Just make, and keep, one promise to yourself everyday. One little promise, one little moment of showing up for yourself. 

This was the post I saw from @the.holistic.psychologist, just when I was feeling overwhelmed and undeserving and defeated. She’d said it before, but that day I needed it. OK, I thought, I will. 

Now I encourage (Urge! Demand!) you do the same. We ALL need to remind ourselves that we’re there for ourselves; it builds such resilience and resolve!

In keeping with my spirit, I made 2 promises. In keeping with Dr. LaPera’s advice, I made them tiny. 

1. Journal every day, even if only for a minute
2. Plan tomorrow’s To Do list each evening

I’ve also been having trouble falling asleep, so the last few nights I’ve taken an herbal sleep tablet by Garden of Life (a sample from Expo East!) with a powdered Magnesium and Sleep drink (love this stuff), and doing a Deepak Chopra meditation after lights-out.

It’s amazing what a few nights of good sleep, and a few days of clear and ordered tasks, can accomplish. 

This morning’s journaling- from last night’s meditation prompts- showed me that lately I’ve been most in my “flow” when I’m writing about my passions, like developing the DIY program, or writing blog posts. Yet I don’t write creatively that often, putting it off in favor of other “more important” tasks. 

Since I don’t have any morning appointments today, I decided to have a sauna (we have a Relax FIR sauna tent in the bedroom, you can try one at Holly Hill, my local health food store), a quick stretch and shower, and sit down to write a bit. No guilt, no judgement, I just opened a few docs I had been working on recently but had put aside. I'm really looking forward to this!

Before I turn back to them, I really want to know: What’s ONE promise you can make to yourself every day? Comment below!

Excess Earth can be cloying, clinging, or sickly sweet, so if you recognize this in your life- again, literally or figuratively- you might benefit from some cleaning up and throwing away. This is a great time of year to donate unworn Summer clothes and uninspiring Winter clothes, to clear out dying landscape and garden plants, and to empty your fridge for a good cleaning now that it’s not too hot to leave its contents out for a few minutes. Mental or food-related indigestion can be prevalent now too- spending some time simply, in gently fasting or meditation or journaling, for example, gives you space and perspective to move forward clearly again. 

Sleep is always important and usually neglected, and we tend to get even less in summer because of the longer days and all the things we try to do in the nice weather. As the days shorten, try going to bed earlier so you can get more rest- who doesn’t need this?! One trick I’ve found is to prepare for bed throughout the evening, so when I’m finally ready I don’t then stay up to brush my teeth, get in my PJ’s, pack my lunch for tomorrow, find my sleep mask, whatever. I can just get in bed, which saves me an hour or more some nights. I heard one teacher say that the time spent asleep before midnight is more important than the total hours you got, and my experience agrees with that. 

In her book Wood Becomes Water: Chinese Medicine in Everyday Life, Gail Reichstein explains that, “The flavor that corresponds to Earth is sweetness… Grains, in general, are considered sweet foods and are therefore highly tonifying, forming the backbone of Taoist cuisine and of most traditional diets. Rice, corn, wheat, barley, rye, amarant, and quinoa are all staple ingredients, as are potatoes and sweet potatoes.” She also lists meats and plant proteins, tree fruits like apples, cherries, and apricots, root vegetables, mushrooms, and nuts as examples of seasonal-appropriate foods. Sweet foods are nourishing and dense, and they cook well- especially when roasted or made into soups. Refined sweeteners aren’t what we’re talking about here!

As you start incorporating more nutrient dense, cooked foods into your early Autumn menus, you’ll be nourishing your immune system and helping to recover from the dryness that Summer can bring. Think of it like a dry potted plant- the roots contract so any water just runs down the sides and out the bottom. You need to loosen up the soil, your GI tract, before you can accept the water, and nutritious, well cooked food with healthy fats does this for you. 
​
What are some of your transition traditions that you find yourself doing at this time each year? Food wise, I start eating squashes, making soups, and braising vegetables like cabbage or fennel+red beets with vinegar and chicken stock. I also try on my winter sweaters to make sure I still want them before putting away my summer tank tops, and pull out the fuzzy couch blanket for cool nights. ​

Ok. You sat. You pondered. What did the plant say?
 
Here, I'll go first.

Do you think this challenge is a ridiculous waste of time? Or did you read it and think, Oh that seems a lovely notion!, and go on with your day? I was like both of you, once.

The first time I did this exercise, in my first year of Herbal studies, I went into my teacher’s garden and sat by this shrubby thing. It wasn't a tree, exactly- there was no trunk, just a collection of bendy stems maybe 8 feet tall. There had been flowers earlier, and berries too, but now it was just leaves and coolly green. I got comfortable on the lawn in front of it.

