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In the beginning was the word. After that came the concept and then, piece by piece, we began amassing knowledge of the world.

But what came before the word? Before our minds began to conceptualise? It can only have been the experience, alive and present in the moment. The word was only ever meant to be a reference point, a useful tool in describing experience, our own innate knowledge. But somewhere along the line we have crowned it King.

My point is that, when I consider how so many in our society regard issues  of science, health and disease, it seems that concepts have come to have more value than experience and, as a result, our approach has become stagnant. To put it another way, we have forgotten how to listen to our own bodies and hearts.

A few weeks ago I saw someone who told me she felt bad every time she ate dairy but, as the tests had come back negative for a food intolerance, she continued to eat it. I asked her why she placed more value on a test than the experience of her own body. She seemed surprised. I have seen many people change their diet because of something they read even though they don’t feel good on it, take up strenuous exercise even though their joints are hurting, drink wine every weekend even though it plays havoc with their digestion etc. We have let our minds totally take over and have become slaves to knowledge as it appears in theory rather than as it appears in our living awareness.

Right now herbal education in the UK is becoming increasingly more research driven in an attempt to keep up with the scientific model of healthcare, a model which is at best disempowering and at worst highly exploitative. And at what cost?  If a doctor/ herbalist/ person in a white coat with the letters BSc after their name tells us we should do something we just do it, even if the wisdom of own body says ‘stop’?

Our experience is alive because we are in the awareness of it at the present moment. With our minds firmly in control of the reins however, the concept – already a dead thing- has gained supremacy over what we are actually experiencing. I bumped into a friend last week on my way home and we started discussing a certain journalist who is notoriously anti-natural medicine. She said, “he’s got three degrees in science, he knows what he’s talking about.” I must say, this did little to change my mind. Let’s face it, I could have three degrees in theology but does that mean I know God?

What I mean by this is that studying doesn’t necessarily lead you to a deeper understanding of the thing itself, which can only be gained by experience. Study is very useful of course and is something many of us, myself included, enjoy and get much benefit from, but it is also dangerous because it can lead to a certain arrogance and the assumption that we know things, and that we know them better than you do. All we really know is that concepts and theories are changing and becoming outdated all the time but unlike experience, which is lived in the awareness of change, theory encourages us to hold onto something and cement it in our minds as ‘true’ or ‘untrue’. Experience is ever fresh, ever changing, always in the present, and as such, there can be nothing to hang onto.

One last example. Recently, another friend sent me an article written by a neuroscientist about how meditation had been proven to be effective – never mind that meditators have known this for centuries upon centuries through direct experience. The scientist went on to say that Buddhism was, in someways, acceptable to science because of the teaching of ‘no self’ as science has never managed to find something that could be called the self. Reading this guy’s description of no self made me laugh because it was so clear he had very rigid ideas about himself, despite the fact that science told him otherwise. Whilst he knew about this idea of ‘no self’ had had absolutely no experience of it. Contrast this with a great meditation master whose direct experience of selflessness is like a beacon shining from their very being and you can be left in no doubt that it is the experience which liberates, not the concept. The article is here if you have the inclination to read it.

So anyway, if you’re still with me by now, what I’m really getting at here is that we must learn to trust ourselves again. We can do so within a framework of study and knowledge but with mind as servant to experience rather than as the Grand Ringmaster, forever running the show.

“You do not possess intelligence, nor do you possess ignorance, nor do you possess a mixture of these two. You are yourself intelligence. An intelligence that never ceases and never strays. ”  Avadhuta Gita

The Autumn King

If the Oak is the King of the woods than at no time is his reign more glorious than in autumn when his leaves glow gold and many beings are nourished from his acorns.

Whenever I have lived or wandered abroad I cannot think of Britain without thinking of oak trees. Perhaps then it’s appropriate that I have ended up in a village whose name means ‘place covered with oaks’ or ‘overshadowed by oaks’. Nowadays there are not so many great oaks remaining but sometimes, my husband and I like to stand atop the Downs and dream of the time when everything before us; the farmer’s fields, the gardens, the roads would all have been covered with oak trees.

Whilst the autumn colours of the oak are not as showy as some of the more exotic trees that are visible at this time of year in parks and gardens, their subtle beauty is somehow more deeply fulfilling. I said to my husband as we walked at the weekend, ‘the maples are pleasing to my eyes, but the oaks are pleasing to my heart.’

