Raw Brownies — The Recipe I Make When the Practice Holds

The week after the panic attack. I went back on the medication. The same SSRI, the same dose — 20mg, the original, the full amount. The doctor prescribed it within the hour. The pharmacist filled it within the day. The pill was in my hand by Thursday evening, the small white tablet that I have taken for twenty-four years and stopped taking for four months and am now taking again, and the taking-again is not failure. The taking-again is information. The information is: I need this. The needing is not weakness. The needing is biology. The biology is not optional.

I made miso soup. Of course I made miso soup. The miso soup is the constant, the thing I made when I started the medication at fifteen and the thing I made when I stopped it at thirty-nine and the thing I am making now that I have restarted it at thirty-nine. The miso soup does not judge the medication. The miso soup does not judge the experiment. The miso soup is the practice and the practice holds regardless of the pharmaceutical decisions of the woman who makes it.

I wrote the blog post: "The Pill and the Mat." The post was about the experiment and the result and the panic attack and the return to medication. The post was about how the pill and the yoga mat and the miso soup are all necessary, all load-bearing, and removing any one of them risks collapse. The post was about needing both: the Western medicine and the Eastern practice, the chemistry and the ritual, the pill and the mat. The post was the most honest thing I've ever written, which is saying something for a woman who has been writing honestly for ten years.

The post generated more mail than anything I've published, including the New York Times essay. The mail was from people who take pills and who practice yoga and who do both and who feel guilty about the pills and who should not feel guilty about the pills and who needed someone — anyone — to say: the pill is not a failure. The pill is a success. The pill means you are alive. The alive is the success. The alive is enough.

Miya hugged me that night and said, "Mama, are you okay?" I said, "I am now." She said, "Was it the scary thing?" (She knows about panic attacks — I've explained them, age-appropriately, as "sometimes Mama's body gets scared for no reason.") I said, "Yes, the scary thing. But it's done now. The medicine is helping." She said, "Good. I like you with the medicine." The sentence was simple and devastating: I like you with the medicine. The preference for the medicated mother is the preference for the calm mother, the present mother, the mother who does not cry at TV commercials and does not shake in parking lots. The preference is Miya's truth. The truth is: the pill makes me a better mother. The pill is the parenting. The parenting is the pill. Both are the love.

The miso soup was the constant, but after Miya said what she said — I like you with the medicine — I needed something sweet, and I needed it to be honest in the way that the week had been honest: no performance, no heat, no pretending. Raw brownies are that. Dates and nuts pressed together into something that tastes like a reward without requiring you to be okay enough to stand at a stove. I have made them at fifteen and I have made them at thirty-nine and I will probably make them again, and the making is the practice, and the practice holds.

Raw Brownies

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes + 30 minutes chilling | Servings: 16

Ingredients

• 2 cups pitted Medjool dates (about 20 dates, softened)
• 1 cup raw walnuts
• 1/2 cup raw almonds
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons almond butter (optional, for extra richness)
• 1/4 cup dark chocolate chips or cacao nibs, for topping (optional)

Instructions

1. Soften the dates. If your dates are firm, soak them in warm water for 10 minutes, then drain and pat dry. They should be soft enough to press easily between your fingers.
2. Process the nuts. Add the walnuts and almonds to a food processor and pulse 8–10 times until coarsely ground. You want texture, not flour — stop before it becomes a paste.
3. Add cocoa and salt. Add the cocoa powder and sea salt to the food processor. Pulse a few times to combine with the ground nuts.
4. Add dates and vanilla. Add the pitted dates, vanilla extract, and almond butter (if using). Process on high for 60–90 seconds until the mixture begins to clump and pull away from the sides. When you press a small amount between your fingers and it holds together, it’s ready.
5. Press into pan. Line an 8×8-inch baking dish with parchment paper. Transfer the mixture into the pan and use the back of a spoon or your hands (slightly dampened) to press it firmly and evenly into the pan. Scatter chocolate chips or cacao nibs on top and press them gently into the surface.
6. Chill and cut. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to firm up. Lift out using the parchment paper and cut into 16 squares with a sharp knife. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks, or freeze for up to two months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 145 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 35mg