What I know... and what I don't...

 

I know it's Friday, the first Venerdi of spring. The wind is whipping around out there in the pre-dawn hours. There's a chill in the house - our little hut, as I tend to call it - inspiring me to pull my wool shawl up and around shoulders and neck. I do this and I consider the fire that needs to be started for the warmth that will carry us through the day. I think of the trays of pea seedlings outside, hardening off, and feel glad that we covered them last night before relaxing into the evening. I'm reminded that they'll have their roots in the earth soon enough, and that peas are badass, tough as fuck, and are likely just fine our there in the dark of this March morning chill. I count my blessings, and feel mighty glad to be surrounded by the foundation, walls, and roof of our humble abode.

I know this little-shit cat, sweet and silky Sam, is sitting on the bed within petting distance. It's the first time he's curled up so close to me. The past two years, plus some, that we've know one another, he's stayed to the foot of the bed. This is special, this closeness, and I'll carry that magick into the day with me. Yes, I will. In the meantime, I'll pause from this keyboard to reach out and pet him for no other reason than he's so damned silky. And, yeah, I love him beyond reason.

I know I have list of reminders and ToDos for the day, but I haven't looked at that yet. I'm doing my best to express one thousand words before I commence any former morning routines. I'm doing this in the hopes of creating a new morning ritual. It's behavior modification, but I'm calling it morning ritual. That's sexier. Or something. I know that.

I know this morning. I know this moment. That's what I know.

I know some stuff. After all, one would expect to know a thing or two about a thing or two after sixty-six years of living.

All that said, I don't know much. I know that. I know that because for decades I've been of the mind to learn something new every day, and I do my best to invite that verve into my world every single day. There's so much I don't know. Some of it, beautiful, some of it not so much. When I look around the world these days, I find myself beyond grateful that there are things I don't know... experiences I've not had. So grateful. It’s a privilege. You know what I'm talking about.

This thread of thinking, which could easily stitch its way to mind 'n heart numbing depression, reminds me to do something good and decent for someone today. It also reminds me to do something good and decent for myself, so I reach out to stroke that silky fur of that little-shit cat, Sam. It's a stroke of love.

I don't know when these winds will pause. I don't know that it matters. For me, anyway, tucked under the bed covers, shawl wrapped around me, sipping hot coffee. I mean, hey, I'm comfortable. And tucked in this comfort, I consider those that lack the foundation, walls, and roof that offer me protection, comfort, contentment. I mean, everyone deserves protection, comfort, and contentment. Right? And a whole lot more to my way of thinking.

It's the stuff I don't know that seems to needle me. You know, the stuff I don't know, but know about. When I consider the moment, I consider the present world in which I live, the one we share. From my view, it has grown increasingly cruel throughout my lifetime, despite liberal views of declared improvement. I look at it all and consider it nothing but window dressing. I look at actions taken by leaders over the decades and see them - despite any sincere intentions of compassion that may have been a part of their creation - as the performance pieces that they are. Oh, don't get me going.

This thread of thinking, which could easily stitch its way to mind 'n heart numbing depression, reminds me to do something good and decent for someone today. I will. That's a promise. It also reminds me to do something good and decent for myself, so I reach out to stroke that silky, silky fur of that little-shit cat, Sam, who's sitting closer to me than he ever has in our shared existence. It's a stroke of love... protection, comfort, and contentment. And a whole lot more.

I see the light growing outside through the vertical voids of the bamboo blinds. I know the day is breaking. And with that, I know all the pieces are there for me to put together as I am able, and - if I'm lucky - as I choose.

I sit with the pieces of the day scattered around me. Beautiful bits and shards from which to create this new day. I'll do my best to choose carefully, and use discernment to take care not to cut myself, or anyone else with those sharp bits. I see them as tools of creation, these shards of daybreak. I can employ them to etch the other bits into something fresh and new, or use them to cut and create the facets of this new day, all the while doing my best to do no harm.

The gods know the world needs that. No harm.

I know a bit or two. Sure. And yeah, I sit here watching the light increase through the windows knowing that I'll have to rise from this warm and comforting place to start the next phase of the day. I'm grateful for these days. I'm grateful that spring has arrived. I'm grateful for these early morning hours that afford me this bizarre luxury to make these silly 1000 word rituals.

So now I look at these words, nonsensical though they may be, and see potential in them for more 1000 word rituals. I read through them again and figure hey, what the fuck, I think I'll share these words with you.

For whatever they may be worth. Or not.

🕊

Meet and Dance with Inula helenium – Elecampane

spring elecampane

Inula helenium – Elecampane

Family: Asteraceae

Inula helenium is native to Europe and Asia, where it has a long history of medicinal use in European and Ayurvedic traditions. It has made itself at home, gently so, throughout parts of "North America," seemingly preferring damp areas with dappled sunlight.

