Lughnasadh in the Waning Moon

Herbalism is a craft that is inextricably entwined with the heartbeat of Nature, and the Rhythms of Life. As the seasons come and go, so do the plants: Growing, flowering, setting seed and fading as the year does. And with all this are the birds that come and go, following the food and warmth into the northern states and back again, while on the ground animals born last spring are becoming well grown, and hopefully, thriving.

In August I am watching Goldenrod, for the first buds that tell me it’s ready to share it’s exuberant goodness with those who are supporting urinary tract health and mitigating allergies. Our most common species is Solidago canadensis, but most of the Goldenrods will work well in conditions of bladder concerns, achy kidneys, edema in the feet, and seasonal itchy nose.

The energy of our Mugwort, Artemisia ludoviciana is so heady right now that it induces a sort of giddiness, leaving me near to surrendering to a porch swing in my garden to just revel in it. Mugwort is known for facilitating dream work, and dreaming surrounded by the puffy white clouds of the not-so-hot mornings in the Dog Days of summer does not seem like a bad thing.

Another plant that calls me to the fields now is Gumweed. Here that’s likely to be Grindelia ciliata. It may not be quite ready to share its resins yet, but it’s such a treat to see those pointed, silk-shiny buds nestled in their sticky calyxes, getting ready for the signal to open. Amid the heat and bristling grasses of summer, they harbor an astonishing beauty, and the final extract is a loved ally for respiratory conditions such our recent pandemic has handed us.

The herbs call loudly now, and August also speaks of food,
our first medicine.

You may have heard me say at times…
We are tied to the Earth through our food.
Now, the hot end of summer call us to the first harvest.

The Irish holiday of Lughnasadh falls at the halfway point between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox. It is traditionally celebrated on August 1st, but the actual astronomical midpoint has moved to around August 4th, 5th or 6th, depending on the year. The land is rich with ripe grain and fruits, and as the days grow shorter, the idea of setting aside food for the winter begins to tease at the edges of our daily plans.

In the often wrenching heat of the Dog Days of Summer, as Sirius shines in the predawn sky, Lughnasadh signals the first harvest. Earth’s bounty has transformed from the flowers of June to the fruits that follow, and we can gather for future months.

Each year around this time there is a wistful moment when I know the energy has shifted, and and that we have moved on to the gold grain colors and feelings of late summer. I know, too, that soon the cicada song will wind down, and by middle August, birds will start to gather in advance of their autumn journeys. Lughnasadh seems to mark the end of an exuberant holiday, and the beginning of preparations for dark and cold that are not even yet in sight. This year the waning moon adds to that background energy of ebb.

Aligning with this halfway point between Summer Solstice and the first day of Autumn brings a potent reminder of our relationship to the changing earth.

In six weeks it will be autumn. The rhythms of earth are winding down, and call us to reflect on the summer that is already slipping away. (How did that happen so fast?!) Here at least, things feel ragged now in the heat and dryness that characterize this time in the Wheel of the Year. It is hard to keep the garden looking tended as plants get leggy and wildness takes over. That swing and a sprig of Mugwort are looking better. But ahhhh, it is in the time of Lughnasadh. The herbs are calling from the open prairie, and now is the time to gather. Living with the rhythms of nature means you are on her time, responding with pleasure to the world that is unfolding in this moment. Such a sweet form of mindfulness. And the Mugwort and swing will still be there, when I am done.

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November 22, 2020December 21, 2020

Autumn, Land and Spirit: Reflections on Gratitude

We are tied to the earth through food.

In antiquity, my Celtic ancestors and much of Europe celebrated the Wheel of the Year in their own special ways, often with fire and feasting. As the sun and the stars cycled from day to night to day, the seasons flowed in a never changing, ever changing rhythm of sun-time, planting and harvest.

The high points were:

Midsummer (what we now call the start of summer) around June 21
The Equinoxes that mark the start of spring and fall
Midwinter, around December 21
and the half-way points between all of those.

Those who follow the Celtic Wheel of the Year still celebrate these today, as a way of honoring and attuning with the Earth, and the celestial energies of the solar cycle. No matter what continent your ancestors came from, it is certain they, too, marked time in wonder at the changing the night sky, the angle and location of the sun, and the plants that bloomed and faded. What was happening as the seasons passed was reflected in the food on their tables.

