Stinging Nettle Teachings

There is a place near here, next to a meadow and gardens, along a brook, across from a school, next to a high rise apartment building. This place has two strong beech trees, and a beautiful flowering I don't know what kind of tree, Elder trees, planties- Stinging nettle, Butterbur, Blackberry, Meadow Geranium, Cinquefoil, Giersch, wild garlic, and others I have not yet met on a first name basis. I have been going there every few days to visit, ti sit by the brook, to talk with the planties, especially one of them who is  becoming a particular friend.

Today, when I arrived, I saw that a person had been all through there ripping up the nettle for their garden (nettle makes an amazing green manure, it is as good for the garden as it is for us). The whole right side between the path and the brook was ravaged, stalks of nettle stuck nakedly up into the air, frayed at the ends from being ripped rather than cut or snapped. From the looks of it, it happened either early this morning or yesterday afternoon.  I was shocked, like the earth and plants there as well, and I started to sing and pray and put my hands on the earth to listen to what had happened and how the plant community there was feeling. And I felt an overall numbness of shock, which at first I thought was my inability to tune in because of my upset, but as my own thoughts settled, there seemed to be the familiar life energy pulse and then a feeling of cotton batting over the whole area. And then, I asked the tree next to me to tell me. I had some overall images that corroborated my feeling for how the events had "played out" and then I heard very clearly, "they will grow again".   Not as a "oh get over yourself girl" response, rather the regenerative, unstoppable, spring coming again power of the earth roaring her truth. There was sadness too in how it had happened, but there was a clear imperative to GROW, that even though I could only see the destruction, was already at work. I was a bit stunned. In my naivete and human-centric thinking, I expected from the tree a whole gamut of human emotions of outrage and anger and sadness to grief. But then again, this is not a new behavior of the human species to thoughtlessly rip out what we want from the earth and leave, whether we are thinking we are doing something good, or not (like feeding a garden that will feed us, like harvesting plants to sell or to make medicine from or to eat).

I walked away from there a bit stunned, but also grateful, as always, to have heard a small glimpse of what the plant world is humming about. And as I walked towards home, I came upon a huge stand of nettle that was larger and healthier looking than the one I had just left, and I thought, oh, I can harvest nettle here. (One of the things I had wanted to do at my place, like times before, was to fill a bag full of nettle tops for lunch tomorrow.) And I asked if I could harvest there, and heard no strong answer either way, but a general openness, and I started to harvest. And to sing the song I usually sing to the planties when I harvest- Returning, returning, returning, to the mother of us all- very mindfully harvesting stinging nettle with my bare hands, which I should say, is not usually a problem, I know how to hold the leaves without getting stung. However, this time, I got a huge sting on my middle finger, when I came in contact with the plant. I can still feel it. And I kept harvesting. And moved through the stand of nettle to another place to get fresh tips and without taking all of the tips from one area, like I learned from my grandmother.

As I looked around to see where I would go next, it struck me like a bolt of lightening in the heart- I'm not doing anything different than the man who ripped the nettle out at my place. Plants were knocked down as I had made my way through the stand, big gaps in foliage were left behind. From the path later on, I would see no trace of having been there, a trick of perspective, but the fact was, I was exactly the same kind of perpetrator, only I was taking the plants to feed my belly directly rather than my garden. I heard suddenly the voice of Paul Bergner, who I had listened to in an interview on herbmentor.com, saying," You cannot take a plant from its home, and ask the spirit of that being to move somewhere else without explaining to the plant and to the creator why you need it and how much you want to take". And then you have to receive a yes. I had asked, but not explained, I had treated the plant as my servant, expecting it to give itself to me for my health without the dignity of explaining what I wanted to do and asking for permission. When I had asked,  I had taken general non-disagreement as perfunctory permission. But the nettle people had no idea what they were supposed to agree or not agree to, so of course there was no clear response! All of these thoughts went rapid fire through my consciousness and I began to cry and to speak to the nettle people.

I apologized, and asked for their pardon, for doing exactly what I had been so outraged about a moment before. I thanked them for the lesson, for stinging me with the truth, and for helping me to wake up. I shared my appreciation for them and I began to elucidate my request, to explain why I wanted to take a part of these beings from their home, attached to the rest of the plant, with me. And I got to the words, "and I want to bring you with me because....." and there was nothing more there to say. I could not say why I wanted to bring nettle with me other than, "because I want to eat you", which seemed rather paltry and somehow obvious and needed no stating. Why did I really want to bring nettle home with me and eat her into my belly? To bring wildness, to bring wakefulness, to heal my liver and kidneys and my skin problem. To learn about nettle from nettle and to learn what it is to have my food be my medicine and my medicine, my food. To eat all of these things into my belly along with my commitment not to make this mistake again. And to not just go randomly harvesting something- through joy and excitement and appreciation and love, for sure- but without explaining to the plant and the creator why I wanted to take this plant away from where she was and what I would do with her. And to wait until I had received an unequivocal yes, and only then would I harvest the amount I was given permission to harvest.

