don’t be an herbal enabler~! April 8, 2013

Have you ever had a client come in and ask you for help with foot pain? “I need something for my feet! They hurt every time I wear these shoes!” Or indigestion-”help! Whenever I eat hot weiners I get terrible indigestion. I need herbs!” Do you give them something? Do you give out salves for skin fungus? “Herbal antibiotics” for colds? Alleged Fat burning herbs to lose weight? If so, you may be an herbal enabler.

It’s OK, I understand. It is very common to want to help others! But in order to really kick ass, it helps to treat underlying causes. If someone gets foot pain from high heels, they don’t need a salve. They need flats. If someone wants palliative care for their ulcer but can’t/won’t deal with stress that induces it, they need support and a nervine, not  just “ulcer tea”. If someone gets recurring infections, they may need air flow or movement rather than an “antifungal cream”.  

We do ourselves and our clients a disservice when we let them off the hook too easily. When we don;t ask questions, when we “don’t go there”. Dudes, it’s time to go there. Insomnia? Ask about mommy issues, exercise, food, sexuality. Light pollution, safety, dreams.Talk about sugar, talk about screen time, talk about fear and shame, talk about classism and racism. Relationships. Addictions. Trauma.

It’s time for us to say : Hey, maybe you don’t need a salve for that rash? Maybe you need to take a daily walk, solve a longterm problem, switch to cotton underpants or as herbalist Rebecca Altman geniusly calls it “tree time”. Outside time. Earth time. A notebook and pencil, a chair in the shade.

I am not saying we should withhold palliative care and force our clients to conform to our ideas of what is up. Quite the opposite, as we sometimes must palliate as a step towards something else. But that is all-a step, not the end.
We as herbalists have a responsibility to ask questions, to be obnoxious if needed,(and it IS needed) to observe and point out patterns, to explore those places where it hurts to go. We need to do our job, as problem solvers, as jesters or as shapeshifters, a job that is as old as dirt but is now mainly filled by a few remaining great comedians.
It helps noone to abdicate our responsibilty, it is a copout to hand out some cream and see ya later. We CAN tell people “you are beautiful”. We can tell people “I hear you”. We can point out that the emperor wears no clothes, that they are not insane, that they are not “toxic”, that the pain of this world is real, that they CAN let go. That we are all in this together and hell we’re all stardust anyway, so Gimme a freaking hug.
We can point out the relationship between having a great ad and your product being crap, between fancy packaging and actual content. We can talk about the follies of Dr Phil, Dr Oz, overmedication, New age bullshit, pubmed, repression, “some guy on the internet”, the “last 10 pounds”, and expensive green cleanses. We can dive into the places where fear takes us, and come out better for it.
For like it or not we are on the fringe. It’s called alternative medicine, so act like it. Be the alternative. Be flexible, Ask why. 1,000 times. Kick some ass, my friends, stop waiting around for a certificate or someone else’s approval and dive in, ask questions. and don’t be afraid to hear the answers.

portrait of the herbalist as a fly in the ointment February 5, 2013

In the vast world of plant medicine, which is difficult to define and harder still to contain, indivuduals must find their own roles. To be an “expert” on all plants is like being an expert on every single planet in the entire solar system-absurd! Impossible! Yet one could seek to be very very good at first aid, nutrition, botany or teaching. I, however, am not. I am not particularly good at writing monographs or nutritional counseling. I suck at making formulas and keying out species. So what’s my niche? Questioning everything.

