Free background from VintageMadeForYou
Showing posts with label Foraging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Foraging. Show all posts

Tuesday, 14 April 2020

Breath

Through this autumn of 2020 I've been thinking a good deal about breath.
To breathe is to live.
As we all journey through this peculiar time in world history, here in relative isolation, I've been living my life in simple, daily ways and noticing my breath, my lungs- how they feel, where they are in my body and what limits my capacity to breathe. I am also noticing what it is that causes me to breathe deeply, to relax, centre and feel alive. I first began to notice the impact of fear and anxiety on my ability to breathe easily, just before the "Lock Down" here, almost 3 weeks ago, when Rob's mother sent him an email that we had no idea was coming- it's been three years since they last spoke and with this unexpected correspondence came a wave of deeply dark energy and trouble. The following day Rob hurt his knee with a piece of wood while building, (and he'd been doing just fine on the safety front until then)
which created an injury to the bursa, that then developed in to cellulitis and caused a huge amount of subsequent trauma and worry. This pattern of cause and effect has been repeated hundreds of times through the last 26 years. When it first began it was through letters being sent. Crazy behaviour and angst would inevitably erupt in our household and other consequences- troubles: burst pipes, complaints at Rob's work, our children having wild meltdowns, terrible arguments between us and various forms of accidents and sickness. Nothing I did ever stopped this dreadful process from happening again and again. We'd pick ourselves up, just get our dignity back and mend the broken pieces when wham it would strike in yet another form. I eventually took to pegging the various letters and other posted items in trees in the garden until Rob came home from work, as I didn't want to bring them in to the house. Many times we burnt them, some are still at the lawyers office for "safe keeping"- out of our domain. The thing that I noticed this time around, was the impact of this dark energy on my breath. When the autonomic nervous system (fight/flight/freeze) is triggered due to a perceived threat, the breath shortens and becomes constrained and the natural easy rhythm is misplaced.
One of the consequences of these visitations is a form of mis-communication and dislocation between us (which is why I knew something was very wrong before the email came through) and it was a wee while down the track before I realised that Rob was in trouble with his knee injury. It felt like the whole world was against us and it felt very, very scary. A water pipe in our front garden then burst. I felt incredibly panicky and anxious through these days, while also wandering in and out of rage-a huge anger that this woman would continue to bring so much trouble into our lives. And my breath told me the story- shortened uneasy breath and heart palpitations.
How can this possibly be- well may you ask!! A woman who loves Jesus above all else, yet can activate so much harm in the life of the son that she professes to love so well. Every day praying- prayers becoming bad medicine. "Blessings" sent that morph in to curses. My lungs hurt- life diminished to survival. But I..AM..WOMAN here me roar!! (huge breath)- how dare you!! This life of ours is not yours to take. This marriage is sacred before God! And so I set about gathering my medicines and herbs that I have spent the last year preparing and I made poultices for the infected leg & others for the damaged knee and I made nourishing food and herbal infusions and I brought out my tinctures and I read some more of what I needed to do.

 And so with a doctors visit (for work and to be safe and yes, an antibiotic) we applied what we had and little by little we healed....the leg, the knee and our lives.
While Rob rested, I walked to the trees..my friends. And I found strength and I found solace and I gathered up my courage. That first day- heart beating strangely, breath all over the place, anxiety  extreme (beyond normal- I'm a resourceful person) and as I walked across the paddock under the watchful eye of the grand old trees in the Showgrounds, a bee came and landed on my hand, a little further a long a red admiral butterfly came fluttering up and landed on my breast- breathe....reassurance- it'll all be ok.
The next morning when I could hear the sound of water rushing through the pipes like crazy and Rob was still asleep, I walked around the house in the early morning mist in my dressing gown- once again feeling agitated and anxious (what next!) when I looked up the path and here coming towards me was the most beautiful little hedgehog- all will be well. Breathe.
 As is the way when you develop a relationship with healing plants- just the right thing presented itself to us to help heal the knee. A post by a friend prompted me to research the Cotton Rose bush that is growing down the back of the garden. A glorious thing- its also known as Hibiscus Mutabilis as the flowers come out white then fade to pink and the following day they finish their life in a deep shade of rose.
 This is the first year that our Cotton Rose has flowered properly. It'll be finished as soon as we have the first frost. I read that the flowers most especially can be crushed and used as a poultice to help reduce inflammation due to injury. Perfect! Breathe.
 We both felt ourselves settling in to trust, breathing more fully, as these beautiful flowers began to work their magic.
I crushed up one flower at a time to make a poultice each day.