Oaks were said to be sacred to the Druids. Some suggest the name ‘Druid’ actually comes from the old Gaelic name for oak, Duir, though others have dismissed this saying that instead, it originates from Dru – meaning ‘highest’ and vid – meaning ‘knowledge.’ Who knows the truth, but I cannot imagine any race who lived amongst the oaks would not have held them sacred. Oaks appear in the mythology of many lands and there are about 600 species in the genus across the world.

The oak has many associations with protection and strength, partly because of the numbers of creatures that it shelters in its bows. Apparently it houses the greatest biodiversity of herbivorous insects of any British plant. Even in death it is home to a great many insects. In the Bach flower remedies, oak is given to those who offer their strength to others and keep persevering until they themselves end up drained and exhausted. Taking the remedy is thought to re-establish the positive qualities of oak, those of courage, protection, strength and endurance.

The oak tree was also associated with weather gods as apparently, it is hit by lightning more often than other trees. It has featured alongside the Gods of thunder and lightning in many European cultures, from Zeus of the ancient Greeks, to the Norse Thor and the Baltic Perkunas. This weekend however, it was also resplendent in the sunshine.

Acorns were of great importance to country folk as  a primary food source for their pigs in autumn. Before this, they were  also an important food source for people themselves and were eaten by a variety of cultures from all over the world. To eat acorns they must be soaked or boiled first to remove the tannic acid. I read a recipe for acorn muffins the other day, it sounded perfect for eating round the fire with a spicy herbal chai when the dark days of winter are upon us.

And of course the oak has its place in herbal medicine as well. A very useful astringent, the bark can be used to staunch bleeding of all kinds from haemorrhoids to a mouthwash for bleeding gums.

In pagan mythology the Oak King was said to reign from mid-winter to mid-summer, after which the Holly King took his turn on the throne for the second half of the year. But for me, Autumn will always be the time of the oak.

What is your favourite autumn tree?

I finally managed to get out onto the top of the Downs last week to collect my harvest of yarrow. It was the prefect day for it, with bright sunshine to dry off the dew without being so hot that the volatile oils were too quick to evaporate. Now the tincture is steeping away and the flowers are dried for teas so it seems like the perfect time to share a few words about this most valuable of healing remedies.

Yarrow atop the South Downs.

Despite being one of the most important medicines in my healing repertoire, I have been avoiding posting about yarrow for quite sometime. This is for the simple reason that it is useful for so many things it’s hard to know where to start, yarrow really requires an entire book to itself! For simplicity’s sake I will stick to the basics here but I will revisit this wonder herb with more specific information in the future.

Yarrow is a common weed native to the Northern hemisphere that grows freely in grassland, chalk land, roadsides and other sites with well draining ground. It is instantly recognisable due to its feathery leaves, strong stems and broad white flower heads made up of many small individual flowers.

Yarrow as a Wound Healer:
This is perhaps yarrow’s most famous and most ancient use. Yarrow was found amongst other medicinal herbs in the Neanderthal burial site in Iraq which dates from around 60,000 BC and has become famous in herbal medicine as one of the earliest indications of human’s use of medicinal plants.  Myth tells us it was given to Achilles by the centaur Chiron so he could use it on the battlefield and its Latin name, Achillea millefollium, still reflects this tale. Its common names too included Soldier’s herb, herba militaris, Knight’s milfoil, carpenter’s grass and nosebleed. Yarrow is one of the most useful wound herbs we have as it staunches bleeding and is antimicrobial and pain relieving too.

Yarrow for Colds and Fevers:
It’s next greatest claim to fame is it’s ability to make us sweat. When fever is building, drinking hot teas of yarrow can help it to break by relaxing the circulation and the pores of the skin, allowing us to sweat freely and ridding the body of infection. Dr Christopher once wrote, “Yarrow, when administered hot and copiously, will raise the heat of the body, equalise the circulation and produce perspiration.” It may seem inadvisable to raise the body heat in cases of fever but by using yarrow we are supporting the body in responding to infection naturally. The classic formula for colds and flus is yarrow, peppermint and elderflower which should be drunk as a hot tea as soon as possible. The the patient should then wrap up warmly, keeping a hot water bottle at their feet and wait to sweat. When there is a high body temperature but no sweating, this formula is especially useful to help release the heat via the skin. Now is the time to get these herbs in stock before the cold and flu season strikes.