I did not become an herbalist to sell stuff, to make friends or to be nice. I got into herbalism becasue a giant green hammer was pounding in my brain, leading me outside and into the arms of the plants. I am a fly in the ointment and I have learned to stop fighting that role and embrace it. I am the drunken bridesmaid of herbalism, the elephant in the room, knocking stuff over and crying at inappropriate times.
I question becasue I believe herbalism is an explosion, a compost pile, hot inside, constantly growing and changing, expanding and making a mess. I believe herbalists are red wrigglers eating crap and giving back black gold,and I believe the transformational possibilites are endless.
We can choose to embrace this or not, and neither is right or wrong for everyone.
But should we give simple answers to simple questions? That is up for each to decide, but I believe mostly no-we may do a disservice to others by asnwering oversimplified “what’s good for x” type questions. This fly wants to teach you HOW to learn, not what to do. I do not want to make a sale or make friends, I want to push people a little, to make folks think–I myself have been offended by words that later, upon reflection, changed my life.
Often we are taught to never rock the boat, to give short answers, sound bites and polite euphemisms. School, work, institutions, “check this box!” Well, fuck that! Are we trying to spark people, to change the world? Or are we more concerned with offending someone? Are we more afraid to challenge others and ourselves?
Herbalism is not an ossuary. There is no one master list where we look up this for that. Herbalism is a bullet train full of green revelers, hurtling through space, a dynamic and evolving force. herbalism is resistance, resilience, evolution. We are artisans practicing a craft-practicing for life-never mastering. For an artist can master painting a still life, over and over, 3 pears and a vase of flowers until it’s perfect. But every single living thing is different and awesome and every herbal interaction is a dance between herbalist and plant medicine, between client and herbalist and between plant emdicine and client. We are painting a volcanic explosion not a still life.
This is beautiful and exciting as well as sometimes frustrating, but we must accept that there is no easy answer, there is no box to check off. I reject the marketing schemes and the lifelong indoctrination that we can fix things easily and simply with pills.
So our craft needs the cheerful, the positive, the nice and the linear. Our craft needs all of you wonderful people who choose not to alienate or offend others, all of the different styles and all of the choices. But herbalism also needs the obnoxious, the questioners who poke at life with a stick to see what happens. Herbalism also needs to get shaken up sometimes, to crack our minds open and see what comes out, even if it is messy and challenging, hilarious and painful. That is one of the ways we learn.

violence stacked up December 17, 2012

Is the violence that this nation was founded upon a curse that is now haunting us?
In the forms of the bullshit we call “entertainment”-worms in our hearts and minds. In the forms of our actions against each other, sexual violence, physcial violence, murder. At our feet, constantly, is a debased relationship to the earth. Can anything be solved-ever-without recognizing that?
How can we possibly expect to fix this state of affairs with laws? Murder is already against the law.
We are reflecting generations of history now, history that was swept under the rug. Rape of people and land. Stolen bodies. Lynchings, hangings. Labor struggles. Children fed into looms, Women fed into factory fires, men’s bodies buried underground in mines forever.
If we fail to grapple with our own history and our relationship to the earth no law will prevent our children from opening fire upon each other.
If we fail to notice that our media is ultraviolent, manipulative, hypersexual, debased and fraudulent we will continue to pour it on ourselves like gasoline.
If we continue to send our people to fight brutal wars and kill others we will never, ever know peace in our hearts.
If we cannot recognize that humans have a need for healthy outlets to express ourselves, and that sometimes our expressions are seen by others as “violent”–but that has its place–this energy will keep exploding on us.
If we cannot stop treating animals and plants like objects which we deserve to treat like shit we will not be able to form healthy relationships with them.
If we do not deal with issues of class, race, gender, sexuality and religion in a way that spreads tolerance and awareness of others’ needs we will live in little boxes that crash into each other and make a mess.
I will never give up hope in my heart that this IS possible, that we can do it, and that someday we will all look around and realize that a better world is worth the work.

ass affirmation December 13, 2012

paradigm-bustin’!

“What you gonna do with all that junk
all that junk inside your trunk?”
-Black Eyed Peas

Oh, yes, time for our daily affirmations:
‘I am a good person’.
‘I deserve love and cash to flow into my heart. And stuff’.
‘I’m beautiful!’ ‘People love me!’
That’s cool. I’ve got nothing against affirmations. But I prefer a different type myself. People say that where thoughts go, energy flows. Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But I believe that energy flows where pelvic thrusts go.

Yes, my ass is the channel through which I receive the blessings of the universe. Bear with me people, this ain’t dirty talk. I just see ass-shaking as the kind of Chakra alignment I personally need. I wasn’t raised with the blessing of ass shaking, quite the opposite. My biker family gifted me with the ability to shoot stuff, drink beer and write satire. All lovely, but my ass, well, it stayed still for too long.
I always thought I could start shaking my ass when it magically became perfect. When my ass resembled that shit they shake in music videos, which has a snowball’s chance in hell of happening. I was shy, embarassed, awkward.
And then one day I’d had enough! I wanted to shake my ass, goshdarnit! Enough fear of looking like a spaz, enough of my stupid mental block! And I did it.

