Returning to Kombucha: A Lesson in Patience, Nourishment, and New Beginnings
- bjaucoin
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
There was a time when I made my own kombucha at home. I had the jar, the bottles, the SCOBY, and the rhythm of it all. Then, before Ray and I were preparing to leave for China, we decided to purge what we wouldn't need for 2 years. We worked hard to let go of the extras, clear space, and prepare ourselves for a new adventure.
As you all know, that adventure did not happen.
Instead, I was grounded by the diagnosis of stage IV breast cancer. Life changed quickly. The carefully planned plans we had shifted in a direction we never expected. The jars and bottles were gone, and so was the life we thought we were stepping into.
Move the clock ahead three years.
During the winter months, Ray and I are blessed to live in Costa Rica. Like here in Nova Scotia, we are surrounded by beautiful farmers markets filled with fresh, local, nourishing foods. One of the people I came to look forward to seeing was Dina, a wonderful entrepreneur who makes both kombucha and jamu with skill, creativity, and care.
Her flavours were beautiful. Basil and strawberry. Lemon and ginger. Pineapple and mango. And many more delicious combinations that felt bright, alive, and deeply nourishing.
When I returned home from Costa Rica, I felt well. I had spent months eating fresh organic foods, enjoying local fruits and vegetables, drinking nourishing beverages, walking, resting, and soaking in the warmth of the sun. My body felt supported by simple, real foods and mindful choices.
That is when I decided it was time to return to making kombucha.
Part of the decision was practical. Kombucha can be expensive to buy. But more than that, I wanted to know exactly what was going into it. I wanted to make sure it was not filled with added sugars, processed ingredients, or anything unnecessary. I wanted to return to a simple practice that would support my body and remind me of the value of patience.
And of course, I did not do this alone.
I had the help of my girlfriend Jane, who is both a scientist and an amazing preserver, baker, and food maker. She is one of those women who understands food, chemistry, timing, and care. In many ways, she reminds me of a 1950s version of Elizabeth Zott from Lessons in Chemistry. Calm, capable, curious, and always able to explain the “why” behind what she is doing.
On Sunday, I began my first fermentation.
There is something meaningful about beginning again. Making kombucha is not instant. It asks us to prepare the tea, add the sugar, cool it carefully, introduce the starter, place the SCOBY gently inside, cover the jar, and wait. It cannot be rushed. It must be watched, tasted, and trusted.
In that way, kombucha feels a little like life.
We prepare as best we can.
We adjust when plans change.
We wait through uncertain days.
We trust that something good may still be forming, even when we cannot see the whole process.
Before China, I let go of my kombucha supplies because I thought I was preparing for one kind of future. Cancer changed that future. But three years later, here I am, beginning again in a new way, with a new jar, a new batch, and a renewed appreciation for what it means to nourish the body, mind, heart, and spirit.
When this first fermentation is finished, I will begin with one of my favourite flavour combinations: strawberry and basil. It feels like the perfect blend of sweetness, freshness, and summer.
I have attached the recipe I am using, along with some life lessons related to making and drinking kombucha. For me, this is more than a recipe. It is a reminder that wellness often begins with small choices. A jar on the counter. Fresh fruit from the market. A mindful pause. A willingness to begin again.
Kombucha is a living drink. It changes over time. So do we.
If you have ever wanted to try making kombucha at home, I invite you to begin with me. Start simply. Be patient. Notice the process. Enjoy the flavour. Let it become one small ritual of care.
Your gut and body may thank you for it. And perhaps your spirit will too.
As you begin this week, here are a few reflective questions to ask yourself.
Mind: What is one practice that helps you slow down and become more intentional?
Body: What simple, nourishing choice can you make this week?
Heart: Who has helped you begin again after a season of change?
Spirit: Where in your life are you being asked to trust the process?
Sometimes healing is not found in doing something big. Sometimes it is found in returning to a small practice that reminds us we are still here, still growing, still creating, and still rising.
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