Season 3 🧂🫚🧅🧄 Ep. 1

Good now,

I'm sitting on my kitchen floor right now, cross-legged, surrounded by more books than I probably need open at once. Burckhardt's on my left, spine cracked in three different places because I keep going back to the same pages. There's a candle burning that I lit without really thinking about it — it just felt right — and the wax is already starting to pool unevenly on one side.

I randomly got the idea to start Season 3 of the Self Series by chronicling my cooking skills as an Alchemist. Not only is it a reflection of my now; but it’s also a pretty cool play on words.

For a while now I've been going deep — deeper than I expected to go, honestly. I have books stacked on every surface. Lectures playing in the background while I cook, while I clean, while I fall asleep some nights with my phone still propped against a pillow.

And it's not just the books. My ancestors pointed me here first, before I had a single word for any of it. I've been watching other alchemists too — real ones, working in this physical realm, not just theorizing from a distance. People who aren't just aware of what they're doing, but confident enough to actually show it. Say it out loud. and let people watch.

That confidence did something to me. It's why I'm here right now, on this floor, telling you this instead of keeping it to myself the way I usually would. I want to be honest about that from the very first sentence. I'm not standing somewhere finished, looking back down at you from a place I've already arrived. I'm in it, right now, tonight, hands still a little restless from whatever I was just mixing. Some of it works exactly the way I thought it would. Some of it completely surprises me — I'll combine something and the answer comes back so fast, so clean, that I just sit there in the quiet afterward, kind of stunned. Like — okay. That was real. That just happened.

I want you to see all of it. Not the polished version but the actual one. The moments I can't stop smiling because something just confirmed itself right in front of me. The moments I have no idea what I just made and have to sit with it for days before it makes sense. The questions I still don't have answers to, written down honest and messy, before I've had the chance to clean them up.

This is me building something, live, from the floor of my own kitchen. And I'm letting you watch.

There's more coming. I have so much to show you.

Enjoy your now.