Because affirmations are in our heads. Yes, it is nice to think positively, to love ourselves intellectually. To make lists of all the crap we’re grateful for, and meditate on lovingkindness. To me, the ass supercedes all the intellectual baggage. It is the seat, the root, the hump–and moving it literally grounds us in earth. It calls up the energy like tai chi. An increase in sexual expression, body acceptance, reproductive health, digestive stimulation can all follow.
I had always thought “ass” was funny, a metaphor. The butt of all jokes. But I have realized that it is quite real. Yes, medicinal ass-shaking is as old as dirt. Dancing is worship. Dancing is belonging. Dancing is exercise, stimulates circulation, builds muscles for childbirth, posture, sexuality and endurance.Take 2 crunks and a bounce and call me in the morning.

“dear goddess, we made this great beat just for you
as an offering, can you feel us now?”-Saul Williams

The earth wants to feel your stomps and sighs, your thrusts and whirls more than your endless chatter.

“Now you can use reiki to assist in magnetizing infinite blessings into your life”
-Laurelle Shanti Gaia
Yes, you can use reiki. You can buy motivational magnets.
You can arrange all the furnture in a way that creates prosperity. You can light a million candles, turn on all of the battery-powered essential oil diffusers and cloud the house with nag champa.
Or, you can thrust, shake, wiggle your liberated ass towards connection and enlightenment…for free.

making room at the table December 7, 2012

 

Herbalists need to push our asses over and make some room at the table for each other. We sure as heck don’t have to like each other-but forming alliances is not about like. It is about acknowledging our shared power source-plants- and giving love and respect to everyone. It is providing support to each other, mutual aid, sharing, in ways more tangible than internet  ((((hugs)))).  It is also about encouraging accountability, “first cause no harm”.

Oh indeed there is room for disagreement. There is even room for argument-respectful argument. And spanking; herbalists love a good spanking. However, we are at war. We the people are all on the same side, in the same plant army, and need to acknowledge that. Hey, I’m no conspiracy theorist-I am not watching for aliens in my cornfield-but the water is not polluting itself, you know.  Garbage isn’t leaping into the ocean, forests aren’t clearcutting themselves. A little unity goes a long way towards the well-being of our people, our earth.

So pointless snarking and infighting amongst herbalists is lame, and let us not forget what happened around the turn of the last century, with opposing herbal schools shit-talking each other, leading to  rampant competition and eventual fizzling.  Ah, Scudder and Bach wrestling in a mudpit…..

In the spirit of a loving supportive future that nourishes all of us I present a list of rights and responsibilities to move us forward with joy, humor and alliance:

-Disavow yourself of the notion of a perfect herbalist. Herbalists are fat and skinny, obnoxious and sweet, malodorous, dorky, loud, shy, slutty, messy, queer, boring, colorful, drunk, ill, genius, odd, short, tall, angry, poor, tone deaf. Herbalists have dry elbows and 80s hairdos. Herbalists are metalheads and motorcycle mamas. There is NO “right” way to be an herbalist!

-Inspiration. We need to be inspired by our surroundings and we need to inspire others. Cultivate inspiration! Encourage it in others!

-We need to know the difference between a pancreas and a clitoris. Though the medical knowledge of herbalists varies, having a grip of the basics of the body serves us well. For example, front and back, top and bottom.

-Those who make medicines need to know their plants, where it’s from, how it’s made.  Surfaces and containers should be kept reasonably free from  fuzzballs, boogers  and tapeworms.

-No herbalist has it all figured out. Nor should we. We can be elders, but not experts-herbalists are lifelong students, driven to discover, to make connections, to see patterns. The moment we stop learning we are dead.

-If you wait until you are perfect to begin healing you deprive humanity of your gift.

-Don’t F people over, avoid manipulation at all costs, and first do no harm. Transparency is vital to informed consent. Be honest about your skill level, and let others decide if you know what you are talking about.

-Medicine makers are craftspeople. We are matchmakers, artists, poets  and creators.  Honor the artist in the healer.

