I Listen. I am rose, student and apprentice to all things good and green. I am an alchemist, herbalist and Medicine womyn. I seek the ancient wisdom and sacred Medicine. I am a keeper of the Earth. I Am. Peace.
Avena sativa is a long time herbal ally of mine. She supported me through my corporate years, from the inside out and the outside in.
She seems to be best known in her rolled form ...
But folks recognize her in her cracked form as well. And there's her beautiful, fresh and silky form that is like an embrace - milky oats.
And there's her dried, aerial bits - oat straw. This is the aspect of Avena that hooked me some 20 years ago. I sipped her and bathed in her ... intimate practices, both. And we've learned more about each other over these many years. So ...
Today I enjoy a beautiful February snow. The spouse had to be at his place of employment for 5am. I remember his kiss and his "I love you," half awake and half in restful mystery.
I woke to some reading, and the enjoyment of sipping a brew of Coffea arabica, until it was time to unlock the chooks, bring them their food and water, feed the dog and take her out for her morning constitution. While I was bundled and out, I figured I'd start some shoveling. A path to the chokes, the deck and the driveway. I returned indoors - before finished with this round - for three reasons:
A plow showed up to tend to a neighbor's drive and the smell of spent diesel destroyed my peace, magic and moment in Nature.
I needed to break my fast.
Saint Joan slammed a door.
So escaped the fumes, had bite and fixed a wee glass of water splashed with a teaspoon 'r so of tincture of Hypericum perforatum to sip on throughout the morning - before heading back out to shovel, and after. I even dribbled a bit down my spine.
Hypericum perforatum, or Saint Joan's wort (as she's known in the Wise Woman Tradition of herbalism), is a botanical you might know as Saint John's wort.
In my early morning shoveling, she entered my consciousness, slamming the the door on her way in, so as not to be missed. No whispers, no song, no shouts. For a fiery wench, she's as cool as cool can be.
You see, she is a steadfast ally to me and the flames that sometimes flare in this evolving body of mine. I have a touch confirmed arthritis in my right hip, and certain activities inspire it to excitement, which tends to be less than pleasant for me. But the activity is Good for my body. All of it. Even my hip. So tiny doses of Saint Joan before such activity (and after) keeps these flares from flaming too high. And in my spontaneous act to start shoveling, I forgot this.
I'm grateful for my relationship with this Rooted Ancestor, for she is beloved and a Medicine of many talents - more than this one that I mention here. And I'm grateful that she slammed the door.