〰️ A savoury new verb

Because life’s better when we name stuff

Author

Karen Choi
May 23, 2025

Darling,

What does balming look like for you these days?

(Yes, we’re making it a verb! And a shoutout to Balm community member Liz for being the first to use balming in a complete sentence. 🙌)

Since we last gathered in April, balming for me has included:

  • Listening to a new friend’s travel stories during a two-hour walk along the beach

  • Indulging in a decadent tiramisu at Eataly with girly giggles and zero guilt

  • Crisping pork carnitas and chopping cabbage for a weekend with girlfriends

  • Laughing about the journey of saying “I love you” to stoic Chinese parents

  • Sinking into a hug

And between those sacred moments of social connection, I found more space in solitude. Like silences between notes, breaths between phrases, blinks between gazes—could balming be the source of true abundance?

  • Meditating and taking attendance of the feelings propping up my anger

  • Meeting the depths of my body for the first time during a breathwork journey

  • Listening to early morning bird songs on the dock at a warm Kawartha lake

  • Journaling my harshest criticisms, borrowed fears, and wildest dreams

  • Watching the river flow and the rain fall outside a pocket apartment window

Everyday, balm shows up in ordinary miracles—people, pauses, presence. Music, movement, meditation. Compassion, creativity, care. Courage, curiosity, connection.

If balm were in the dictionary…what would it say?

Here are a few definitions I’m playing with:

balm / balming [v.]
1. to be lit from within by love
2. to pause long enough to feel
3. to hold space for what is
4. to tend to the sacred ordinary
5. the opposite of doom-scrolling

See also: soft landings, emotional snacking, the best of human-ing

What would you add?

Reply to this email with your own definition or vote for your favourite above. I’ll share in the next letter.

And if you’re craving some collective balming—a pause from the noise, a return to your senses—join us for the next Soul Care Sunday on May 25.

✨ You’ll move gently, listen deeply, breathe, rest, soften
✨ Cello and piano music will fill you with tenderness
✨ Poetry and sunlight will land right where you are
✨ A room full of people who care deeply, but don’t need to say much
✨ A gentle reset to carry you through the week

🦥 Space for your wild, wondrous heart to feel whatever it needs to
🗓️ Sunday May 25, 10:30am-12pm
🎶 Cello by Rosy Zhang & Piano by Michelle Lau
📍 Society Clubhouse at 967 College St, Toronto
🎟️ 8 spots left! Book through Eventbrite

📖 Read for “momophobia”

Speaking of dictionaries and definitions, I recently came across this word “momophobia” in The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and this deeply embedded fear in me, felt seen.

n. the fear of speaking off the cuff or from the heart; the terror of saying the wrong thing and having to watch someone’s smile fade as they realize you’re not who they thought you were.

~ by John Koenig

🎶 Music for loosening the grip of borrowed fears and letting them float away…

💭 Imagine walking with a fear that taunted and teased you for all these years. 

Knowing you’re choosing to part ways. Maybe there’s some grief there. After all, it kept you company for so long, showed up exactly when you knew it would—a dreaded comfort. Watch that fear step into a row boat on the river and wave goodbye!

Wherever this finds you—rushing, resting, reaching—

I hope it gave you a little room to breathe, to balm…

With tenderness,
Karen

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