Now, encouraged by an agriculture industry and world body politic which has co-opted our food as a human right and restructured it as a commodity, our consumption of food is divorced from an awareness of the lives that were taken to make it, and also divorced from the seasons, since it can be shipped from any place, at any time. As fewer and fewer people on this continent grow their own food, it has become cheapened with the label of Common, and often taken for granted by those with means: A throw-away commodity in plastic, that someone else grew, processed or synthesized; a thing that one can always get again from the store. But it was not always so.

Connection: Land, Food and Spirit

Prior to the Industrial Age and certainly in ancient times, there was a natural reverence for the food and animals that people depended on; and matters of faith were interleaved with gratitude for food, and an awareness of the stars, and the land. Celebrations of the divine were often entwined with times of planting and harvest. This was not just an expression of the Celtic lands. Throughout the world cultural festivals of seasons and harvests were, and still are juxtaposed with, or part of, the prevailing faith celebrations of an area; and revolved around the table, and food shared.

Woman, Grain harvest — by Cesar Carlevarino, Unsplash

In the pre-Christian countries of Europe, as autumn brightened then waned, what we call “The Harvest” was actually celebrated as a succession of harvests, as grains and fruits of late summer ripened; then more grains; then nuts, seeds and gourds. As the year neared its end, farmers would choose which animals to slaughter for winter meat. That too was a harvest, and in the Wheel of the Year is accounted the final one, a last chance to provide from the herd for the cold months. People paid the price for food with their labor, and the lives of their crops and animals. They celebrated their gratitude not once a year, but in each season.

How do you celebrate the time of the harvests
or throughout the autumn?
What ties to the land do you personally observe?
What is the role of community?
How can these change or evolve to better reflect an awareness of our connections with all life?

The answers to these questions are a reminder that our ties to land have historically been so important that they are part of the cultural fabric that includes spiritual awareness, land awareness and community. In a year that has upended our rhythms tied to machine-life, I find myself embracing the Earth Rhythms of the harvest, to slow my pace, and reconsider celebrations of connection between food, people and planet.

Feel the deepness of waning autumn around you, as you take time to reflect on the life-bounty we are gifted with, even in this year of great challenge. The answers to the questions above are a starting place for new ways of connecting with Earth, and her abundant gifts, both personally and in community. At this time of interrupt in our old forms, it is possible to leave behind those rooted in commercialization and colonialism, and remember the sacred circle of people, land and spirit. It is an opportunity to craft personal or communal celebrations of gratitude that are deeper, more frequent, and more relational to the world that brings us our food.

Wishing you abundance,

Joan

A favorite drink for times of contemplation. This recipe is a starting place, and is a nice one to experiment with. It supports subtle opening to the inner world.

Per person, use:

1 cup of your favorite milk (dairy, coconut, almond, etc.)
1 Tablespoon 100% Cocoa powder (no additives, sugar, etc.)
1/2 teaspoon dried peppermint leaf, or to taste
1/2 teaspoon lemon balm leaf
up to 1/2 teaspoon dried orange peel, or to taste
Stevia or other non-sugar sweetener to taste

Warm the milk until very warm but not scalding.
Add the dry ingredients and sweetener, and stir well.
Steep at a warm level, but do not simmer, covered on lowest heat (or no heat but occasionally turn the heat back on) for 20 minutes.

Strain, sip and be delighted.
Optional: Add a dropper of Reishi tincture to your cup of tea after straining. Be prepared to sit in a quiet space, and go within.

If you would like to learn more about herbal lifestyles and reweaving your connections with earth rhythms, click here to visit Joan’s events page

Or here to join here to join the Prairie Star Herbalist Connection.
(Learn More about Prairie Star here!)

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July 10, 2020February 28, 2021

Summer 2020 – Time for Yourself

Summer

Solstice has come and gone, and now the sunlight fades a little earlier each day. The Motherwort in my garden is spent, and the Monarda’s stunning purple falls away. In the rhythms of life, of the earth, summer brings us to the hot, bright spot on the wheel of the year, where Goldenrod, Poke and Sunflowers ready their buds in the heat.

Summer corresponds to other rhythms as well: Noon, and the full moon, when energies are high and dreams are born. This is the time of fullness, as the land brings crops and plants into readiness for a harvest to come — by us, and by birds and animals who already dine on the bounty of my juniper berries and hollyhock seeds. It is the time of high activity, creating, and exuberant life.