Nicholas Culpepper says, “'It groweth in moist grounds and shadowy places oftener than in the dry and open borders of field and lanes and other waste places...”

It’s a mighty herbaceous perennial plant, with large leaves and a thick stem. It grows to about 3-6 feet tall, though some on the little acre we care for have reached over 6 feet. The large leaves are toothed, with the lower ones stalked and the higher leaves embracing the stem. They’re lance-shaped, toothed, velvety green on the upper sides and lighter on the underside due to heavier fuzz, and they grow up to 12 inches or so long at the base of the main stem, growing shorter as they travel up the stem.

Each plant produces several flower heads, each giving life to 50 to 100 yellow ray flowers, and 100 to 250 disc flowers, blooming from June through September, depending on the region. "Mine" tend to begin blooming mid-to-late July.

The root is thick with many branches. It’s fragrant with a sweet, camphor-like aroma (which I LoVe). The character of the root is mucilaginous and bitter.

Other species of this genus engaged medicinally are I. japonica, I. britannica, and others. I'm only familiar with I. helenium.

Harvest: Root (2-5 years old) ideally in autumn. Flowers and leaves, collected summer to autumn.

Taste: The roots express bitter, pungent, and a complex, aromatic flavor that is pleasant to some, acrid and distasteful to others. Henriette Kress describes it this way, “The taste is cool: first it's aromatic and you wonder why this herb isn't used more than it is. About half a minute later, the bitterness hits. Whoa ... and about half a minute after that, you notice that your sense of taste is gone. No worries, you'll be able to taste things normally in half an hour or so.”

Humors: Warm and dry.

Actions: Anthelmintic, anti-asthmatic, anti-tussive, antimicrobial, anti-parasitic, carminative, diaphoretic, digestive, diuretic, emetic (in large doses), emmenagogue, expectorant, hepatic, stimulant (gentle) stomachic, vulnerary.

Constituents: Lactones, mucilage, pectin, polysaccharides (inulin), resins, sterols, volatile oils.

Contraindications: During pregnancy and breastfeeding. Large dosing can cause nausea, vomiting, gastric spasms or diarrhea.

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Ways we might engage this botanical:

Elecampane root is probably best known for offering support to the respiratory system, specifically for wet, stuck, phlegm-y symptoms, but Lesley Tierra reminds us (westerners) that “it has also been used for cholecystitis, gallstones, intestinal worms, rheumatic complaints, genitourinary problems, and consumption (tuberculosis) as well as skin diseases (humans and animals engaged internally and externally) and venomous bites. It has been applied externally for sciatica and other neuralgic complaints as well.” She goes on to add that, “Ayurvedic medicine uses the same two species of elecampane root (Inula helenium and I. racemosa; pushkaramula), not only to clear the lungs but also as a lung rejuvenative tonic since it promotes the longevity of lung tissue.”

In western, TCM and Ayurvedic traditions, elecampane is used for treating many respiratory challenges including bronchitis, pharyngitis, asthma, pleurisy, wet cough, dyspepsia, rheumatism, pain, cramps, cystitis, skin eruptions, and animal bites.

When the flowers are used in TCM, they are steamed and dried, and in contemporary practice they are fried or baked with honey, which adds a humectant quality to balance the dryness of elecampane’s medicine that is honored for expectorating phlegm and calming cough. Lesley Tierra explains that, “The Chinese use mobilizing and dispersing elecampane flowers to direct energy downward and clear thin or lacquer-like phlegm from the lungs and stomach. They stop coughs, soften hardened phlegm, break up clumped accumulations, dissipate pathogenic fluids, and open areas of stagnation. They treat cough from phlegm and fluids clogging the lungs and thin mucus in the lungs, stomach, or diaphragm causing bronchitis, coughing, asthma, wheezing, shortness of breath, pleurisy, vomiting, hiccough, belching, burping, epigastric obstruction, food stagnation, flank pain, or palpitations with anxiety. The flowers are particularly good for nausea after chemotherapy and may be useful for upper respiratory allergies.” The leaves are also engaged for their diuretic actions. While the species used in TCM are not I. helenium, I am inspired to use the flowers and leaves in this way at some point in my botanical journey.

Most of my experience so far is with the tinctured root, and mostly for dealing with stubborn, juicy coughs. Though I do like it as an aromatic bitter (for digestion, and heart health), alone and blended with other bitters.

My first human mentor, Mark McDermott, used the root tincture in treating pneumonia, and other stubborn lung infections, dosing it 30-90 drops in an ounce water, every 4 hours up to four days. He also found it excellent for children with a hacking night cough, when blended with Glycyrrhiza glabra (up to 30 drops every 4 hours for up to 4 days).

Drop to small doses have been helpful to me (and others) for lingering bronchial congestion and cough.