-Mutual aid means passing clients on to other herbalists in their area, recommending each other, buying or bartering from each other, providing  tangible support and information to each other, providing feedback with love, sharing knowledge and inspiration.

So…With love and respect to all my fellow herbal allies, I thank you for the amazing things I have learned from my community, I thank those who’ve shared my writing, herbal store, information or recommendation. I thank those who have allowed me to provide you with herbs.  I thank those who’ve done the work to write books and articles, who share their case studies and milky oat seeds, and I thank those who disagree with me, who make me think, who make me hone my craft and my argument. And I thank those in my community who are growing older with me, watching each other kick ass, fall down, get up, mature into elders and build upon our ancestors’ work for ourselves, our earth and our beloved plants.

Elemental medicines. November 16, 2012

 

aster

 

 

Sometimes my “herbalist-ness” manifests as alchemist, as mad scientist. Tinkering, thinking, combining. Sometimes I am working in tangible materials, digging roots, grinding seeds, composting poop. And I like that, I like getting my hands in my medicines, getting my nose and my heart right in there and stirring. 

But I like the intangible,too. I like to make connections with the elements, tangibly and intangibly,  and I  feel that  this contributes to overall health in ways that taking herbs do not–or perhaps in addition to the ways that herbs do. I have no need to be sure that all of the elements are precisely balanced-I am more concerened that these energies  are in our lives at all. And we can buy something, sure. A magic element balancer, a person to chant over us, wave some shit around and call us “balanced”. There is balancing incense to burn, balancing oil to rub on our chakras, balancing baths and outfits and organic balancing underpants. But you do  not need a product to bring elements into your home. (With 3 kids and a Catahoula I don’t need to put a “crystal cluster ” on my coffee table!)  Earth just comes in-on our boots and paws!

turkey

 

Anyway. It’s a radical thought, but we can get a lot of our elemental medicine for free. It’s called going outside.

-FIRE: Hang out near a fire- indoors or out. Building a fire feeds part of our brain that is woefully underactivated in this culture. Gathering wood,  using fire as a tool, connecting with our source of heat/light/fuel. We have done that for centuries. It’s in our blood. We also formed our relationship with dogs around the fire–they are often attracted to it, too. Oh yeah, then there’s the sun. It’s pretty omnipresent. Find a ray.

primal dog

 

WATER: I bought an alarm clock with “soothing nature sounds”. This included a babbling brook. And you know what? It is a piece of crap. Why are we so attracted to water? It’s like “the source”, dudes.  Turning on a faucet does not contribute to our knowledge that water is a gift. Go in it, be near it, listen to it, touch it, drink it. Respect it.

Earth: According to about.com, not exactly my favorite source on holistic health,  ”Natural crystals and stones are the best way to bring the earth element into your home”. You know what? The best source of teh earth element is earth. Yeah, DIRT. soil. compost, sand. stand on it, sit on it, grow in it, put your damn hands on the earth. If you are buying products to bring the earth element into your home you may want to do some serious thinking. 

AIR: Breathe. Overthink stuff.

seeds

 

I believe we must question everyone who wants us to buy their goods and services. I believe that gathering is passed down to us in our ancestral memory and we are satisfying that impulse by amassing tchotckes and playing video games. I believe that we can support our own health by going outside every day. I believe that this will lead us to better sleep, better buttocks and a deeper connection with our homes… No magic underpants required.

smoke

 

“we’re all gonna diiiiiiiiie!!!!!”

fruit!

 

“Mycophobia is a cultural overreaction”-Garl Lincoff

Sooooo-fungi. Mycelium. Mushrooms. What’s up with them? Are they psycho killers? Should we be shaking in our booties at the likelihood that we will die from poisonous fungi? Um…. no.

A recent article circulating on facebook tells of a family who ate destroying angels and “almost died.” (They were saved by milk thistle seeds, which is somehow controversial.)

And the last sentence reads: “His family will only eat mushrooms from the grocery store from now on.”