But what a different summer this is. There is a surreal overlay as the stress of uncertainty features in the ongoing days, and loss and the constant need for adjustment take their toll. How do we navigate the time before us? The same way humans have always navigated difficult changes in their circumstances. We will pause, and assess, and learn, and create new options. But now, in the middle of a global pandemic, on the edge of a longed-for social justice revolution, faced with mounting loss of loved ones, jobs and income, it feels as if the overwhelm may not end. In this moment, self care and compassion become the greatest gifts you can give yourself. Finding or creating time to feel safe, loved, and at peace is a critical strategy of self care. As you do this, aligning with Earth Rhythms and our common herbal allies are powerful gifts.

Ease

Faced with overwhelm, it’s important to first disconnect from the what’s causing it — even if just for a few minutes. This is like pulling away from a hot pan that you have touched. It removes the source of the damage, so the skin can cool, and heal. The healing is deeper if you will choose to:

- - Put the phone away
  - Give yourself permission to set aside all the worrying thoughts just for that time, and insist that they be still. (Tell yourself that you can come back to them, but this is your time to disengage.)
  - Give yourself completely to whatever you are doing.

Sunlight

Your body makes the critical hormone we call Vitamin D using sunlight. Without it, body repair slows down; and depression, lethargy and a sense of distress usually increase. Outside the summer is going on. What about taking some special time each day to ground, and root yourself deep into the earth? Morning is a great time, not long after you wake up. Energizing sunlight right then helps set the body’s rhythm for falling asleep at night. Just stand barefoot on the earth and see your energies going going, like roots, deeper and deeper into the earth’s core. Both the physical touch of feet on earth and the visualization are powerful.

And that bright noon sun! Try sitting or walking outdoors for at least 30 minutes between 11 AM and 1 PM each day. Breathe in the sunlight, and see it invigorating every cell in your body. Watch puffy clouds if you have them, and free yourself from everything external, to connect deeply with the world around you. It’s a meditation in itself, and so nourishing!

Herb Bathing

Take an old sock that it’s okay to stain, a large muslin bag, or a square foot of cotton, and fill it with an herb for a soothing bath. Tie it off in whatever way works, and set 1-2 quarts of water in a pan to boil. When the water comes to a boil, turn it off, and add the sock or bag full of herb. Poke it down with a chopstick to help it become saturated, put a lid on, and wait 30-40 minutes. In the meantime, draw a warm bath, and light a candle or two in the bath room, if you’d like. (Time it to be ready when your herbs are done.) When they have steeped, make sure your closure on the bag or sock is really tight, then pour the whole pan, herbs and all, into the bath water, and join them! Breathe deeply and enjoy the down time.

Herbs I love for this are Mugwort (cooling, so good if you’re hot natured, and can promote dreaming), Lavender buds or leaves (Ahhh, my favorite!), Rose buds, and Calendula. (If you have dried or fresh Calendula flowers you can just throw them loose in the tub, and watch them expand and drift, but you’ll need to skim them out with a big strainer before you pull the plug!)

Tea for One — A Ritual

This is a ritual of self care, that begins with connecting with a plant. Choose a tea for it’s aromatic, or enlivening, or soothing properties, and consider it for a moment. What draws you to the plant that this comes from? Boil some water in a pan or teapot, and select a lovely place to drink it where you will not be disturbed. That could be at the table, or on the porch, or on a blanket in the grass. Be inventive! Set your place with a teapot and cup; put tea in your vessel to steep, and pour the water when it’s ready, straining if needed.

Notice everything that you can about the tea: The warmth and smell of the steam, the initial color of the tea and how it changes, the smell of the herb. Enter a meditative space for 3-5 minutes while the tea steeps. Pour your tea, noticing it’s fragrance and color. Sip, and explore the taste. Is it bitter? Astringent? Tannic? Sweet? What else? Breathe deeply and let your thoughts be calm and flowing as you enjoy your tea and your sacred space.

My favorite uplifting teas for this are Black or Green tea with Clove, Orange Peel and Cardamom. (The spices are warming, so use less, or try honey instead if you are hot natured.) My favorite relaxing brews for this are Chamomile, Linden, Hawthorn and Lavender.

Flow

When the nervous system is nourished and supple, it’s easier to flow with life. Some herbal allies have a gift for nourishing and soothing the nervous system from within. To make any of these herbal infusions, use 1/4 to 1/2 cup of herb* to a pint of water. Plan to let it steep for at least 4 hours, up to overnight. Several of these are really bitter (and that’s part of the medicine!), so adding honey or stevia is fine. As you drink them, be sure to tune in to their taste and energies.
* Exception: Marshmallow. Instructions are below.