David Hoffman describes its respiratory actions this way, “The mucilage has a relaxing effect; while the essential oils bring about stimulation, so the herb both soothes irritation and promotes expectoration.” He suggests a 1-2 ml. tincture dose, three times a day, or an 8-hour water infusion of 1t herb to 8oz. water, heated and served hot three times a day.

A tea of the root, or infused honey, served nice and hot, can sooth a cough, as well as help with a stuck fever by stimulating a nice sweat.

Mark also used it for kidney infections, blended with Barosma betulina.

Use the flowers (or any part of the plant), fresh or dried in spiritual bathing, especially when grief needs attention.

This plant also has a history of being engaged energetically to nurture psychic abilities, as well as enhance communication skills. It is, like so many (all?) plants to be protective as well.

Julia Graves makes note of the yellow flower, like so many yellow flowers, as having an affinity with the solar plexus. She also mentions their large leaves in quoting Matt Wood, “large leaves stand for surface area and gas exchange or breathing, hence the lungs and the skin: Burdock, Elecampane, Comfrey, Mullein.”

Henriette Kress notes, “It's also been used for elfshot. That's where all your energy runs out of the holes made by the arrows of elves. And if the elf queen pulls you into her dance, you can stop only once you're completely exhausted. These days, the ones that pull you into the dance are your work and boss, which make you stress and hurry until you're burned out. Take some elecampane, it helps you quit the dance.”

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Dance with Inula helenium – Elecampane

If you are able, grow this lovely plant so you can experience their noble presence as well as their root and other parts fresh, as well as dried.

Make a cool water infusion with the fresh root.

Elecampane Root Infused Honey

Clean and chop a fresh root into bite sized pieces, fill a jar, and cover with local honey. Label this and put it away in a high shelf out of direct light and simply send it healing LoVe until it calls to you. The infused honey is great stirred into hot water, or tea to treat a stuck, damp cough or fever, or as an occasional digestive aid, or in any other fitting way. The root itself, can be used like a sore-throat lozenge, nibbled like a candy, as is – straight out the honey jar, or dehydrated.

Rosalee de la Forêt’s Elecampane Cough Syrup

1/4 cup dried elecampane root (25 grams)

1/4 cup dried and chopped rose hips (35 grams)

1 pint water

1/2 cup to 1 cup local, raw honey

Simmer the elecampane root, rosehips and water for 25 minutes, covered. Strain off the herbs.

Measure the liquid to determine how much honey to add. (If you add an equal amount of honey to the water, the syrup should keep for a very long time*.)

Tip: Add the honey while the mixture is still warm. If necessary, very gently warm the liquid until the honey fully combines. The less heat you add the better to preserve the raw qualities of the honey.

Store it in the fridge.

To use: This syrup is ideal for congested coughs and sore throats. Adults can use 1 teaspoon every 30 minutes.

*If you prefer things less sweet, then adding less honey is fine. Keep it stored in the fridge and use quickly.

I usually make a decoction and then measure everything to create a simple syrup, alone or blended with other herbs.

I really like the fresh root infused in apple cider vinegar, sweetened as a shrub or oxymel, for serving cool and well diluted for enjoyment, or used as is a nice tart cough syrup.

Elecampane root has a long history of being used for making candies, liqueurs and blended with fruits to make cordials, as well as in soft drinks,

The complex flavor can inspire creativity in the kitchen, as additions to beverages, icings, in baking, and more. So use your imagination!

Other Applications and Inspirations

• Tea/Infused water/ales and other fermented beverages

• Infused vinegar

• Infused oil, balms, ointments, lotions, soaps

• Steam

• Bathing/washing

• Bath salts

• Poultices/compresses

• Pillow (or mattress) mix

• Herbal Beads

• Spiritual healing

resources:

• Scott Cunningham, Magical Herbalism

• Rosalee de la Forêt, herbalremediesadvice.org

• Julia Graves, The Language of Plants

• Maude Grieve, A Modern Herbal

• David Hoffman, Medical Herbalism

• Henriette Kress, Practical Herbs, and henriettes-herb.com

• Michael and Lesley Tierra, East West School, planetherbs.com

• Wikipedia for the botany bits

• Personal notes from multiple sources

• Personal experience

spring elecampane among the jewel weed

🕊

Meet 'n' Dance with the Ocimum species - Holy Basil

holy basil water - July, 1999

Ocimum spp. - O. tenuiflorum / O. sanctum / O. gratissimum – Holy Basil

Family: Lamiaceae

The lovely aromatic Ocimum species, often referred to as tulsi, as well as holy basil, is considered native to India where it has been cultivated and engaged for spiritual and medicinal value for centuries, and where it is honored as an elixir of life. It grows throughout western and southeast Asia, Central and South America, as well as Puerto Rico where, in its native range, it’s a perennial. It can easily be grown in my realm of the world - southern "New England" - as a garden annual, which sometimes reseeds itself.