Yarrow for the Circulation:
Yarrow’s affinity for the blood and circulation can be seen internally as well as externally. It tones the blood vessels at the same time as dilating capillaries and moving the blood, thus giving it a wide range of applications. It has been used to treat high blood pressure, often in combination with Hawthorn and Lime blossom and it has a reputation for being able to prevent blood clots. It’s tonifying action makes it particularly useful for treating varicose veins and haemorrhoids. Yarrow really is a great equaliser, it moves where necessary and tones where needed. This dual action is what has given it is reputation for being able to both cure and cause nosebleeds!

Yarrow for the Digestion:
Being bitter, pungent and aromatic means that yarrow is particularly useful for stimulating the digestion and getting the bile and pancreatic juices flowing. Because of it’s affinity to the circulation as well it can help move congested blood in the portal vein which, in turn, helps the liver. Matthew Wood talks about using it for colitis and diverticulitis because of it’s ability to tone and heal the mucus membranes of the digestive tract. It was also an old traditional remedy for bloody diarrhoea and dysentery.

Yarrow for the Reproductive and Urinary Systems:
Maria Treben considers yarrow “first and foremost… a herb for women” and quotes Abbe Kneipp in saying “women could be spared many troubles if they just took yarrow tea from time to time.” It is such a wonderful herb for the reproductive systems because it can both staunch heavy bleeding and stimulate scanty bleeding. It is also wonderful when there is congestion resulting in dark clotted blood and period pains. It is useful for vaginal infections or irregular discharge as well as spotting between periods.

Yarrow is a good urinary anti-septic and, when drunk as a warm or cool (rather than hot) infusion, the diuretic properties are emphasised making it a useful remedy for cystitis and urinary tract infections. It has also been praised for helping cases of urinary incontinence. Culpepper informs us that it “helps such as cannot hold their water.”

If we think about some of the ways in which yarrow might work we can start to draw together all these different facets of it’s healing ability. When you taste yarrow it is pungent and aromatic with quite a bitter aftertaste. The volatile oils which make it so aromatic and warming are dispersive in nature and therefore are one of the things that gives yarrow this wonderful ability to move congestion and stagnation, equalise the circulation and open up the skin. Volatile oils are also often anti-microbial. The bitterness balances it’s warmth with more cooling qualities and also stimulates the digestion. Though the bitter gets our juices flowing and the aromatic qualities get things moving, you can also tell yarrow is an astringent which is what makes it so helpful for toning blood vessels. It may seem like a plant of contradictions but yarrow is just another example of how wonderfully complex our herbs can be. They demand that we know them, rather than just a list of their actions, and that we let go of linear thinking and delve into the realms of experiential understanding instead.

Preparations are usually made from the areal parts including leaf, flower and some stem, though I usually leave out the toughest bits. They can then be used in a variety of ways:

Tea – Take hot for colds and flus and warm or cool for cystitis. Or use as a wash for grazes or rashes.

Tincture – For chronic congestion in the reproductive system and high blood pressure (teas could also be used here).

Baths – For skin irritations.

Sitz baths – For cystitis, vaginal infections, bleeding fibroids, haemorrhoids, post-partum healing, heavy periods etc.

Footbaths – For chilblains.

Infused Oil – For first aid healing ointments or soothing creams for irritated skins.

Poultice or Compress – Spit poultices for wounds and first aid situations, compresses for larger areas of grazed skin.

Wound powder – Finely powdered dried herb can be sprinkled on minor wounds.

Spray – The tincture or herb infused in witch hazel can be sprayed on to varicose veins to tone and move stagnant blood.

Flower Essence – Said to be protective for those who are overly sensitive to their environments and the emotions of others.

Essential Oil – A wonderful anti-inflammatory for skin conditions.

Please note, yarrow is best avoided during pregnancy.

Yarrow was also considered a sacred herb by many cultures of the world and has lots of interesting folklore attached to it. I’ll save that for another post though!

The Harvest Moon shone bright and beautiful in the sky at the beginning of the week and it seems there is no denying it any longer, autumn is here.