 Until we found that it was no longer required.
 Lots of rest was also helpful.
 Beauty...deepens the breath too and is everywhere we look.
 Cats know just how to collapse in to deep peaceful relaxation when they feel safe.
One morning I was watching a video from the wonderful healer Prune Harris and she was demonstrating an exercise that connects the lungs and the immune system. I taught it to Rob and so we practised it that evening in Lucy. He got it perfectly. Breathe- deeply. Rest.  
You can learn it here too, if you like.
And so we naturally return to  "Acknowledging the good that we already have in our lives as this is the foundation for all abundance". Slightly paraphrased from Eckhart Toile.
 And soon enough we have been able to ride our bikes and walk again together and visit our beloved places and trees. For it is amongst these friends- "The Lungs of the Earth" that we find we can draw breath most deeply.
 And know that we are safe in their care and strong arms.
It's fascinating to me that we call the in breath inspiration- to inhale, to in-spire.
Trees absorb carbon dioxide, humans exhale it, trees breath out oxygen- the very substance we need for the breath of life-in. Isn't that amazing!
I have also been thinking about this global state of emergency caused by a particular virus & it's mutations, that is effecting and limiting the breath of the entire world; simultaneously. This impact is brought about obviously physiologically, but also psychologically. The virus infects/invades the cells and inhibits the natural function of the body, the emotions of fear, panic and anxiety and so forth, evoked either by presence or imagined threat of the virus- in us, have precisely the same impact. All of it alters our ability to breathe- in, oxygen. Life.

The dictionary states that breath is:

~ The air inhaled and exhaled in respiration.
~ Respiration, especially as necessary to life.
~ Life, vitality.
~ The ability to breathe easily and normally. She stopped to regain her breath.
~ Time to breathe; pause or respite. Give him a little breather.

 And isn't that just the simple reality of things- we each must attend to our own respiration. Our life breath is our own and cannot be shared. Our inhalation forms our inspiration- out of which comes our unique creative gifts- our offerings to the world. When we are not able to breathe freely we seldom flourish.

The dictionary also offers this definition of the word inspire:

To fill (someone) with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.


I love that we are so wonderfully and marvellously made, but it's funny how we really have so little knowledge about all the complexities of our human functionality. I'm a pretty simple living woman, I've come to realise- while others pursue knowledge, information and what they believe to be truth with great gusto, I am happy pottering a long in life with my own personal interface; yet ironically, I ask a thousand questions a day and I have a huge passion for learning- real stuff- things that are either wondrous, or that provide answers or assistance for everyday living. That's why I love nature so much. The plants and trees never put you crook and are always too happy to see me and offer their support and assistance.
In the lovely Steiner/Waldolf model of the 12 senses that I mentioned in my last post I have discovered that there is no Sense of Breath- I guess, because breath is life itself, but there most certainly is The Sense of Smell. Fairy Dust Teachings suggests: " It is through the sense of smell that we gather massages about the environment with every breath we take by the automatic function of smell that detects dangers, food, and other people. Think about common phrases we use like "I smell" trouble in the air". "Did you get wind of that?", "She is a breath of fresh air", "It's stink that she can't have the day off"....Our sense of smell plays a powerful role in the way we recognise each other, are attracted to mates, recall memories and even warnings about the environment around us".
I realise now that I have always had particularly acute senses and it is through my sense of smell most of all that I navigated my early years of life. The comforting smell of my Teddy was my anchor in those first 7 years of my life. The scent of winter sweet, blossom flowers, daphne, feijoas, passionfruit etc were all indelibly embedded in my olfactory memory bank from very wee. It was the smell of the house at Sunray Avenue (Rob's childhood home) that I will never, ever forget- the rank, mouldy, musty odour of contained mildew & dirt pervades every inch of that dwelling. It always made me feel very ill and sometimes gave me nightmares. Half the house has no concrete foundation so the stench of stale dirt has permeated everything in those 50 years of it's standing. Interestingly- in truth, I was never welcome, nor safe in that house. What we can smell we can make a choice about- mostly. "Ooh that bread's gone mouldy" causes us to throw the offending food in to the compost. Stinky feet, bad breath- we'll keep our distance. And of course, there are all the glorious smells that enrich our life daily: the comforting smell of dinner cooking, for instance, allows us to relax, feel safe and perhaps edify our much needed sense of belonging- even if just to our own lives.
But, it's that which we cannot detect, yet we breath in, that can really cause a problem: the pollen grains I see all over my car just now, but are invisible to me as I inhale them, or the cold, 'flu, covid19 virus that gets right up your nose without giving the slightest hint of it's presence. Even more disturbing is the energetic, covert toxin that arrives by stealth and causes chaos without the slightest permission- only the symptoms give it's presence away. In every instance it's the breath that let's us know what's going on in the beginning.