Botanically it’s referred to as an erect, many-branched herbaceous subshrub that grows to about two feet tall with furry stems and spiraling leaves. The deliciously fragrant leaves are small (about 2”) and ovate green (Lakshmi) or purple (Krishna) and slightly toothed. The purplish flowers cluster in close whorls of elongated racemes. Holy basil prefers rich, moist soil, full sun to partial shade. 

It’s been a common medicinal for thousands of years in Ayurveda tradition, as well as a highly valued herb in the spiritual practice if Hinduism. The common name tulsi is Sanskrit for “the incomparable one,” or “beyond compare,” often relating to goddess Lakshmi.

Harvest: Aerial parts – typically before bloom, or at bud, but (ideally) before full flowering. Harvest the leaves any time from spring to killing frost, the plant appreciates trimming and offers more branches and leaves in gratitude.

Taste: Sweet and bitter, and pungent, astringent.

Humors/ Energetics: Drying, warming and cooling, stimulating and relaxing. I call its nature deliciously nuanced; like us.

Actions: Adaptogenic, alterative, analgesic, anthelminthic, anticancer, (mild) anticoagulant, antidepressant, antimicrobial, antioxidant, anxiolytic, astringent, cardiovascular tonic, demulcent, (aromatic) digestive, expectorant, hepaprotective, immunomodulant, (relaxing) nervine, neuroprotective, radioprotective, (all around) tonic.

Chakra Association: Root and Heart and Crown - for its centering, grounding and uplifting qualities. You’re mileage may vary.

Constituents: Flavonoids, mucilage, tannins, triterpenes, ursolic acid, volatile oils, and more. Vitamins A and C, and more.

Contraindications: It’s suggested that it be avoided during Pregnancy, as well as by couples striving to conceive, as there’s anti-fertility potential. Those talking ℞ blood thinners may want to temper their intake due to mild anticoagulant actions, or work with a practitioner to adjust their ℞ dosage. Likewise, those talking ℞ insulin may need to temper their intake and adjust their ℞ dosage.

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Ways we engage this botanical:

When I first sat down to document my experience with this herb—which I had been engaging and growing for decades—I felt challenged when I realized I had pretty much been engaging it mostly as tea and in tea blends. I had made the occasional vinegar infusion and subsequent oxymels and shrubs, which were clearly enjoyed. At the time of the first draft of this document, there wasn’t a bottle of any variation to be found in my little hut, or on any apothecary shelf. I’d used it fresh, in summertime food and beverages, in fermenting, but mostly to dry for tea. I thought, surely I must have a tincture, for it’s my habit to make and experience herbals in their many manifestations. Alas, no such bottle on the apothecary shelves. So, at that time I realized that my experience with this botanical, while frequent, was limited. Since then, I’ve done my best to expand my relationship with this sacred botanical. ::nods::

From my first sip, at a long-ago Northeast Women’s Herbal Conference, I loved the flavor as a hot water infusion (tisane/tea) and heard the voices of my Rooted Ancestors tell me, “Just drink it, it’s Good for you.” And, well, I usually heed the messages from those voices, and in this case I did so without challenging them. I learned that I had a lot to learn about this chummy ally that I barely knew (from a left-brain perspective), and here’s what I’ve learned about this sweet, powerful and sacred herb over the years and in my research that has shined a light on the expansion of my experience, and thereby some wisdom and knowledge.

Here goes:

With respect to the mind, it enhances concentration, to which I can attest by my afternoon cravings for it when I’m on a time-sensitive mission (or just desire a gentle pick-me-up). As I consider this, I reflect on the years of my menopausal journey, which sometimes included (extreme moments of) brain fog… and I realize the timeframe of my discovery of and delight in holy basil fit perfectly with this particular life journey. Fascinating. Serendipitous. Anyway…

Matt Wood also ties it to being supportive with dull or diminished mental function, as well as memory lapse and loss. Todd Caldecott says it stimulates the mind and the senses, and counters the symptoms of dementia. My sense is that it plays a role in nurturing a harmonized mental state, and based on my experience may be helpful in treating a range of mental challenges. Matt Wood makes mention of holy basil in helping with depression, addiction (be it alcohol, drugs, food and the like), grief, and PTSD, as well as head injuries, concussion, stroke and when cerebral circulation is impaired. Holy basil’s capacity to center and ground while calming the heart and mind seem so fitting for many disharmonies of the mind.

David Winston says, “Has long been used in Ayurvedic medicine for the mind and nervous system. It lifts the spirits while increasing clarity of thought and dispelling depression. Traditionally it is used for cloudy thinking caused by drug use. It is also antiviral, a carminative, an adaptogen, and a galactogogue.”