Ya know, F that. Food at the grocery store is sprayed with all kinds of poison. Pumped up with diabetes-inducing sugars, fraught with blue lake number bajillion and obscene amounts of sodium and “flavor enhancers”.  Food at the grocery store is hyper-preserved, factory farmed and packaged to the high heavens.  And have we not heard of “recalls”? Peanut butter full of rat shit, ground meat full of “pink slime” and everything teeming with “allowable filth”. Yeah, safe.

I feel  frustrated when people tell me to “be careful” when foraging for plants andf fungi. Yeah. No kidding. And should I be careful when driving, boating, drinking, eating peanuts, and ingesting (doctor prescribed!) pharmaceuticals?!?! All of which slay a zillion more humans than fungi?

I believe we can learn about fungi. I believe we can learn about wild plants. I believe humans are not as stupd as we act. Can we identify a banana? Can we tell the difference between an almond and a walnut? Or a poodle and a pitbull? Yes, most of us can. Can we learn to use an iphone, operate heavy machinery, program the damn VCR? Yes we can. So why do we think we can’t identify a destroying angel?

You don’t need to learn ALL mushrooms. Just learn those that kill. A small minority, I might add. Learn the clear sign of a poionous puffball. Learn the skirt of a destroying angel. Avoid LBMs.  Never eat raw fungi. Always use at least 2 ID sources. (and this blog is sure as hell not one of them!!) If you aren’t sure, just don’t eat it. It’s not rocket science.

Often in our society we fear the forest, we fear the dark places, the unknown, we fear our own knowledge, our own hands. We overvalue the invariable. We overvalue the list of ingredients, the nutrition facts, the stamp of approval. And we project all this internalized crap onto fungi. And don’t tell me advertising has no hand in our panic. Don’t tell me big business isn’t eating our panic right up like fungi on a stump.

We CAN learn to recognize patterns. WE can learn basic botany. We are not helpless babies being manipulated by great evil lurking in the forest. And we can ingest stuff that doesn;t come from the supermarket. I have a few choice fungi that I have memorized, that I recognize and feel affection for. And, really, most fruiting bodies are just “eh” in the pan.  (But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy their presence outside!)

Foraging  for wild fungi and wild plants and is a passion, an obsession. It is not inherently dangerous with some common sense and a basic grasp of major pitfalls, patience, safety guidelines and idenitfication skills. People have died from way lamer passions.

fruit!

 

 

 

pain is a gift. pain is not a gift. November 9, 2012

Some people say  “Pain is a gift.” others say “Pain is NOT a gift.” And then we have those who say “Don’t tell me whether or not MY pain is or is not a gift, dammit!” OK. So I see your point. And I think that pain is, in fact, a gift. A gift from the universe. But maybe it is not the gift you wanted. Maybe it is not what you asked for.  It wasn’t on your list. It’s like getting another ancient dried-out fruitcake from your drunk great-uncle Stan in the mail, and your mom claims you have to write a thank-you note.  Ugh. “I asked for an axe and a leather thong and I got this stupid bottle of Jean Nate and another pair of Isotoners!” I know.  You don’t even have the receipt.

green stuff.

 

But we do not get to choose our gifts. We don’t get to register with life. That is why it’s called “gifts”—because it is given to us. It may not be the right time. But it is not like shopping at the mall, where you can pick the right size, the right color. Where you can choose from 30 different flavored salts, all of which kinda suck.

Pain is a gag gift. Illness is a flaming pile of dogshit left on your doorstep. A stupid psychic booby prize. A yankee swap full of Neanderthals.And we must be alchemists and turn our gag gift into, if not gold, at least a tool we can use. We may say “if that’s all you’ve got, universe, pain and suffering, just don’t give me anything! Skip it this year!” but the universe HAS to give you something. You’re third cousins. On your Mom’s side. And the universe is obligated. She agonized over catalogs. She abhors a vacuum.

So until the universe employs a personal shopper who can sort out who has “more than they can handle” and who does not we are going to receive these cursed packages in the mail.  We are going to have to pay the rent on self-storage units to put all of our gifts, our amazing gifts and our cursed gifts, in until we can rehome them. We are going to have to build a first-aid kit to treat the fucked-up universe. And we are going to have to write a thank-you note to our creepy uncle. Even though we’d prefer not to.