And I waited.
For anything.
I looked at its bark, the leaves, the ground it grew in.
I breathed, closed my eyes, opened them, lay down, sat straighter.

It felt absurd. I wasn’t having visions, or hearing voices. I was bored, and all I wanted to do was climb the silly thing. This flexible collection of overgrown branches looked so enticing I just wanted to crawl inside it and wrap myself around the stems. Which was of course unreasonable, it could never support me, so I trooped back inside with my classmates, annoyed.

And found out this shrub is Elderberry, literally the Elder of the garden, watching over everything. It has Grandmother energy, and I had wanted to give it a hug SO BAD that I almost cried. My own Grandmother had died tragically in a car accident only a few years before, my life was upside-down, and I had been feeling so alone and without the support that she would have given, in the form of a Dutch Apple cake and just saying nice things to me.

So when I challenge you to go sit with a plant, and you do it, don't "judge" or "assess" or "define" what happens. Because who knows what is happening?
 
This is how you begin forming connections, by not being in charge of the connecting. Let go, and see who or what introduces themselves, if you’re quiet enough to hear them.

Do you have plant connections? A favorite tree, or a culinary herb that always makes you smile, or a spring flower that reminds you of your childhood cat? Did you ever have connection, but have since lost it?
 
I had a rich inner-life as a child. No imaginary friends, but I spent long days playing in the woods, creek, fields, and grass on the 80 acres I grew up with. We didn’t have close neighbors, but there was plenty of “scope for imagination” on that land.
 
There was the stand of hemlock trees that became a whole pretend house, and the one spot where you could cross the creek on a fallen tree, and the white pine that I suddenly couldn’t climb anymore when I grew faster than it did.

I knew where the lawn changed to moss, back by tree line where the old swing set was, and where the mysterious hole was below the tiger lilies, behind the house.

I knew where the spring surfaced, and where it collected into a magical pool that was covered by watercress each spring.

And I always knew exactly where I was, and how to get back home.
 
After high school I went away to college and jobs and apartments and while I sometimes reflected on that time I spent “before”, it was background to my new reality of responsibilities and adulting. Until I went to an herbal conference back in some hills that echoed the hills I used to know. At the end of the day, driving back in the sunset, the landscape hit me so hard that I wept right there behind the steering wheel.
 
I suddenly felt the enormous reality that where I now lived wasn’t “home”, and that I desperately missed those hills I used to call home. But my life isn’t there anymore, and I needed to find ways to start recognizing my new home in that same deep way. I had to rediscover my ability to make friends with trees and rocks, and reconnect to my present world.

(And in this process of rediscovery and reconnection, I remembered my Herbalism. At its heart, my teaching of both Pilates and Herbal Medicine is driven by my passion to help you recognize and identify these small voices without words, that guide you to connect both inside and out.)
 
There are lots of ways to deepen your connection to plants, to learn to recognize them outside and to learn what they do inside you. There are classes, walks, talks, books, videos, apps, all sorts of ways to get more information.

But I challenge you to do this one thing:

• go outside
• find a plant you don't know- anything from a flower to a tree. Look around to see what calls to you, what catches your eye
• sit down by it
• look at it for a while, at least 15 minutes
• come back in and grab some paper, and jot down what you thought of while you were sitting there

Memories? Observations? Random, unconnected, meaningless thoughts? (Of course they're not! But we'll get to that.)

Really, get going. I'll wait.

Burdock root (Arctium lappa) is also known by the Japanese name Gobo, and that's usually how I get mine- 3 or 4 roots about the thickness of medium carrots that are at least 3 feet long, shrink wrapped together at the local Asian market as Gobo. (It's also sold dried, from Mountain Rose and Herbiary.) They are beige, darker than parsnips, with slightly darker cores. 

Usually I either cut them into rounds and simmer them in a stock pot of water for 24 hours or so, or I'll make ribbons with a potato peeler and stir fry them. Either way, I've found they oxidize and turn brown quickly once they're peeled, but this doesn't affect anything. 

The taste of Burdock was unexpected the first time I had it. Burdock is generally considered "a Liver herb", in that it helps your liver (a vague and squiffy description!) Most of the time "liver herbs" are bitters, a topic I discussed here. But not Burdock. 

Burdock is sweet, in the herbal tradition that refers not to sugary, syrupy, cloying sweetness, but to nourishing, grounding, and satisfying. Homemade chicken soup, freshly cooked rice, and nuts are other savory foods that fit this description, in my mind. 

