dendrophile, herbalist manifesto, parsletongue

march 1 2015


getting closer to that aries fire.
been swimming through the dreamscape.

mornings. ever seen wolf cubs play? they snarl and tumble and nip and laugh with their tongues out----

watching these wild guys sure makes my momma heart purr.

vintage mushroom book from the library. great for: water color and tattoo inspiration. not so great for: actual taxonomy/contemporary research/ use in the field. ;p

healing plants take many forms: vegetables, fruits, seaweeds, algea, lichen, mushrooms, garden weeds, kitchen spices and seasonings. these beacons of hope in times of change are at their best without electricity, satellites, or fossil fuel. plants are free spirits and attract free spirits.*

 thankful for the nettle--- cleared away so much weight, integrated a stale load of fear and churned it into cleansing energy. gathering momentum. dreams are manifesting.

feeling my way through big vision territory.

connecting to earth and better hearing my wild heart.

cheers to the strangest lunation in history. still recovering from that rabbit hole of lunacy! oh the feelings!!!! hint: get lonely, by the mountain goats, has been my moody and epic soundtrack... i go through soundtracks.

always changing, these fluffy tender days just about spent. burst my heart with beauty.

oak catkins, acorn flowers. xoxo so much strength and beauty.

a taste of nighttime, teddy finds his flower essences and takes what he feels called to. 

feelings. in between work transitions. for now i've found a kitchen that's radical and fertile. :) dolly loves kitchens. stay tuned.

he sees his mommy journal and read and joins along.

ladybug crossing, little naturalists.

so brief and wonderful: shooting star (text below from here)

:Shooting Star flower essence is most beneficial to those who feel alienated from numerous aspects of early existence and suffer deeply for it  

so amazed to watch teddy search this flower out. we look for it every spring.

and as for these regal and pompous ladies..... iris, royalty.

snack baggies for my kids filled with miner's lettuce

hauntings of former states of existence, three years ago in suburbia. i get lost for hours watching clips of my babies, ever growing

lost in those days when i was a young stay at home mom, constantly struggling, with no sense of self. it's so painful and beautiful to see. this is my healing process.

thinking about the boy who lived on my back for three years, and who told me yesterday i didn't have any milk. he's been self weaning for months.

from the journal:

there is an abundance of children in my life.

many of my moments find me as guardian,

teacher,

protector,

nurturer

provider--

two nights ago:

8 of my nieces and nephews, along with my own 2,

we wander the manzanita trail. all nibbling blossoms and gathering them for fairy teas.

i watch with wonder as teddy, the eldest of this group, shared the secret of the drop of sweetness at the base of a periwinkle blossom. the children press blossoms to their lips, tasting for themselves.

i holler and bring the children in at dusk, for the neighborhood mountain lion has been particularly bold lately.

wow. they're not very subtle. they're loud. and powerful. full of electricity and fire. they call me, these sun lovers. bringing the visionary.
resiliency/heart centered spirituality.

 herbalism, the oldest form of medicine, thrives in the hands of the common people. a living, artful, scientific practice as heart evolves with the plants. its our low tech, sustainable, international system of healing, rooted and blossoming in mountains, deserts, waterways, cities, countrysides, jungles, sidewalk cracks, apartheid walls and backyards.*

chasing sunsets with this prince.

mandrakes and professor sprout, giggling my way through the nightly harry potter reading. we're on book two. if anyone knows me they'll understand how wonderful it is to be reading these to my boys.

triumph from the office/gypsy room of love and doom. heading the call of the flowers, skyping with a flower practitioner from the southern hemisphere, her accent delightfully filling my room as she spoke of autumn. she noticed the native flower poster i have on my wall, us connecting across the seas over this love and trust of plant medicine. this is the journey. i will not be afraid to shine any longer.

as part of the collective folk medicine song, spoken in the universal language of plants, we save seeds, we plant seeds, and share seeds. this is medicine for all.

we are woven like intricate mycelial strands, pulsing across mother earth, surrounded by an infinite congregation of ancestors. thank you, plants. i trust in you with all my heart.*

*"folk herbalism manifesto" written by sandra lazorcak.

been thinking exactly those things,

xoxo
polly compost