PLEASE NOTE: this essay is meant to be humorous. also, YES, i live with a chronic condition. ok.

random beautiful earth-y photo

 

further musings on porosity of the mind November 7, 2012

interspecies

 

blessed are the snail-hearted. yes,  the oozers who thrive on contact with the soil, who look up and see the underside of all the world running in circles above. blessed are those who can abide a bit of slime, who are using that slime as a catalyst for sensual input. slime  transmits, you know. for the sensual and the tactile are actual tools for our body, yes touch is medicinal of course and wellness without touch does not exist.

skin to skin contact is medicinal. skin to soil contact is medicinal. skin to fur, skin to stone, skin to bark. this input is nourishment that humans need to truly thrive. and in our culture we seem to be SO focused on the visual. most of us are overstimulated visually, with near-constant rapid- image-change and a barrage of billboards blocking our view of the sky. with headphones blasting digital beeps and boops while the CAW! of a crow, the PEEP! of a chickadee, the COO! of a pigeon go unnoticed, unrecognized. (or, perhaps, only recognized on special days devoted to birdwatching, with special binoculars, an id book and pants tucked into socks. )”yup, i’ve checked off another species on my to-do list.”

the sense of taste has been burned off by bleached food, by fake tastes (grape, my ass!) and in connection with the sorry state of our schnozzes–inundated with the horrors-the horrors! of “spring breeze” and “lavender fields” and “holiday bullshit” plug-ins, scented candles and dryer sheets.

TAKE IT BACK!!!!

people, our senses are all we have.

texture

 

our nose is an etremely important survival tool. it transmits signals to our brain from people, plants, animals, fungi, fire, decomposition, saltwater, breezes, poop, food, honeybees. culturally, we have disrespected our nose, treated its ability as an inconvenience which we can manipulate with chemicals in order to “catch a man”, create a “holiday mood”  or sell products.

moist

our worship of the visual comes at the expense of the nasal.

our worship of the fake comes at the expense of our hands, of our sense of touch, of our inborn drive for tactile contact with the world around us.

our worship of rock stars comes at the expense of knowing we are all rock stars.

our worship of pills comes at the expense of what our sense of taste can tell us, of how taste IS medicine.

building a fire is medicine, immersing ourselves in water is medicine.

take it back.

fluffy

 

trumpets of death and horns of plenty November 1, 2012

ah, november first, a turning of the wheel, a look back at those who have come before us, considering our place on the continuum of life. darkness falling earlier, inward turning.  i had a conversatoin this morning with someone who “hates darkness” and only likes sunshine. and it disturbed me. i have always taken it as a given that there can be no light without the darkness. the spectrum of life  is amazing and fruitful. and darkness feeds our art and poetry, drives our sensuality and sexuality, and provides a counter to stupid cheerful crap.

so i did what i always do when i get disturbed-i took a walk in the woods. i went foraging, like my great-grandmother used to do. not everything can be fixed with a ramble, but most of my emotional states can be unraveled and re-raveled that way. and the forest gave me a bouquet.

un bouquet de mort

yes, the forest provided me with a day of the dead bouquet to answer my questions about darkness. praying to your ancestors is good. eating them is better.

the hatred and fear of darkness is a hatred and fear of the self. you do not have to “like” your dark side. but it helps to acknowledge that it exists. you do not have to “like” your ancestors. but it helps to acknowledge that they came before. you do not have to “like” fungi. but they will help you turn back into earth. mycelium underlies all that we see and all that surrounds us. fungi remediates what we leave behind, literally breaking down the detritus of the plant and animal kingdoms and turning it into incredible shapes and colors and flavors.

eat your lessons.

fungi are a literal and tangible representation of the cycles which bind all life on this earth together. i can think of little more feared by modern people. i can think of few wild things less understood by modern people.

craterellus!

the black trumpet brings me joy, sensual pleasure, reconnection and the uncomfortable lesson that though i may now be doing the harvest and the eating, trumpets of death will be eating me someday. this cycle informs nearly all of my emotional work.  i find it simultaneously comforting and mortifying that we are on a crash course with spores and worms. my life’s work is to ease my heart towards welcoming that inevitablity, that darkness.  but in the meantime, we hunt, we gather, we feast, and we share our light with each other to get through the darkest times.

 

gone foraging

up close and personal