Autumn signifies many things to many people but for me, aside from its obvious beauty, it represents a time of community and friendship. I normally like to go out harvesting alone and wander in silence amongst the plants and the trees but in autumn there is something so special about gathering together with a friend and filling your baskets with the glorious bounty of the land. Now is the final celebration of the abundance and generosity of Mother Nature before we start to withdraw against the harsh onslaught of the winter months and what better way to celebrate than with each other.

I have been blessed to go out berry harvesting with two lovely friends and wonderful herbalists, Therri and Mindy this month and have spend a great afternoon with my lovely husband collecting Hawthorn berries and sloes.

Mindy amongst the Hawthorn

When up in my favourite elder picking spot we noticed both flower and fruit on the same tree. This is something I have never seen before, have you? Excuse the poor quality photo, the light wasn’t great that day.

Flower and berries on the wise Elder Mother.

The result of these outings was lovely fresh tinctures, dried berries and lots of delicious syrups!

The first elderberry harvest.

My first syrup making session was with elderberry, unbeatable for tastiness and immune supporting goodness for the colder months. I have already posted my method for elderberry syrup making here, so I won’t repeat myself but this year I added a vanilla bean to the ginger, cardamom, clove and orange peel and it turned out really well, so tasty I keep sneaking to the fridge for an extra spoonful.

Next up was the hawthorn berry syrup. The Hawthorns round here have been so fat and large this year and the trees literally dripping in them. I wonder if that means we are in for another hard winter.

I made a simple hawthorn and ginger syrup by simmering them together in a pan with enough water to cover, straining the liquid and adding an equal amount of raw honey once the liquid had cooled sufficiently. I use a fair amount of ginger because I love the resulting taste of the two combined but you can adjust according to preference.

You can tell when it is almost ready because the berries start to loose their colour. I simmered mine on a low heat for about half an hour.

Berries starting to loose their colour.

At the time of straining they have gone a yellowy colour.

It’s basically the same technique as the elderberry syrup but it’s good to store your hawthorn syrup in jars rather than bottles because the berries are high in pectin which means it can set like a jelly and you’ll need to be able to spoon it out. The more of the thicker, mushy liquid you strain into the end product the more likely it will set. There is lots of goodness in this bit too however, so I say go for it. Do be warned though as I can’t imagine many things more dissapointing than being unable to get at all my delicious syrup because it had set in the bottle.

Look how firm the resulting syrup/ jelly is here on our morning porridge.

Finally, the pièce de résistance was the five berry syrup I made which included elderberries, blackberries, hawthorn berries, rose hips and sloes. I used the same technique again but this time added no spices or other flavourings and just let the natural flavour of the berries shine through. It’s so yummy I am wishing I had made litres of it!

Simmering berries.

Give them a good mash to get all the goodness out.

This syrup feels so vital and nourishing and is packed with antioxidants and other immune supportive constituents.

Another advantage is that it gives you a wonderful opportunity to polish up your Lady Macbeth impression.

“Out, damn’d spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
’tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and
afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
pow’r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?”

Watch out amateur dramatics… here I come.

I hope your autumn has also been full of harvests and community or anything else that nourishes your soul.

This weekend past I was lucky enough to attend the Springfield Sanctuary Herb Festival hosted by Sarah Head who writes the wonderful blog Tales of  A Kitchen Herbwife.

I am a great admirer of Sarah’s approach to herbal medicine which is practical, down to earth, community minded and well informed and the festival reflected these qualities perfectly. When we arrived we were met by Sarah and her father carrying a basketful of pears from their trees and the day’s proceedings kicked off in true herbwife fashion, with foraging, herb gathering and the digging of roots.

Sarah at The Sanctuary

The Calendula Flower Harvest

The Sanctuary itself is nestled amongst the stunning scenery of the Cotswolds and is an utterly magical place.

As the festival is small in numbers it gives you the chance to meet and share knowledge with many of the people there and a lovely community feel suffuses the event. Everyone I met was enthusiastic, interesting and friendly.

Fellow blogger Ali English was there giving a very interesting talk on British tonic herbs and selling her wares at the mini herb market. I couldn’t resist her beautiful natural scarfs, the one dyed with oak bark being an especially rich golden hue, perfect for these early autumn days.

