Earth Medicine, Tonics, and Temple Bells

Mama Earth here in the Northern Hemisphere is reminding us of what it’s like to feel vulnerable. The past weekend ushered in a bitterly cold blast of below-zero temperatures, ice, and snow. She lets us know from time to time who is in charge. Strong and beautiful Mother.

I did the math, and we’re just 58 days until spring. The first day of spring in New England is usually cold, and often snowing, but it IS the first day of spring. We’re headed in the right direction.

I’ve been getting by on a lot of self-care and daydreams. Leaning hard on tea medicine and cacao medicine, I put together a great cacao elixir a couple of weeks ago that I’ve been drinking every morning.

Blend raw cacao with molasses, turmeric, dates, and a dash of sea salt, then whisk all into hot oat milk for a morning tonic that warms and nourishes. I’m drinking lots of hot tea throughout the day. Other than water, which I’m drinking more of lately, cold drinks are virtually off the menu. The only two exceptions are our homemade kombucha, and the hibiscus tea I make about once a week.

Between the furnace pumping out heat day and night, and the fireplace going whenever we’re home, the air in our home has become very dry: a typical winter problem. I keep a large bowl of water on top of the pellet stove. I have to refill it almost every day. We throw back the curtains on sunny days to let the generous sun warm the rooms on the south side of our home. A couple of weeks ago I started misting the indoor gardens with spring water daily, sometimes twice a day. I bought a small essential oil diffuser and placed it next to the bed. It acts as a gentle humidifier while we sleep.

In recent weeks, I’ve changed my skincare ritual in an effort to fight the dryness that aggravates my skin in winter. I’m spraying my face with rosewater each day. I stopped using conventional soap and have switched to bathing with coconut milk, a mild adaptogenic ginseng/maca/oatmeal soap, and just plain water.

I’ve traded in my standby Indian clay facials for a simple, enzyme-rich skin ritual that’s keeping my skin soft and clear. It’s so easy, and incredibly good. Mix a spoonful of New Zealand manuka honey with a minimum UMF number of 20 with a dash of organic ground cinnamon and spread it on a clean face. The longer I leave it on, the softer and clearer my skin gets. For maximum benefit, leave it on at least an hour.

I’ve increased the amount of plain, pure, distilled water I drink (first thing every morning, I drink 16 ounces of distilled water). We’re eating more citrus, and I even made the mistake of picking up, on a whim, a watermelon and pineapple from the local supermarket. The melon was rotted inside when I cut into it the next day, and the pineapple slowly decayed before it ripened. I got our money back from the store, then scolded myself for getting so desperate that I actually bought the pitiful ersatz ‘fruit’ that’s sold at chain supermarkets. Yuck.

But what I really need is ocean medicine. Sun medicine. Earth medicine. We’re definitely at that time of year when the yearning is underway. I long for that indescribable briny scent of salt water through humidity on a July morning. I’m craving sun on my skin, and the cool, rough aina under my bare feet.

I’m obsessing about our own homegrown fruits, veggies, and herbs. I want to make sun tea, a big jar of fresh water, tea leaves, and herbs, covered with a small cloth and weighted with an amethyst, surrounded by sun-charged crystals, just soaking up all that solar energy all day. I want to shower outdoors, plant papaya seeds, and tend to young plants. I want to bury big knobs of turmeric root in the garden. I want to hear summer wildlife declare itself in the woods and grasses around our home. I wouldn’t mind a pineapple snow cone, and a chance meeting with a sea turtle or dolphin pod off the side of our boat.

Just before the big snowstorm Saturday, I went outside to our little peach orchard and hung seven Tibetan brass temple bells from a branch on the strongest tree. A little dream of peace.

Desire is at the root of all unhappiness, the Buddha taught. Thanks for being patient and letting me whine for a few paragraphs here, but it’s time to turn my grateful attention back to winter and its unique blessings. We have potent cacao tonics and lots of tea medicine. We have fire keeping us warm.

We’re babysitting my stepson’s beautiful lab Rosie, so we are surrounded by animals at home. We have kombucha fermenting in the kitchen. There’s an indoor garden in the little corner of our living room that’s flourishing. There’s daikon and green lentil sprouts stirring in jars. I have crystals charging in the sun in the kitchen window, and avocado pits rooting in water. 

We have plans to build a labyrinth in the grass this summer, a place where we, our friends and visitors can wander and be free of concerns. We have ritual and simplicity and connection. Now, we just need a little patience.

Barbie xo