When it comes to these invisible invaders, we find that we are not in control of the situation, but what we can do is to gather around ourselves allies that will help to strengthen us and equip us to manage an uncalled for encounter with that which seeks to aggravate or destroy. And again I return to my simple ways and knowledge. It's tragic that in our modern age so many of us have lost generational knowledge of almost all good living practises. This has been brought home so powerfully as we've all had to be so forcibly re-educated to the basic practise of washing our hands to stop the spread of disease- any disease. But we've also forgotten about fresh air, sunshine, gardening, growing food, gathering herbs for nourishment and healing and how to prepare and cook food from real and actual ingredients. Learning and practising folk medicine and growing our own food or foraging for it and knowing local food producers well is the most fundamentally empowering thing we can learn to do for ourselves. Every part of this process is entirely in our control. We get a choice. We get to build our own immune response system in to health, or we can choose to tear it down and pretend that someone else was in charge. What I love so dearly is that these skills will travel with me through the rest of my life and they help me to breathe, to inspire, to create, to live my best life and they give me the very best shot at loving myself and others well. The other toxic stuff- I'll go on fighting for our freedom no matter what it takes.

Friday, 14 June 2019

Our Very Own Home Land

The last couple of months have been quite remarkable really- as we have established the restorative rhythms of visiting "the land" firmly in to our lives. Many people have dreams & plans to travel to particular places all over the world, and really, it's astonishing that in this age, almost anyone can do so- if they have a mind too. But the funny thing is, that as we journey on in life together- more & more we find we have a no desire to travel abroad & a greater & greater compulsion to explore the land all around us in our own city; our own province of Hawke's Bay. As we go out in to the countryside- to the rivers and the beaches and the forests and the wild places; the familiar places & those we never even knew existed before, we find a deeper & deeper sense of grounding & homecoming weaving our lives together in coherence, meaning, purpose & healing. The more we show up, the more we are met with open arms & provision & a breathy sigh- of "Thank goodness you're here. Welcome!". It's a remarkable & unexpected phenomenon. Our lives & memories will never be the same again. At last we are able to surrender the past of our origins- all the prickliness & ostracism, the factions & unacceptability that was our lot & that was thrown at us in a myriad different forms. Quietly now we close the door on loss & rudeness & settle in to a whole new way of being.
I think perhaps this little holiday of a few days at Kairakau in early April was a real turning point.
We now see our own land through the eyes of the sacred & the heart of belonging & that, can never be taken away from us.
So here, I am once more, writing our story- recording our journey home.
It only takes about 40 minutes to get to Kairakau beach from our place and the weather was pretty variable and crazy, yet we had the most wonderful time and we've been talking about & recalling our adventure ever since.
Good old salt-of-the-earth Mo had set the fire and the mouse trap and ensured we had everything that we might need for a happy stay. A retired orchardist he was on the go the whole time we were there- taking care of everything & everybody in this little Central Hawke's Bay seaside settlement.
When you travel by car, you can take whatever you like- well almost. We stopped at a little organics place just out of Waipawa & found these lovely little flowers for $4.50. I stood with my mouth open for a second and said "What $4.50!" Then, gratefully paid for them.
Sometimes small places harbour quirky interesting people (no not Rob). There's a mosaic lady out here who's very clever and left her mark all over the show.
Just along the very short road at the beachfront you cannot help but notice the track going- up!  The only thing is- that track doesn't look nearly so steep when you observe other people going up it, as it actually is when you try to do the same. 
So when we looked at each other and said "shall we?" we had no idea that when we got half way up, scrambling in the howling wind with all that slippery grass, that neither of us might feel safe to contemplate coming back down again & I didn't fancy skidding down on my bottom! I was pretty sure that tumbling might occur, so we decided there had to be another way.
So up & up we went- thinking that if we headed along the top of the cliffs we must surely find another route down any time soon.
No, not that way Rob.
There were a few fast words about now- I can you tell.
We had two options (or so we thought) keep going across the cliffs to the next bay & walk back along the beach, or head across the farmland & catch up with the road over "there" & hope it took us "home". Those smooth paddocks were, in fact, puggy & deeply pocked but eventually we made it down to the road before dark...
just in time to see Mrs Tiggywinkle wander across the lawn to greet us.
Fortunately we had thought of a nice simple dinner before heading off & that ginger scrumpy certainly went down a treat.
The following day we decided to take a drive to the next beach around the coast.
It turned out that that beach was called Mangakuri & although we've lived here for 30 years, we'd never heard of it before.
We foraged rosehips & sand dune baby potatoes!
Naked ladies seemed appropriately sited in the dunes.
As we traveled the unsealed country roads we came across a dear little very old church at Mangakuri.
We were amazed to find that it was open.
It seemed a bit peculiar to find thousands of dead flies all over the floor & we wondered if anyone had been here in recent months- years even!
Later I discovered that there had, in fact, been a delightful celebration only the previous weekend.
A gathering of a House of Bishops no less!