1. Chamomile (Matricaria recutita) An antispasmodic, anti-inflammatory and gentle calming herb. Also a digestive bitter, so it’s great if anxiety unsettles the stomach. Try a strong pint, divided into 3 doses 20 minutes before meals during the day for daytime calm and to sleep easier at night.

2. Linden (Tilia europea) I love this herb! A lovely ally when the stomach is nervous, blood pressure goes up from anxiety, and overwhelm creeps in. It can ease grief, and relieve heart inflammation. I make a strong infusion to drink on many days, and use it as a weaker tea for my tea ritual (above) just so I can just smell it. I’m convinced this is one of the gifts of the fey to us for times of change.

3. Marshmallow (Althea officinalis) Such a soother! It is demulcent, anti-inflammatory, wound healing, and more. When we become dried out from summer heat, so does our nervous system. Drinking a demulcent tea on a regular basis can bring flow, and counter depression and sleeplessness. This one is easiest to make: stir a 1/2 teaspoon powdered herb into a pint of filtered water at room temperature. Let it sit for 4-8 hours, strain, and drink all day as a beverage. It will have a slightly thick consistency, and you want that! You can even leave the powder in the jar and stir it well before you drink. Did I mention? — It’s a nutritive tonic, as well.

4. Oats (Avena sativa) This is a nervine tonic, and considered a longevity drink in the Ayurvedic tradition. Drink a pint of strong infusion a day as a beverage for as long as you want, to add a soothing flow to nerve energy. It’s B-vitamins, minerals and saponins are wonderful nourishment for the nervous system.

5. Skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora) A supreme nervine tonic, that imparts a regenerative effect. It is notably calming, and perfect to use before doing any of the other interventions above. You can use the 1/4 cup amount long term for extended nervous tension and nervous exhaustion during the day, and benefit from easier sleep at night. Reduce to 2-3 Tbs if 1/4 cup makes you sleepy.
“Side-Flowered Skullcap” by pchgorman is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

This time calls to us to bring our gifts of creativity and love to the front, to heal what can be healed for ourselves, each other, and the planet. It is the Change Time, and our gifts are needed. Our Allies are here for us, and we can be here for the world, if we give ourselves the care we need to nurture strength and resilience. May this sharing help you thrive, and may you be well. — Joan

Joan is offering support online at reduced rates for those who want help navigating the stress of these times. Contact her here for a free phone consultation to learn more.

If you would like to learn more about herbal lifestyles and reweaving your connections with earth rhythms, click here to visit Joan’s events page, and be sure to sign up for her newsletter.
She will be adding virtual events soon,
and any delays or cancellations in previously scheduled events
will be noted as they occur.

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January 18, 2020February 2, 2020

Earth Rhythms: Reweaving the Lost Connections

winter mug It is mid January, and the world is grey today, with a magical cold softness, held in the now-damp air. Fallen leaves lie still, hiding mysteries that wait for spring, to be revealed in warmth and rain. I have reveled for a month in the pause that starts just before winter solstice, when Earth creates a container for the energy of darkness and cold here. It is a time of reflection, deep roots, and transforming in silence. I depend on it for health in the rest of the year like I depend on sleep for health each day. It is a time to indulge with abandon in the pleasures of warm throws, quiet dark, hot teas, and soft fireside conversations that reach deep. This rhythm of darkness and cold is one of earth’s rhythms on the prairie, and in these latitudes around the world. It is known by our cells, and held in our ancestral memories as a time of regeneration and community. It is a critical rhythm in the wheel of the year, when we can feed our inner wellsprings; yet it is unknown, or unengaged with, by many, many people.

We cannot wholly be disconnected from all of earth’s rhythms, or we would wither away, bereft of the unseen information streams between people, plant, and earth. But we collectively live out of harmony with some of them, and without conscious awareness of others, as if walking with someone who was a friend once, that we no longer acknowledge is there. Our cells, nervous systems and spirits miss those flows. It is clear from the awakening calling people to herbalism, shamanism and other pathways that connect us to earth, that we long to come again into harmony with the planet that is our home, and the other beings who live here. Doing that can affect our ability to heal in profound ways. This post begins a series of explorations about the rhythms of life that coordinate many of our biological and inner responses to our world, and without which we simply cannot get well. In these I will share a profile of the rhythms, herbs and practices that I find helpful in the journey.