Holy basil has a history of playing a role in balancing and stabilizing blood sugar levels in people with diabetes. There’s conventional research that validates this, as does Matt Wood when he mentions it in regulating spiking blood sugar levels with hypoglycemia and diabetes mellitus.

Holy basil also gets classified as a cardiovascular herb offering benefits to heart health, in managing heart disease, and in lowering high cholesterol (for those for whom cholesterol levels are a concern). Between its adaptogenic actions (which we’ll get to), gentle blood thinning and circulatory actions, it offers its virtues as a respectable cardiac tonic. But, hey, I feel it opens the heart holistically to a spectrum of healing and wellness (similar to comments on the mind).

Like many aromatic herbs of the Lamiaceae, we engage it to get stagnant or weak digestion moving, stimulate the appetite, relieve bloating and gas, calm nausea, and it’s noted for relieving heartburn as well.

As a relaxing nervine, David Winston describes its action as able to move stuck energy in the energetic nervous system, lifting mood, heart, and allowing one to feel open and connected with others. This may be one reason why it lands in so many of my tea blends. That, and it tastes Good.

Holy basil has a long history in Ayurvedic Medicine for supporting the respiratory system, and is used for treating colds, coughs and asthma. Plus, its immunomodulating actions, along with its antimicrobial actions, can help to prevent as well as treat colds and flu, and an array of other dis-eases.

Rosalee de la Forêt mentions studies that show it to act as a COX 2 inhibitor which suggests holy basil is useful in calming pain and cooling inflammation.

Holy basil has also been sited as beneficial for the prevention and treatment of cancers.

There’s so much more… in Matt Wood’s, The Earthwise Herbal Repertory alone, it’s mentioned for treating allergies that affect the nose and sinus, specifically for animal dander and mold… for helping to pass kidney stones that are accompanied by extreme pain, red urine with brick-dust sediment… for symptoms of PMS, menopause, for treating yeast infections, to support lactation and enhancing libido… for its adaptogenic support to the endocrine system… for drug detox and flushing heavy metals… to treat fevers with little or no sweat… and to soothe insect bites.

The modest holy basil offers mighty potential for holistic wellness. Indeed.

And last, but oh so not least, holy basil is a notorious adaptogen, capable of supporting the body in non-specific ways, managing and harmonizing holistic sources and manifestations of stress with a graceful, well acknowledged, yet (from my perspective) mysterious track record. It helps our physiological bodies adapt to a myriad of stresses… to nurture and maintain holistic homeostasis. Which leads me back to the voices of the Rooted Ancestors, “Just drink it, it’s Good for you.”

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Dance with the Ocimum spp. – Holy Basil

This humble little botanical offers so much potential, be it culinary or medicinal. Here’s a few ideas to get your creative juices flowing…

In Soups and Stews

Fresh plant matter added to simmering dishes is a nice way to leverage the Medicine and flavor of this plant. Add some as a garnish to stir in at serving time too.

I’ve used dry plant matter to make an infusion to add to vegetable and meat stocks as well.

In Vegetable and Meat Dishes

Holy basil seems most often to be referred to as kaphrao/ka-prao, and there are countless recipes using it in Thai cuisine, paired with vegetables, eggs, meat and seafood. So, if you cook (and I hope you do), go crazy!

As a Garnish for Sweet and Savory Dishes

Top rice, vegetable and meat (and other) dishes with the fresh plant matter, chopped to your liking. Likewise with fruit salads and other desert offerings.

In Ferments – Sweet and Savory

During my kombucha brewing days, I'd add the holy basil to some of the secondary fermentations, which was delightful. Toward the end of our “growing season” I sometimes harvest many of the tender frost sensitive plants to combine with a brine to ferment until I get back to it. When I do (get back to it) I whirl it in the blender to make a most AWEsome sauce. To this day I include holy basil in at least one version of a fermented (and/or vinegar) harvest sauce.

In Blended Beverages

Aside from the typical cup of tea, add it fresh to summer time blended beverages (spirited and not), and don’t forget to garnish your glass.

Holy Basil Water

Like many of the mint family, I love to add a bit of fresh plant matter, gently massaged, into a pitcher of water to keep in the refrigerator during the summer. The flavor and fragrance are delightful, and the sipping experience is simply centering and grounding.

Herbal Power

Powder your dried leaves to add to your culinary green powders, to add fragrance, flavor and botanical LoVe. I used to add holy basil powder to my dog’s food.

I’ve used the powder to make an “instant tea” often blended with other powdered herbs.

Pest Repellant

Holy basil has been used for centuries to deter pests from infesting stored grains. I haven’t tried this yet with holy basil, as my Go To for this is bay leaf (for grains, sure, and around my dried herbs, in closets, folded in woolens and linens). It’s always Good to have options. And this inspires me to wonder about a spray for mayflies, mosquitoes and (maybe?) ticks.

