* This article is dedicated to honor the earth. To the importance of Wilderness Therapy and to how the earth offers us healing in our times of need.
Here in my hand is sea buckthorn. A small and unassuming berry. We grow it on our land. A suburban plot with under an acre to work with.
The berries are teensy and they sometimes coat the trees branches in abundance and other times they hide in between the tree’s thin silver leaves. They are considered a superfood. They are positively packed with vitamins, antioxidants, minerals, protein and fiber. They are said to easily rival Acai and Goji in their potency, which I will just put for reference since I imagine many of you have heard of those superfoods.
I harvested this medicine earlier this day, while the fall teased us with a crisp morning, and the red wing black birds created a cacophony of song in the trees next door.
My boys played in the flowers, looking for roly polys and squealing in their happiness. As I slowly plucked each berry from its home, my brain began to link this moment, this medicine, with my current experiences.
I am creating something new; in my business and in my life. And in this movement of growth and newness, there are losses; both expected and surprising.
(There is something so potent to behold in the little deaths that reside in all our births)
So, lately as I explore what’s next, I have attracted an interesting mix of experiences into my life. And through it all I can sense the call of something new.
As I hold these tart little berries in my hand, as my children’s voices wash over me, I am struck with two questions.
What kind of medicine do I want to bring to the world?
What kind of medicine do I want to surround myself with?
The medicine I am wanting to give and receive is not prescribed. It is not orderly.
It is natural and untamed and messy and, therefore, it is sometimes misunderstood.
It is rooted in the earth. It is ingrained in ancestry. It is fierce in its power. It is elemental.
As I look at the spaciousness suddenly appearing in my life, and as I look at the old medicines that no longer serve me, I reach for this new growth.
And this moment, in the nature of my own front yard, on a small plot of land in Colorado, this moment helped me ground into my path. As I place these berries into the basket, I breathe into the fear of the unknown and I feel myself come home into my body.
The medicine I want to bring to the world is all around me. It infuses us with the wild. The untamed. The raw and real, feet-on-the-earth, howl at the moon medicine. The balm that see the wounds in the strengths and the strengths in the wounds. The gathering that invites in the elements and busts the lid off of containment. The salve that helps shift your should’s into affirmations or washes you clean of them in the afternoon thunderstorm. The healing that delights in your mess and cherishes your realness.
The understanding that all this work we do, is always evolving and never done, and as we do it we heal the systems around us, including the earth itself.
So, here is to sea buckthorn. This year it will nourish our bodies as it inspires my movement.
My hope? When you are in a place of transition, I hope you can find the time to go into nature and get curious about what your intuition is telling you. And I hope you can trust what you hear.