Teas, scarfs, candles and handmade jewellery by Ali English

I gave a talk on using herbs externally which was lots of fun.

There was herbal dyeing down in the gardens and a lovely talk and demonstration by Charlie Farrow on making a Rowan Cross and its symbolism in folklore. One of Sarah’s apprentices, Ian, led a lovely wild food walk and spoke movingly of his passion for re-wilding.

Off on a wild food walk.

Last but not least, the non-herbal elements were also fantastic! Sarah’s husband and his partner stunned and awed us with their kite demonstrations and classical singer Heather Caddick wowed us with her sublime voice during a lunchtime recital.

Kite displays by Sky Symphony

All in all it was a wonderful event that contained so many of the elements I think are vital to working with herbs; passion and enthusiasm, a sense of community, practical skills and the joyful sharing of knowledge and talents. I’ll be back next year for sure.

Outrageously Orange

“In my garden there are now purple roses, red roses, even yellow roses… But not orange. I draw the line at orange.”

Katherine Swift – The Morville Hours

Since writing my last post on Calendula a few days ago, I’ve been noticing even more than usual how cheerily beautiful these flowers are. In fact, every time I walk through the garden I stop to appreciate their intensity of colour, which like the sun, rather than detracting from the other softer-hued blooms, seems only to enhance their radiance. However it has come to my attention of late that many gardeners consider orange flowers some thing of a faux pas. Perhaps seen as garish and lacking in modesty amongst the gentle pinks, blues and whites of many popular garden flowers, several writers I have been reading recently seem to have taken against the use of orange in the garden. Even the equally exuberant yellow and red flowers get a better press than the orange.

Well call me tasteless, lacking in class or otherwise aesthetically impaired if you will but I adore orange flowers. Some of my favourite bits of the garden are populated with orange.

Like these nasturtiums and Californian poppies.

I also love these little crocosmia, the only flower that was already in the garden when we moved in.

Those who read this blog regularly will have heard me rave about my lovely little rose ‘Warm Welcome’ and I’m getting much pleasure from the softer apricot tones of ‘Lady Emma Hamilton’ too.

I think the vibrant hued oranges blend beautifully with softer shades like this creamy peach rose with the nasturtiums.

I love planting oranges alongside mauve or blue flowers, like the crocosmia with this blue geranium. I think I get this from my Dad who always grew mountains of love-in-a-mist with Californian poppies.

And to make matters worse, I even like oranges and pinks together!

When it comes to matters of taste, it seems there’s no hope for me at all.

Calendula – aka Superherb

Calendula officinalis, also known as pot marigold (different from the African marigold or Tagetes) is one of those herbs that is constantly surprising. The more you use it, the more you love it. I used to be guilty of that most heinous of crimes, categorising it as a herb for external use only, but now I use it for a wide variety of ailments, and find it to be mostly exceptional at whatever it turns its hand to. Calendula is best known for treating external complaints but it’s a shame to relegate it to such narrow confines when it has a whole host of benefits to offer us.

Having said all that, as an external remedy it’s one of the best. Being vulnerary (wound healing), haemostatic (stops bleeding), anti-inflammatory (calms redness and inflammation), bacteriostatic (stops bacteria multiplying), anti-fungal (retards fungal infection), rich in antioxidants (healing, anti-aging), astringent (tones and tightens) and demulcent (soothes and protects) its easy to see why it has the reputation is does for treating all kinds of skin ailments, minor wounds, ulcers and the like. David Hoffman says, “The value of this exceptional herb cannot be exaggerated when it comes to treating skin problems like wounds, bruises or burns. Its properties make it a healing plant that reduces soreness and inflammation whilst also acting as an anti-microbial, which makes it a primary first aid herb for any problem.”

Calendula welcomes visitors along my garden path.

I use Calendula in all preparations for sensitive, red and dry skin as its thick resinous consistency not only heals but also protects the skin. It’s often seen in baby care products to gently guard against and heal nappy rash. Its astringency makes it wonderful for wounds and slow healing ailments like ulcers as well as varicose veins for which it is a primary herbal treatment, both internally and externally.

It’s often prepared as an oil by infusing the flowers in a base oil like sunflower or sweet almond, preferably twice in the same oil. You can read about how to make an infused oil here which can then be made into a salve or cream such as this one here. I also like to use calendula flowers in a wash, compress or poultice, especially for weeping sores where using a salve may keep the area too moist and thus encourage infection, even when using anti-microbial herbs.

