Where the Wound Finds a Garden

sweet ones,

it’s been almost two years since i last tickled this particular web of connection. there are a lot of reasons why i have been quiet. 

the sweeter explanations are tied to parenting with presence to my almost 12 yr old!, going to school to keep nourishing and flexing my lifelong-student self, writing and completing my first poetry manuscript, & doing good ass meaningful work through my full time gig with the northeast farmers of color land trust. 

the sharper explanations are tied to inhabiting a lifelong chronically ill body, traversing a world that feels uglier and more oppressive and violent than ever before, & processing pain of all shapes and forms {physical, mental, spiritual, emotional, psychic, ancestral}

the explanation that lives somewhere in the duality of it all is that deep down i am a behind the scenes bitch. while on a walk in the woods recently, i stopped to marvel at each wet and rusty faded leaf that composed the forest floor. sure, there were many flashy beings making an appearance on the walk, like a brightly colored flush of Pleurotus citrinopileatus and the wild sarsaparilla just emerging from the ground, but my attention stayed with the leaves. their purpose so integral to every aspect of the ecosystem, yet often forgotten or overlooked for their age and the sheer volume of ordinary space they hold. in a lot of ways, i feel like one of those weathered, wet, and decomposing leaves- happy to be one of many, tethered together with quiet purpose. 

***

i know so many of us are carrying wounds that feel impossible to mend ~ just when the honey begins to do its work, another blow slows the remedial healing. this is a part of the plan. overwhelm. distract. drown us in our pain & wounds. keep us in our fear bodies. i am choosing to turn towards the pain. to integrate all of the complexity of embodying my personhood vs. disassociating from the world as a survival mechanism when i am desperate to touch joy. so, on the cusp of this scorpio full moon growing in the sky, i thought i’d share some practices and remedies that have been holding me up as i face the barefaced bruises. carrying you in the grains of my prayer <3

with love spores & pregnant spiders, mandana

nettle medicine ~ nettles rise with spring, fierce and verdant. laced with sting yet brimming with purpose. ancient healers dressed in thorns, offering pain to draw out pain. for aching joints, sorrowed hearts, & souls bruised, nettles stir the blood, awaken our will, and remind our bodies of its inner green flame. in spring, when the land stirs from sleep and the sap runs, nettles teach us that healing is not always gentle, that sometimes, they must prick us awake. add some nettle leaf to your soup or creamy pasta sauce, drink a quart jar of nettle infusion, craft a nettles infused herbal vinegar, and maybe give yourself a lil intentional nettles sting ;)

hands in the dirt ~ be a missionary of the earth. move not with scripture but with soil beneath your nails and seeds in your palm. the land speaks in multitudes, and we answer with care—tending roots, casting seed, leaving pecan treats and shiny gifts for the crows who share the land with us. plant what heals, what feeds, what remembers. each garden is a prayer, each seedling a vow: to do our part in tending the sacred rhythm of life, always rising and falling, sky to ground.

creation ~ creation is how we slip through the cracks. a needle pulling thread is a form of protest. poems don’t need a podium, they just need breath, a corner of light. making queer consensual love is a rebellion too, bodies saying yes in a world that keeps saying no. we make things to remember we’re alive, to remember our hands are tools, our voices still carry, even when the world is working to actively censor and erase us. sewing, singing, cooking, painting, writing, playing—all of these forms of creation mend what they try to unravel. 

building skills ~ i’m of the opinion that learning should feel like coming home. not just facts stacked on a zoom screen, but stories passed hand to hand like seeds. i feel my best when i am immersed in learning spaces, whether a formal training or in a free school environment. there are so many ways & styles to learn a new skill, game, hobby, or deepen our thought ecology. one of my favorite resources for learning is at my local library. what’s your library offering these days? libraries are open public spaces, a third place that has successfully operated as an intergenerational community literally forever. our libraries are under attack, so there is no better moment to join the book club or weekly mahjong game happening at yours.  also want to shout out wild gather’s Seeds of Herbalism program, which we are sunsetting after an incredible 9 year run…🥹

“When we first convened in 2015 to dream up our school, Wild Gather, we carried with us all of the learning, lessons, and educational experiences that helped shape our living-ethos of how we relate and engage with plant medicine. 

Seeds of Herbalism allowed us to honor our shared cultures ~ the elders who first taught us the medicinal virtues of cardamom and garlic, and offered a compassionate container for our worldview to grow and evolve. This program has been a potent medicine- a place to gather, heal, laugh, craft remedies and co-create solutions to a broken healthcare system. Since 2016, we've had the incredible privilege of receiving 8 cohorts of brilliant and badass humans, who trusted us to be a step along the way of their herbal education. It's been amazing to see the ways students have woven their herbalism practices into their midwifery care, social work, community organizing, farm plans, massage and acupuncture clinics, and beyond! The ripples of this program will forever be a wildflower garden blooming and self-seeding in our hearts.

Seeds of Herbalism began in 2016, and has been a steady anchor throughout political turmoil, global pandemic, and an ever sharpening turn towards fascism. The tools, recipes, and knowledge packed into the program are more relevant and needed than ever. Before we sunset our baby, we wanted to extend the opportunity to kiss this sweet gift with us once more. Take it for the first time, or again to freshen up your skills. Do it yourself or with a group of friends.”