It's quite handy being the passenger & to be travelling at a sedate speed, so as not to miss a thing- so when I realised that the crunch & scrunch under the car wheels was the crushing of chestnuts I called for a halt & we were soon greeted by a keen little friend.
We gathered piles of enormous sweet chestnuts & walnuts just from the roadside as we passed through Waipari station.
The next beach is Pourerere. What an unexpected sight it was to see these three standing here gazing out to sea.
We had no idea the rich history tucked in to this sandy cove. For a young nation - this place is our grass roots.
We didn't like the beach itself very much. There's not the cosy community feel of Mangakuri. Pourerere felt plain & unwelcoming even though some of the landscape was starkly beautiful.

It wasn't until we were leaving that we discovered
a mysterious gateway with a sign about another old church. Like many before us (we were to later discover) we unsuspectingly wandered up through the old overgrown garden to see what we might find at the top....
oh-oh, the church had been sold & it was now someone's home.
Quickly we turned tail & scuttled back down to safety.
But, all was not lost, as directly across the road was yet another gate with a sign- "Pourerere Church Knoll"
So up the path we wandered- again...past the masses of stinking iris (Iris foetidissima)
& found a lovely little church graveyard
sun dial
..filled with interesting bits of local history.
Having learned of the wonderful healing benefits of elm recently I was intrigued to see this elm stump & how with a last fading pulse of vitality this old tree had woven itself a crown atop it's mortal wound.
What resilience!
We barely met another vehicle on these lovely back roads as we tiki-toured around.
We got back to Kairakau just in time to dash across the river at low tide 

arrested by showers & rainbows in the journey

before scrambling up to the look out on the other side. 

Flying home again...
we found mushrooms to add to our baby potatoes for our dinner.
On our gentle journey home the next day we stopped to forage the most delicious pears I have ever eaten.
And three different kinds of wild apples..
some that like to make nests.
The hawthorn berries were in abundance too, although they cannot be picked quickly- for the thorns.
The rich abundance we came home with we are still eating months later.

We can't wait to go back & explore the area again. This lovely old historic bach has rather captured our hearts.

Perhaps we'll get to stay there, maybe we'll just picnic at the church knoll. However it all unfolds it'll be a grand adventure for sure, in this land we've come to love with all our hearts.


Related Posts with Thumbnails