Infusing Calendula oil on a bright windowsill

If we think about how Calendula works externally however, we can see that it might well have some powerful actions inside the body too, especially on the mucus membranes which are a bit like the skin inside our bodies’ passageways. Being anti-inflammatory, astringent and demulcent makes it ideal for many gut problems such as ulcers and inflammations where it can help to soothe, heal and protect the stomach and intestines. Add to this the fact that it is anti-fungal and bacteriostatic and you have a great remedy for treating gut dysbiosis and leaky gut type issues where it can simultaneously help balance intestinal flora and heal the gut wall.  And it doesn’t stop there. Problems such as these are thought to exacerbate immune function as larger particles of food waste escape into the lymphatics and cause heightened immune response. How incredibly convenient then that Calendula is also a powerful lymphatic and immune supporting herb. Do you ever get the impression nature knows what she’s doing?

Calendula is one of my favourite herbs for treating the lymphatic system. If there are swollen glands, a feeling of low grade infection that never really manifests into anything and tiredness and fatigue, it is a great remedy to choose. I use it more as a support for chronic issues, where as I might use echinacea or other herbs for acute issues. Maria Treben used it as both a preventative and healing agent in cancer treatment and it was traditionally considered a gentle but powerful blood cleanser.

It also contains some bitter principles which make it useful for gallbladder and liver support and it has been used traditionally for gallbladder inflammations, jaundice and chronic hepatitis. The liver and gallbladder are generally considered to reflect the emotions of anger, irritability and frustration and I always think a herb as cheerful as calendula can’t help but dispel our wrath!

Bartram calls it  “one of the most versatile and important herbal medicines” and recommends it is taken after all surgical operations. This makes a lot of sense when we consider it is healing, immune supportive and gently cleansing.

Though I use Calendula as a tincture, I like it best for internal treatment when taken as a tea. If I feel a bit under the weather I like it with self heal, lime blossom and monarda and if I feel like something cheering to dispel frustrations, it’s lovely with rose and chamomile. Below it’s combined with orange peel and monarda to make a tasty and warming ‘sunshine tea’ that will aid digestion, support the immune system and promote feelings of wellbeing.

Sunshine tea.

A Calendula tea or infusion also makes a great treatment for red, tired eyes due to its soothing and astringent properties as well as its anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties. Calendula contains carotenoids like carrots, though I can’t promise it will help you see in the dark!

Try Calendula infusions as footbaths for treating athletes foot or in a sitz bath for thrush or cystitis (though of course lifestyle adjustments will also be needed in any condition like this). Calendula sitz baths are also often recommended for women after giving birth to help heal the tissues and prevent infections.

This incredible herb has also been used to treat menstrual irregularities and other women’s health issues, though I have little experience of using it this way. Maurice Messegue says, “I would suggest taking a cure of marigold a week before the period is due, and that will ensure it will come and go without any difficulty.” Elizabeth Brooke also says, “Marigold is one of the remedies I use for any problems with the cervix.”

Finally, Calendula is gentle and nourishing enough to add to our foods as well as our medicine and the petals look beautiful sprinkled on salads, soups and stews.

Calendula petals adorn a summer salad.

Gather Calendula in the morning sun and dry somewhere warm and airy, away from bright lights. I have always found home dried Calendula to be much more vibrantly orange than anything I have bought, even from well respected suppliers.

Tradition says you should gather Calendula when the sun is in Leo or Virgo (August and most of September) but practically it can be collected any time it’s in flower, which luckily for us, is nearly all the summer long.

Herb of the Sun

The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white.
Neither need you do anything but be yourself.
Lao-Tse

One of the many things we Zen Kitties have mastered is the simplest act of being ourselves. Whilst humans spend a vast amount of time and energy creating a persona that they call ‘themselves’ and continually affirming it, making it better, berating its faults or comparing it to the personas of others, we put our efforts into being exactly as we are. Which in fact, amounts to very little effort at all.

If you happen to have some time on your hands today I suggest you stop using it to create a character that doesn’t really exist anyway and spend it embracing yourself as the open awareness you really are. Then, however you appear, you will be a reflection of truth.

Life will be infinitely more interesting as a result.