As I made my way back to the path, still weepy and sensitive, I felt the whole circle of the process come together. And as I continued along the path a little ways, I saw that there was another stand of nettle, bigger and healthier looking, right along the path! And I heard the words, "let us come to you, do not take what you have to go and get, but let us come to you". And I thought, oh no, I can't harvest more nettle after all of that. I stood there, on the path not knowing what to do. And I felt that the words I heard were truly an acceptance of my apology and intention and explanation and an invitation to harvest a little more. So I did, but only from those plants along the path that were facing in my direction and close enough to reach. The others I left there, and I thanked the nettle people for their offering.

Crossing the brook and turning away from her around the corner, I saw the nettle plants on the left hand side of the path had been mown down with a hand scythe and had been left there. And of course, this is the worst that can happen, cutting down a plant and leaving it there for no reason, without any relationship or use. The lesson was complete and I walked home to eat, to read, and to take a nap. Tomorrow, when I eat nettle lasagne, I will eat the Beauty, the viriditas, the vital force, the chi of the nettle people into my belly, becoming one with my blood, liver, kidneys, lymph, and hormones, and the minerals becoming a part of every cell in my body.

Thank you, nettle people, for the teaching. (And to soul flower farm for the photo)

Vitalism

Vitalism and herbal medicine 
Vitalism in healing is a clinical strategy based on the principle that Life, Nature, and the Great Spirit from which they arise are fully present in all the tissues of the body, and also in the psyche, the spiritual heart, and the soul, sustaining life and health, providing momentum for personal evolution on all levels, and for the fulfillment of the highest purpose in social and spiritual life. Vitalist practitioners employ clinical strategies and methods which support this life power through encouragement of nourishment, digestion, rest, and appropriate activity, identification of purpose in personal life, connection with nature, an active spiritual life, identification and removal of obstacles to cure on all levels, and avoidance of methods which suppress or distort life processes. The Vitalist incorporates all aspects of science, especially physiology and pathophysiology, but equally values knowledge from traditional medicine, empirical observation, instinct and intuition, and is not confined to the narrow materialistic world view that dominates much of modern science, medicine, and social life. Vitalist herbal medicine is the use of herbs in support of this approach and these processes. 


From the North American Institute of Medical Herbalism Website, founded by Paul Berger, Boulder Colorado

Folk Herbalism

“Folk herbalism is the people’s medicine, tried and true, shaped by the land,  driven by the healthcare needs of its inhabitants, and handed down through the generations by mouth and pen. Its vocabulary is that of geography, the plants, the elements, the earth and the sky. At its most glorious, folk herbalism heals the people and the land in one motion, because we really can’t separate the two. What happens to the land is reflected in health of our bodies, minds and spirits and folk herbalism acknowledges this interdependence. Without folk herbalism, we would be lost in a vast sea of corporate, pharmaceutical care. Lost without the herbal traditions that bring balance to this one-sided form of medicine, and lost without the understanding of the inter-connectiveness of the human body.

Folk herbalism is the yin to conventional medicine yang. It’s roots are deep, feminine and, and intuitive. And though it’s form may change over time and within cultures, its roots stay strong, viable and hardy. It will never die.” –Phyllis Light

Two great blogs

Check out the folks and recipes as The Perennial Plate, they are dedicated to sustainable and adventurous eating, traveling around gathering recipes and talking to folks who fish, hunt, pick tomatoes, and learning from them about where food comes from and how it is prepared.

Please watch Episode Lupe Gonzalo, tomato picker and activist with the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (CIW) in Florida. As Barry Estabrook wrote in his book, Tomatoland: “Any American who has eaten a winter tomato, either purchased at a supermarket or on top of a fast food salad, has eaten a fruit picked by the hand of a slave. That is not an assumption, it is a fact (Douglas Molloy, US Attorney for Florida’s Middle District).” “Immokalee,” as Estabrook continues. “Is the town that tomatoes built.” Florida supplies 1/3 of America's tomatoes.