The Rhythm of Winter

tree in fog

Even in this suburban spot on the prairie whose seasons have warmed through at least forty years of climate change, the energy of deep winter holds sway for a little longer. Without snow, without ice, but slow and cold for a little while yet, nourishing resilience in body and spirit that will feed vitality through the activity of the year. Now, in this last two weeks before the half-way place between Sunreturn and Equinox, there is still time to nurture the seeds of of the year’s work, before the time of quiet dark fades behind.

Deep Roots

One way to connect with the rhythm of winter is to — stop! Do nothing. Turn off the phone and feel the warmth of air on your skin and sense your heart beat. The heart is the organ of the 6th sense, long suppressed now; the seat of our clarity and intuition. Accessing this space in yourself often can help you override messages from the outer world, and clarify what you truly need and want — the realm of your heart’s longings. This simple exercise brings heart, nervous system and spirit together:

Heart Connection

Let go of your thoughts, and breathe in and out through your heart while cultivating a feeling of love for someone in your life. It can be a person, a pet, or the beings around you.
♦ See your inner Divine as a spark within.
♦ Imagine a bridge of light from that spark to your heart .
♦ Radiate love to yourself and the world for a minute, then sit in stillness.

Your own greatest wisdom emerges from silence.

Nourish Deeply

As the cold days roll on, melancholy can set in, especially if the days remain grey for long. That’s the time for nourishment with winter roots and broths. The energy of roots flows downward and is oh, so grounding. As they anchor the living plant, so they help to anchor us. Root energy supports inner work and the pensive inner reflections that are often part of winter. They are filled with micronutrients, antioxidants and minerals.

Vegetable broths that include a wide variety of vegetables along with mushrooms and seaweed, or bone broths made from clean, organic bones along with local greens and herbs are both nutrient dense foods that can form a base for soups in winter. Don’t you love the rich, taste of a soup on a cold day?

Here is a simple recipe that uses both
broth and roots for a warming, semi-sweet soup:

1 each small: golden beet, parsnip, burdock root.
1/2 cup onion, diced
1-2 Tbsp olive oil
3 cups vegetable stock
— or —
1 cup bone broth plus 2 cups chicken stock
A sprinkling of thyme, rosemary, sage, coriander and marjoram.
Sea salt and pepper to taste.
1-2 Tbs chia seed
dash of nutmeg

Chop and lightly saute all the roots in 1-2 Tbs olive oil. Add the broth / stock, salt and pepper. Simmer until roots are softer but not yet tender. Add the chia seed and herbs.

Cook until roots are tender and the soup has some body. Whole cream makes a nice addition to this in the bowl, if dairy is an option.

May you enjoy, and may the lingering days of winter offer you
time for wonder, and for regeneration.

Fireplace

If you would like to learn more about herbal lifestyles and reweaving your connections with earth rhythms, click here to visit Joan’s events page,
and be sure to sign up for her newsletter.
She will be adding more events soon!

You can follow her on facebook here.

December 22, 2019January 3, 2020

Connecting with the Gifts of Winter

Part of the call to return to the way of herbs is, for most of us, an underlying longing to reconnect with the Earth, her cycles, and her life. One way we honor that call is to participate in the gifts each season beckons us to receive, as the wheel turns, each time. In our culture that has become so Yang, so overactive and doing, the gift of being often goes unseen.

Into Darkness

Winter reaches out to us with gifts of quiet, darkness, stillness, and the chance for introspection. Just as the seed rests in the dark womb of Earth in winter, our own creativity is nourished in the heart of our stillness. Freed for a moment from planting, preparing, and harvesting, the ebb cycle of earth-life offers us a chance to to conserve our energy, and tend deeply to our non-physical being. At Winter Solstice I find myself reflecting on these gifts. There is a safety in withdrawing from busyness, and seeking our own center for renewal and regeneration. It is a place I always long for after the high activity of autumn.