It’s been a while since I posted about the beautiful Hawthorns that I have been observing as part of the Tree of the Year project. They sit atop the Downs, relentlessly battered by wind and rain, and as a result they differ from many of the other Hawthorns in this area. With everything being early this year, most of the trees already had bright red berries at the beginning of August, not quite ready for harvest, but not far off. On these trees however, the berries were still small and green, reflecting how the harshness of their environment affects their development.

Nearly a month on they are reddening up nicely and the trees from a distance have that exquisite blush which tells you autumn is around the corner.

There is no doubt that the constant high winds we have had all summer have taken their toll. The trees look less healthy than this time last year with many of the leaves browning and some branches swept almost bare. Like people whose lives have been filled with hardship, they are weathered and worn.

It’s interesting to observe how bare of berries the side of the trees that faces the wind is compared to the relatively more sheltered branches.

I feel these trees teach me a lot about resilience, tenacity and strength and about adaptability in the face of hardship. They speak of the beauty of form and motion and of holding fast to this living edge of surrender. Perhaps most importantly they show that, in spite of difficulties, it is still possible to give generously.

Elsewhere on the Downs other Hawthorns tell their stories, each as unique as snowflakes.

I loved this one, entangled with the wild rose like lovers.

And everywhere the berries are fat and red and perfect. I’ll be out next week to get the first harvest in. Who wants pills when your medicine can look like this?

The Downs themselves are carpeted with wild flowers at present.

The yellows and whites of bedstraw, yarrow, burnet saxifrage and cat’s-ears mix with the mauves and purples of two of my favourite wild flowers;

Small Scabious

and Round-headed Rampion.

Whilst lone stalks of agrimony wave in the breeze.

Poultices and compresses are very useful ways to utilise herbs for ailments both external and internal. They are not much used in today’s herbal medicine, primarily because they are a little more time consuming and potentially messy than bottles of tincture, teas or capsules and unfortunately, most of us in today’s world are always in a rush.

Still, they can be powerful aids to healing and are well worth having a play with for conditions as diverse as skin rashes, constipation, wounds, sprains, IBS and respiratory problems.

Compresses and poultices are both external applications that involve placing a herbal preparation over the affected part of the body to enable the healing constituents of the herb to absorb into the tissue. The difference between them is only that poultices use whole plant material, either fresh or dried, and compresses use a liquid preparation of the herb, such as a tea. I prefer to use compresses for aches and pains, digestive issues and headaches and poultices for skin irritations, minor wounds and burns. I find both to be helpful for respiratory problems.

Compresses:

Compresses involve soaking a cloth or flannel in a liquid herbal preparation such as a tea, diluted tincture or an oil, wringing it out well, then placing over the body. They are usually applied warm but can also be used cold in cases of swelling, inflammation etc. For ease they can be wrapped in cling film to keep in place and avoid staining clothes, sofas, beds etc. In cases where a deeply warming action is needed, a towel and a hot water bottle can then be placed on top. They would usually be left in place for about 10 minutes and sometimes repeated with fresh liquid once or several times.

Compresses are particularly useful where heat or cold are appropriate as it is easy to warm up or cool down liquids to a suitable temperature. Here are some ideas for using compresses at home.