Last but not least…

This may sound crazy, especially to dedicated coffee drinkers, but sip some holy basil tea in lieu of coffee for caffeine-free pick-me-up. Seriously. I know folks who have used holy basil tea to wean themselves from their coffee addiction.

And some Familiar Dances:

• tea / tisane

• tincture

• syrup

• hard candy / infused honey

• infused vinegar to use as food

• oxymel or shrub

• added to homemade fermented beverages, soft and spirited

• water infusion for baths, bathing, washes

• infused oil

• beads, for prayer and adornment

• Medicine smoke

• spiritual baths and healing ceremonies

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resources:

• Matthew Wood, The Earthwise Herbal Repertory & The Earthwise Herbal

• Todd Caldecott, Food as Medicine

• Rosalee de la Foret, herbalremediesadvice.org

• David Winston & Steven Maimes, Adaptogens: Herbs for Strength, Stamina and Stress Relief, and this: Holy Moly! Holy Basil!

• Wikipedia, for botany bits

• Personal notes from multiple sources

• Personal experience

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🕊

Cinnamomum spp. – Cinnamon

Cinnamomum spp. – Cinnamon

Cinnamomum verum is one of the several cinnamon species belonging to the Lauraceae family. C verum is often considered the “true" cinnamon, though a handful of other species offer us the botanical that we know commercially as cinnamon. C. verum is small evergreen tree native to Sri Lanka, where 80-90% of the world’s commercial cinnamon is extracted (a defining word of colonialism), though we see other species from Indonesia, Vietnam and elsewhere. The leaves are ovate-oblong and grow about 3-7 inches. The flowers are green and the fruit is purple. It's the inner bark of the Cinnamomum spp. from which we get our familiar cinnamon sticks (and granules and powder).

Parts used: inner bark, twigs and leaves.

Harvest: Cinnamon bark is traditionally harvested from a coppiced tree (coppiced in the 2^nd year, young branches harvested the 3^rd year). The young branches are immediately processed after harvesting while the inner bark is still fresh and juicy. The outer bark is scraped off, then the branch is beat with a hammer to loosen the inner bark which is then pried off in long rolls. The leaves and twigs are also harvested primarily for their volatile oil.

Taste: Bark – sweet, pungent (spicy).

Energetics: Bark – warming (hot), drying, stimulating.

Chakra association: Sacral (also Root and Solar Plexus).

Key Actions: alterative, analgesic, antimicrobial, aromatic, astringent, carminative, diaphoretic, digestive, stimulant (circulatory), emmenagogue, expectorant, stomachic, tonic. and more.

Constituents: carbohydrates, coumarin (trace), flavonoids, mucilage, phenolic compounds, resin, sugars, tannins, terpenes (IE: pinene), volatile oil, and more.

Contraindications: While this is a botanical considered safe, avoid daily “dosing.” And as with all our botanical allies, be aware of allergic and idiosyncratic reactions, though both seem rare with this botanical. Cinnamon is considered generally safe when used as and with food and beverage during pregnancy and breastfeeding, for the very young and aged. With respect to contraindications, know which species you’re working with and any specific potential cautions that accompany that species - as they vary - and engage with purpose and wisdom.

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Medicinal use: Food and drink. I love a stick added to steeping teas and hot cocoa, especially in during the winter months. Savory soups, stews and chili benefit from a touch of cinnamon. I sometimes add it to fruit compotes, preserves and jams. You’ll sometimes find it in the cordials I make (especially black currant), as well as elixirs and oxymels. When making kombucha as well as other naturally fermented soft drinks, I sometimes add it to the secondary fermentation. It’s a nice addition to many syrups, be they culinary or medicinal. And, of course, it shows up in many a baked good, especially as autumn moves to winter.

I’ve added cinnamon to cough syrup formulas intended to address a dry, cold cough. I once heard that taking a piece to hold on an aching tooth eases pain and discomfort (like clove), and while I’ve not yet tried it, one client, years ago did and said it worked wonders (she didn’t have clove).

Sometimes I add the powder to my tooth powders, for the flavor, sure, but for its warming and stimulating actions that encourage localized blood flow, which give it a reputation for supporting gum health. I’ve used the diluted tincture, too, as a refreshing mouth rinse, though I prefer other herbals.

It, like peppermint and ginger, can have a soothing impact on the digestive system, and can quell nausea. I’ve made cinnamon pastilles for this purpose (plus they’re a tasty treat).

It has a traditional history in treating amenorrhea, though I've never employed it in this way.

Contemporary research suggests that it can lower cholesterol levels (which interests me not one wit, your mileage may vary). It’s been suggested that 1teaspoon of powder mixed with 1T honey taken first thing in the morning may relieve arthritis and this resonates with me because of warming and stimulating nature, though a teaspoon of cinnamon powder a day seems excessive, even for my robust constitution, so if this sings to you, proceed with caution and heightened awareness. There’s speculation that daily ingestion of cinnamon may support diabetes by decreasing insulin resistance. As for daily “dosing” of our most common commercial cinnamon (C. cassia), large and/or regular use may cause bleeding (because of higher amounts of coumarin), and liver compromise is also suspect.

