Usually I write with the intention of being positive, because there's far too much sad stuff in life as it is. Nobody needs more. I also make the conscious choice to write about plants or the topic of survival, external things, rather than about myself.

I did this painting one night in the spring of '09. It was just an abstract expression of what was inside me at the time, not consciously intended to be anything else. But now that I have seen the Norway spiral pictures, I'm noticing an uncanny resemblance. I think maybe the painting was a prophetic synchronicity. What do you think? Is it just another spiral, or do you, too, see something deeper?

Here you are on Earth, your one shot at this life, your one shot at being who you are in this body in this place at this time. Maybe you chose to be here, maybe it just happened this way, but either way here you are now, a spirit incarnated as a human at one of the most exciting times you could ever live.

What if you could walk up to a plant you’ve never seen before and know immediately what it is and what it can do for you? This isn’t the stuff of fantasy — it’s really possible!

The botanist Thomas J. Elpel is known for his “Botany In A Day” books about the secret tricks anyone can use, even a total beginner.

My aim was to reveal hidden abundance and show that the Earth feeds us naturally. We don't have to dominate the land to get what we need. Our ancestors understood this. To paraphrase my friend Ariel Marguiles, "The sun warms the Earth and never once does it say, 'But what did you ever do for me?' " The Earth gives us living gifts of food and medicine and asks nothing in return.

It's going super well! I am light and clear, as if I've been doing a cleanse. I can feel an energetic difference. My vibration is higher, and last night there was something going on in my third eye and heart chakra.

I've got two more days left (including today). Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Here's what's happened so far:

*Day Five: Oyster mushrooms and the Wapato Shimmy

How I prepared: On roadkill, foraging by the season and the value of a “tribe”