  • A compress of strong lavender tea can be useful at the onset of a headache. You can apply it warm to the base of the neck if muscular tension is a contributing factor or chilled across the forehead if the headache feels hot and throbbing.
  • A compress of hot thyme tea is useful laid over the lung area for coughs, colds and other respiratory problems where there is phlegm and congestion.
  • A chamomile tea compress on the stomach may soothe nervous digestion. If the digestion is sluggish, nervous or constricted it is particularly nice to apply alternating compresses of hot and cold chamomile tea across the abdomen to increase circulation and stimulate vital force. Make the tea and keep half in a flask so it stays hot, then chill the other half in the fridge. When it has chilled completely soak a flannel in the hot tea (it should be as warm is as is completely comfortable, be careful not to apply anything too hot to the skin) and apply to the abdomen for 1 minute, then soak another cloth in the cold liquid, remove the hot and apply the cold for another minute. Alternate between hot and cold 5 times each, beginning with hot and ending on cold.
  • Alternating hot and cold compresses are also particularly useful for sprains to speed healing and repair. Herbs such as elder leaf, ginger, comfrey or horsetail could be of use here.
  • Warm compresses of ginger tea can be useful to strengthen kidney function if laid over the lower back. Don’t do this if you are suffering from a kidney infection, though it can help to prevent them if used at other times.
  • Castor oil packs. Many people have heard of castor oil packs for easing congestion and I find them very useful in practice if people have the time and inclination to do them. They are useful for easing period pains, liver stagnation and constipation when applied over the abdominal region. To do a castor oil pack you need to warm about two tablespoons of castor oil very gently in a pan then pour onto a clean, slightly damp, warm flannel. Check carefully not to overheat it as you most definitely don’t want to be applying too hot oil directly on to your skin. It should be nice and warm but quite comfortable on the skin. Apply the flannel (oil side against the skin) over the abdominal area either centrally or slightly to the right over the liver area. Wrap with cling film and cover with a towel and hot water bottle. Lie down and relax for at least an hour before removing and washing off the oil.
  • Rose water and apple cider vinegar, or rose infused cider vinegar diluted in water, can be used as a compress for sunburn. Aloe vera juice is also lovely applied cool on a soft cloth.
  • In the absence of fresh plant material a compress can be used in place of a poultice such as a cool calendula tea for rashes or some plantain or yarrow tincture for minor wounds.
A good rule with compresses and poultices is that if it feels uncomfortable then remove it immediately. Anything that is too hot or causing irritation or itching is best removed and allowed to cool or discarded.
You can also make compresses with a few drops of essential oil dispersed in warm or cold water in place of teas or tinctures.

Poultices:

Poultices use whole herbs, usually mashed up into a paste and applied onto the problem area. The simplest form of poultice is the spit poultice, made my chewing up a bit of herb and applying to the skin. Plantain can be applied this way to stings and minor wounds and yarrow is great for staunching bleeding if you cut yourself whilst out walking and need a spot of first aid. A plantain poultice is also useful for drawing out splinters and boils. You can also mash the herbs with a little water and honey in a pestle and mortar or blend then down and apply directly to the site. You can also grate the plant material, as with ginger or potato which was used traditionally as a poultice for boils. If using spicy herbs such as ginger and mustard, you need to put several layers of fine muslin cloth between them and your skin to prevent irritation. Maurice Messegue, the French herbalist who was famous for his many cures, often used only external preparations such as foot and hand baths and poultices. He writes, “the herbs can be placed in a bag of finely woven cloth before being placed on the area to be treated. Which one of these methods is chosen depends on how strong the active elements in the plant are. If it is a gently acting herb, such as cabbage, there need be no hesitation in letting it come in contact with the skin. But if it is irritant or acid, with a tendency to cause redness, then it needs a brake on its action and the skin should be protected by a cloth. This precaution must always be taken with the true revulsives such as mustard.”

If I am at home I often use dried herbs in powder form to make a poultice as this is straightforward, not too messy and can be done all year round even if there is no fresh plant material available. I mix my herbs with an equal part slippery elm powder which is healing, demulcent and drawing in its own right, then add a little warm water and honey (preferably herbal infused honey if I have some to hand) and mix into a thick paste. I then spread it over the area in question and bandage in place.

Here are some useful poultices that are easy to prepare at home:

  • Cabbage. The cabbage poultice must be one of the most traditional of kitchen remedies around. Used for inflammations and swellings, particularly mastitis, it is very simple to prepare. All you do is iron a few cabbage leaves to warm them up and break them down a bit then wrap them over the offending area and secure in place. Many women with mastitis just wear the leaves inside their bras.
  • Mustard. Another traditional poultice for respiratory problems, make sure the skin does not come into direct contact with the mustard, see above. The onion poultice is another variation often used for respiratory ailments though in truth, I tend to stick to thyme compresses for such issues.
  • Calendula and yarrow. Great as a spit poultice or made into a paste from powdered herbs to treat minor wounds and skin rashes.
  • Comfrey. Well known for its usefulness in speeding the healing of sprains, strains and broken bones, you can mash up the herb and apply directly on the site or, if it is in plaster, just apply to the area above and below the cast.
  • Clay. An effective drawing poultice for splinters and infections, clay packs are popular amongst naturopaths and horse owners!
What are your favourite compresses and poultices?