I’ve often wondered about an infused oil of cinnamon, but because my most common habit is to make these oils with fresh plant matter I’ve not yet made it… though it still calls to me. Perhaps the alcohol intermediary oil infusion will be my muse to make a wee bit.

Spiritual relationship: Fire it up! This is a botanical that I’ve used in chakra “clearing” when the life force feels “stuck” – especially in the lower energy centers. I’ve physically placed a stick of cinnamon between the root and sacral (and/or sacral and solar plexus) chakras until “movement” is perceived. I’ve included cinnamon in energetic incense blends, one that was named, “Fire it Up!”

Energetically and physiologically, I find this herb to be a great match-up for those with cool temperaments that project reserved, calculated (and sometimes manipulative) behaviors. I picked this up from someone, but I don’t remember who. Wish I did. For me, this perspective opened up cinnamon a nice match-up for protection magick.

Every day, my desire to engage locally sourced (homegrown or wild harvested) botanicals, especially those native to my region, ramps up, up, and up. Yet, cinnamon is a botanical from far-off lands that I keep on hand. When I engage it, I offer gratitude to the earth where it was grown, to the people who tend that patch of Gaia, and who harvest and make it possible for me to enJOY. I offer honor to the verve that connects us, sustains us, and all things.

Peace.

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Some of my Usual Applications

Tinctures / alcohol extracts - for food and Medicine

Syrups

Elixirs

Oxymels

Cordials

Teas and other beverages

In baking

In stews, soups, chili, porridges, and sauces, etc…

Spiritual healing

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Cinnamon Milk – a warming tonic

Gently heat a cup of milk in a pan (or microwave, if that's your jam) with a cinnamon stick, to hot but not boiling. Pour into a cup or mug, with or without the cinnamon stick, sweeten with honey, maple syrup, herbal syrup, organic cane sugar, or your sweetener of choice, if desired, and enJOY. This is a nice warming tonic beverage to leverage throughout autumn as the temps drop in my region, and throughout the winter season for nourishing the immune system, warming the core and the extremities, as well as supporting digestion as the winter diet shifts (if you eat in harmony with local Gaia rhythms).

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sources:

A Modern Herbal by Mrs. M. Grieve

Michael Tierra on FB

The Herb Mentor

Wikipedia for the botanical bits

Notes from experience, my own and others.

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resting in suspension

🌑♒︎entry

I’ve been quiet.

Or so someone suggested.

It’s not for lack of words.

My mind overflows with words.

My heart overflows with feels.

A cacophonous libretti.

That overflow spews out of my heart, swirling within me… out of my crown, swirling above me, around me, below me, holding me captive within a ferment of letters and numbers, disjointed words, whole words, and so many feels… I just can't seem to grasp the pieces that I need to perceive, to hear, to share.

What’s worthy of feeling and expressing eludes me.

So for now, I’m suspended.

I feel that.

the infinite generosity of Gaia

Yesterday was about addressing the last of our Tromboncino winter squash. This is one of those activities that inspires my mind and heart to wander, wonder, explore. I am fascinated by how such a ordinary activity can inspire so much heartfelt consideration. Yet, as a devotee to Gaia, I often pause to reflect on my activities – large and small, ordinary and extraordinary – and how they nourish and nurture my relationship with Gaia.

2024 was the first year I grew this particular squash, and I will grow it again. Throughout the summer I harvested a gardener’s ton, small, at around 12 inches long, to use fresh, as a summer squash, in all manner of cooking. Any overabundance was sliced and dehydrated. There was one squash, hiding, as all squash tend to do, that grew larger, and this delighted me because it chose to be the one to grow to maturity to be a winter squash. I love this about this particular squash, that it's wonderful as a summer squash, when small, and equally wonderful when mature as a winter squash. The squash pictured here has been feeding us for the last past couple of months. I would just cut off what we needed in the kitchen, and leave the squash in its place in cool storage in the basement. So simple. So generous. And like so many squashes, winter and summer, so versatile and useful in so many dishes.

So yesterday I cleaned, peeled and cubed the last of this Tromboncino, and filled two quart jars. I used a pint or so in a chickpea Thai curry soup that we enjoyed for supper. The rest will be used for this ‘n’ that over the coming days. And if I feel like I'm not gonna get to it, I'll dehydrate the cubes for later use. Or maybe feed them to the chickens. But if the stars align with my motivation and physical energy, I’ll likely roast and puree it to make some biscotti.