A Winter Ally

As we enter our inner world, herbs can serve as allies to open the gateways of our spirits. These need not be exotic herbs. Some of our most powerful allies are well known plants that we have partnered with for millennia. One such ally is Rosemary, Rosemarinus officinalis, now named Salvia rosemarinus, a tender perennial evergreen where I live. Her warming, blood moving energy allows the peripheral parts of the body, out to the skin, to be vitalized and protected, as we sit in stillness. She is steadfast, with heart opening qualities that can help allay melancholy that sometimes arises during the inner work of clearing out the debris of an old year, to make room for the new. Her evergreen scent opens and clears our spaces, making room for new and brighter energies, calming the mind and emotions at the same time it lifts the spirits. Rosemary’s gift for aiding memory is real. It was known from ancient times as an herb to strengthen the mind, and now science has validated what healers of 2000 years ago knew. Moderate amounts used long term work well to support cerebral circulation and nourish the brain. It is a wonderful warming helper in the dark months, when the shorter days sometimes foster an inner gloom.

And Rosemary supports the heart. The heart has an abundance of neurons governing many tasks in the body, and it is clear from the work of the HeartMath Institute and others that the heart has an intelligence of its own¹. It processes external and internal information, and plays a role in intuition. I first learned of Rosemary’s gift for helping to heal the emotional and physical heart after a loss, when I sat with this plant friend for hours. It came clearly to my mind that I should take the leaves to help me ease my grief — and they did. It was not until months later, while researching, that I learned that Rosemary is indeed an herb that is considered healing to the heart in multiple dimensions.

The first and best way to use Rosemary is in food. If you are fortunate enough to have this herb in your garden, take snippets to use often in salads, soups, beans, and savory dishes with meat or fish. (Harvest with care in winter, as the plant is stressed from cold, and probably thirsty. Water is a good gift to return to it, in our dry winters.) Or perhaps you have dried rosemary, that you gathered when leaves were at their plumpest, when they drank in the summer summer sun. In addition to using on your food, try it dried as incense to clear the air of microorganisms and stale energies, or as a tea with a little honey before meals as a bitter.

Aligning with the Gifts

Now in winter, this evergreen friend calls to me. It is time to stop the clock, as even the sun seems to pause in it’s journey. Time to sip my tea and follow my breath, allowing my senses to quiet, as I sit in silence, to just be. Dark has come here, and I will settle in by my fire, embracing the gifts of winter; reaching out with my inner senses to my plants and garden in this season. And reaching inward to let my heart ponder what matters: What I will choose not to carry forward, and what to nourish in the light of the returning sun. Connecting to Earth and the season of Winter, the sharp evergreen scent of Rosemary reminds that though all may appear barren outside, life awaits beneath the surface, if we nurture what we wish to see grow.

1. https://www.heartmath.org/resources/videos/science-of-the-heart/

A Short Meditation

It is best to read these instruction through then set them aside. You will be sitting in the dark for a time. And of course you can adapt this any way that serves you.

You will need:
A form of Rosemary: dried, tea, tincture, oil or fresh leaf. Just a small amount is fine.
A candle and matches.
A comfortable place to sit where you won’t be disturbed for a few minutes.

1. Arrange the Rosemary, candle and matches where you can place your hands on them from your chair. Dim or turn off the lights, and sit comfortably.
Take a few deep breaths, allowing your thoughts and heart to slow.
Sip or nibble a bit of your Rosemary, connecting with the plant in your thoughts.
Notice the taste, the quality of any energy you can sense, and where you feel it in your body.
Breathe with that for a few minutes.

Now ask for her gifts of remembrance and heart support, and visualize your mind and heart receiving them.

2. Turning your attention to the darkness, sense it around you.
Notice how you feel about being in the dark, in stillness.
Is there anxiety? Restlessness? Peace? Ease? Calm? Or….?
Just observe without judgment, or trying to change anything, for a few minutes.

Let come into your mind something in your life or about yourself that you would like to release. It need not be from the recent year. Any unwanted emotion, habit, or concern — let it surface in the stillness.

Name it, saying, “[what you’re releasing] is lost to the night!” Repeat this three times with intention, feeling it release. See it gone, dissolving into the impartial darkness. Again, sip or nibble your rosemary, sensing her wholesome, evergreen scent, and energy of clearing.

3. Now light your candle, a symbol of light returning.
Sit for several minutes in silence, allowing thoughts to surface as they will.
In just allowing, you are sowing the seeds of creativity that your subconscious will integrate as gifts to you in the future.

If anything stands out that you want to take forward, write it down. If not, that’s okay too. There will be time to revisit this meditation throughout the winter if you choose, and as the light grows, you may find a growing connection with your herbal ally.

Connect with Joan at Events and Workshops

https://www.brightcircleherbcraft.com/events/

The herbs call loudly now, and August also speaks of food, our first medicine.