry nearly enough, but every time I break it out of the spice drawer I’m always so glad I did. Originally we used coconut oil but I actually like this recipe more with olive oil—if you have some melted ghee that would actually probably be the tastiest. If you’re a big fan of coconut oil, though, go for it! I just personally don’t love it in savory recipes.

Ingredients:

• 1 large head of cauliflower

• 1/4 cup olive oil

• 2 tablespoons of curry powder

• Salt and pepper, to taste

• 1/4 teaspoon of crushed red pepper (or more/less depending on preference)

• Green onion or cilantro, for garnish

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Wash and chop cauliflower—I like to slice it straight down from the top so that the pieces are more flat and have a little bit of stem holding them together (I think it makes them crunchier in the oven!).

2. Transfer cauliflower to a baking sheet. Drizzle olive oil over the vegetables and sprinkle curry powder. Use your hands to mix everything really well, ensuring that each piece is covered with oil and curry powder. Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with crushed red pepper.

3. Bake at 400 for 20-25 minutes. Serve topped with chopped green onion or cilantro.

I love this cauliflower as a side dish with some grilled chicken, on a bowl of steamed rice, or even on its own as a snack. You can make it as spicy or as mild as you’d like! I hope you love it—let’s all make a pact to eat more vegetables this spring and summer!

That first morning you leave the house without a sweater.

The way sunscreen feels on your skin on a warm afternoon walk.

Napping on a Saturday with the windows open.

The smell of fresh-cut grass at the park as you push an excited toddler on the swings.

A bouquet of flowers in a vase on the counter of a sunny kitchen.