We shall see. In the meantime…

In this moment I feel the infinite generosity of Gaia. I could go on, and likely will in my blue ink journal (my writing journal) to give this particular gratitude more attention. But in this moment, this one right here, I’ll sit a spell in the gloaming of the morning to bask in the infinite generosity of Gaia.

Thanks for indulging me.

🕊️

once upon a time

It’s the first Monday in January and I’m still waiting for winter. Well, winter’s here, yet I’m waiting for winter snow. We’ve had flurries and dustings and minor accumulations. Nothing lasting. Since the solstice, we’ve had some bitter cold. We’ve had some biting winds. What we’re missing is that blanket of snow that covers and protects life as I know it. Well… life as I knew it. Once upon a time.

Today will be cold again, with the winds taking a break before picking up again tomorrow. And there’s no snow in the 10-day forecast.

I sit here in the pre-dawn darkness, sending prayer, journaling, cursing our collective fossil fuel addiction, and so many conventions that starve and deplete Gaia, and all her kin. And, lest it be missed, that includes us two-leggeds. I sit here in the pre-dawn darkness recalling a 30 year old memory of the first time I saw robins in February, and my expression at that time, “this can’t be good.” We’ve had winter robins ever since. It wasn’t always like that. Once upon a time.

Today, not for the first time, I’ll be sending protective prayers to the garlic, shallots, and all the perennials, and the winter seeds. I’ll offer my intentions and actions to my beloved Gaia, and all her kin, for passive protection, sure, and also that we may revolt against the behaviors and actions that starve and deplete her, and all her kin.

I invite you to consider your behaviors and actions. I invite you to consider those that nourish and sustain life, and those that deplete and starve life. Those that add value, and those that add waste. I invite you to consider how you might shift your conduct so that it may be more restorative, less wasteful, more harmonic, less compliant to the ill willed, indoctrinated conventions of these times in which we live.

For decades, I’ve been shifting my ways. It feels so lonely. And here in the dark of early morning, my ancestors whisper (especially my rooted kin) that it wasn’t always like this. It wasn’t always lonely. And it doesn’t have to be. 

May this invitation inspire you into action… today, and every day, one gesture at a time, one choice at a time, small magick and large, alone and with as much community as you can inspire, in reciprocity with and for Gaia, and all her kin. For the collective future of all life. May this invitation inspire a new and renewed once upon a time.

🕊️

in prep of the calendar flip

I have my personal new year at my birthday, and then there’s this one that so many of us share. Historically, I’ve not given this one a lot of attention, yet in the past few years I’ve explored the shared social verve of this calendar flip time. That exploration has led me to acknowledge and honor a collective bit of magick that we share (knowingly, or not) that I used to dismiss. Where I used to poo-poo and push away, now I and observe and embrace (if not with some lingering reluctance) this time ‘n’ space of the shared new year.

The mystic in me can' no longer deny the collective verve of fresh starts ‘n’ new beginnings. I feel you, comrades. And I see you. I wish to dance this dance with you. Even - and mayhaps, especially - when it’s challenging.

Today, as I prepare for this shared magick in the lingering new moon in Capricorn, I reflect on the darker aspects of this past year. I’ve already considered the lighter bits during the dark moon phase. And make no mistake, there's plenty of overlap. I do this to make ready for tomorrow, that day #1 that we share, when I open the backdoor to let out the old year, and open the front door to let in the new. It’s a ritual that I practice twice a year at both new years… and, quite frankly, any other time that calls for it, which is rare.

When that backdoor opens, I invite it all to go. All of it. The good, the bad, all of it. I neither cling to the good, nor curse the bad. I honor it all. And I thank it all. Whether I like it or not. But, truth is, I like it. I appreciate it all. All.

When that front door opens, the back is still open, and I invite clearing, for sure, so the new can whip around my interior, into cracks ‘n’ crevices where old stuff can hide, so the new can usher as much of the old, especially any of the icky sticky stuff, out that back door. I invite in fresh air, and all that is meant to be with me in the coming year. All of it. The good, the bad, all of it. All.

And I exhale, inhale, and repeat… with all of it. All.

Now, understand that I use the words “good” and bad” not for judgey judgement, but rather for our collective understanding of these words, so I may convey my meaning. Make sense?

I could go on with some personal stories to convey the value this practice has added to my life over the years, or explain more about my relationship with judgement, or just ramble (it’s a skill), but that could take days, and we have this new year for which to prepare. And in case you’re wondering: Yes, I have lists.

And I invite you to have lists… to help you hold, acknowledge and honor your goods ‘n’ bads, so you may release them with conscious awareness. And if the ritual of the open doors resonates with you, and even if it doesn’t, I invite you to engage it. If you don’t have two doors, leverage one, and a window. No window? A single door will do. Start where you are, do the best you can, and let’s make some fresh, comforting, compassionate verve together for this year ahead. For ourselves, and for all of us. All.

🕊️