From the article that accompanies the 5 minute film, "...each bucket of tomatoes a worker fills (roughly 32-35 lbs) still gets them around only $0.45. Forty Five Cents. And they are picking green tomatoes — as in, tomatoes that are not ripe. If you live in Florida and ever find yourself behind a tomato truck, you probably wouldn’t know it as the fruit is completely unrecognizable. The tomatoes are picked green so that they can be gassed with chemicals to turn red and then shipped to other areas of the country." One question: Why do we want to eat tomatoes in winter that taste like styrofoam?

And for another kind of activism, check out  The International Supper Club, two folks riding their bikes 15,000 miles across Eurasia, documenting people and what they eat.

Food as Medicine

One of the problems with posting on this blog, is that I often don't have the time or patience to take a picture of whatever it is i am cooking or describing to post on the blog, so therefore i don't write at all. strange, but there you have it. For example, I just made Baerlauch (wild garlic or ramps) butter and pesto in my beautiful mortar and pestle which i received for my birthday last year. In the pesto I put Wild garlic, basil olive oil leftover from a bottle I made last year that I had put greek basil from my garden into for two months of steeping before storing, an aged goat's cheese called Geissenpeter that is made about half an hour from here, salt, pepper, walnuts from an Abbey near Bamberg that we bought last December, and some anchovies that I brought back from the states last year when we visited in October. We'll eat with pasta this week- either spinach pasta that i make or store bought- and sun-dried tomatoes from a friend's garden. Beautiful dark green, a small jar of gold full of things connected to place or memory or person. And I did not take any pictures to give you. Maybe I will of the meal that I make later on in the week.

Food is becoming not only an art medium and creative outlet, but also a medicine over the last two months. Another reason I have not been writing is because I have been reading so much and learning so much and cooking in new ways, or in ways I already knew but did not do too much of. Having Rosacea and a bunch of digestive issues, food allergies, and probably some adrenal exhaustion from the 8 years at the Buddhist center and the move to another country, I finally decided to stop the eating whatever I want diet, although I have really enjoyed it, and move to the eating what is good for my body so I can thrive diet. Which, except for holidays and social events, I enjoy more. And it is a slow process, figuring out what is good for me and what isn't, what will heal my gut and my face and what won't. And I would say I am only about a third of the way there. As a part of my herbal studies, food as medicine, as a friend wrote to me this morning, is becoming a large part of how I work with plants. It is for sure the way in which I am the most competent. And slowly incorporating plants into food, tea, vinegar and oil, is a way that I can easily pass on information and learnings to others. ANd it is always an individual process of what works and what doesn't, what feeds and what challenges beyond capability.

Most of the herbal teachers I have read so far (about 20) agree that food and diet are a huge aspect of working with herbs and a traditional method of healing. That in fact, if a person has a diet that is not nourishing them, and even more so if it is a diet that is actually harming them, herbs will be little if no use in healing whatever it is that a person sees as "wrong" about them. Which is, of course, a whole other topic for another time. Food is a spiritual experience, a connection and communion with plant, animal, place and people. That is why the image, for example, of the last supper or of the weekly church ritual of sharing bread and wine is so powerful for people. That is why every feast day is called exactly that, a day of a feast. It is difficult to go to an easter meal and say, no, I don't eat sugar, chocolate (unless it is raw), bread, gluten, cow's millk, processed foods, oils except for olive and animal fats, and could I please have a big bowl of vegetables? Which is why I only have problems with my "diet" when I am with people who don't eat the way I do. Culture is steeped in the history, ritual, tradition, and practice of preparing and eating certain foods and avoiding others. And I am, yet again, out of the box of the (German) culture. Which is not new. And it is a challenge to explain, no I am not dieting, I am eating for my health. I know it is probably delicious, but I choose not to eat it. I am happy to smell it and I take pleasure from your enjoying it. I know that I am giving up hundreds of recipes from Julia Child's cookbook. I know that I am cleaving whole sections of european cuisine out of my repetoire. I know. and I'll live. In fact, the whole point is to live better, live healthier, live whole in my own being.

It is a strange act of courage to stand apart from the tidal wave of a culture's eating traditions. No bread? WHAT do you eat? And there is a also a small amount of ego in there who thinks she knows better, it is true, but mostly it is the willingness to finally take care of my own self and my own body and my own me, which seems to be the next onion layer in the ever ongoing lesson of how-to-be-a-grown-up-and-get-over-my-etc. SO, in celebrating that when we were in Italy last week, I bought myself two dresses (i have never done that before) one for the spring/fall made of wool and silk, designed and hand sewn by an italian woman in a little shop that I was in, and one for summer- with huge prints of red poppies all over a white background, marilyn monroe style with a tie in the back of the neck. and that one i will definitely post a picture of!