This makes me think about the "Liver" attributes, and about its infamous burrs. 

If you've ever walked the forest's edge, you've probably met Burdock. It's a biennial, which means it grows low and leafy the first year, then huge and sprawling to send out seeds the second year. First year plants are the ones harvested for the roots, which grow large to help it survive winter. I've heard of people digging Burdock roots 10-14 feet long, and the accompanying pits they have to fill back in after! First year Burdock leaves are often quite huge too, and I've seen them tied on heads as makeshift hats- it's a great look. 

Second year plants grow UP. Last summer I saw one several feet taller than me (pics below don't really do it justice, I was holding my camera up high). This is when we get burrs. Little round globes of hooks that inspired Velcro, tangle everrrrrything that comes near, and apparently contain seeds that are also medicinal- though whoever puts themselves through the trouble of harvesting them might be a little, um, devoted. 

The fierce presentation of Burdock- massive leaves, aggressive burrs, long taproots- really belies its taste and energy. It puts me in mind of Mrs. Rachel Lynde. 

Have you read Anne of Green Gables? (If not, you are missing out!) Mrs. Rachel Lynde is big, outspoken, in everyone's business, and the first one to deliver a handmade blanket to a new baby or a meal to a sick family. 

The Liver has so many jobs and responsibilities, and sometimes its filtering duties get neglected. This leads to rashes, breakouts, and lots of other skin and joint issues as toxins and debris build up in the blood and are pushed out through the skin- think of Lucy in the chocolate factory, or water spilling over a levy. 

Rather than truly stimulating the Liver like other traditional bitter herbs, I think Burdock is in the blood doing the dishes and the laundry, so to speak. I feel like truly bitter herbs give the Liver a kick in the pants, which can be very helpful, whereas Burdock quietly comes over and mows your lawn when you've just got too much else on your plate. 

It's an excellent gentle tonic, a concept Western medicine is missing but which means to help the body mend, rebuild, and return to healthy normal functioning. Very often our Western baseline test is "Can I function?" Long term help from Burdock would help change that question to, "Am I at the top of my game?" which many people haven't felt in so long I wonder if they'd recognize it. 

Here's what it looks like: 
You + coffee = wired (from caffeine) + poop (from bitter)
This is what our Western expectations are. Fast, concrete results and damn the caffeine addiction!

You + Burdock= You
No noticeable change today, or tomorrow. But months from now someone will comment on your clear skin, your glowing vitality, and you'll think- It must be all the Burdock! You won't have noticed the gradual improvement in your skin, or stress management, or ability to digest rich foods or recover from excess sugar or alcohol. It's just gotten better. 

1. Get Moving
I know you don't feel like it. But the ONLY way to get past this is to encourage your lymph system to get immune cells in, and trash out. 
-Take a hot showers
-Exfoliate
-Use a netti pot
-dry yourself briskly!
-snuggle into warm clothes

2. Take Stock and Make Stock
Start making hot water, on the stove or in a crock pot, and a tea kettle. I am forever freezing chicken bones and this is the time to use them. Dig around in your fridge and freezer to see what you might add to that hot water. If you were thinking ahead, you may have some veggie ends like carrot tips and celery butts and parsley stems frozen against a future soup, in which case toss it all the pot with the bones. Otherwise, just the bones will do fine, with some salt and a wee splash of vinegar. And a few seaweed leaves, if you have them. Then just put the pot on low with a lid and forget about it until tomorrow. 

3. DRINK
Like #1 up there, keeping your lymph moving and thin is super extra important now, so we need to stay hydrated and warm. With that hot tea kettle water from #2, make yourself some tea- I keep it easy with instant dandelion or ginger tea, or one of these mushroom lattes that help your immune function and are DELICIOUS. Also, dig out that container of miso you forgot about in the back of your fridge (I'll share other ways to enjoy miso some other time) and drop a spoonful in a second mug. Add a sprinkle of kelp and poof- you have soup. Drink up. 

4. Feed a cold, starve a fever
Here's my take on this saying, really one of the only thowbacks our culture has left of a traditional medicine system. Colds are low-grade attacks on our bodies, and we pull out all the stops to fight it- mucus to trap and drain, fatigue to conserve energy, aches as destroyed cells pile up in our lymph glands. An army fights on its stomach, so if yours is calling for fuel, go for it. 

Keep in mind, you are working HARD to fight this off, and it takes energy to digest food into that fuel. Choose simple, nutrient-dense, easy to digest options, which are primarily soft, long cooked, and uncomplicated foods. Soups, stews, roasted vegetables, eggs, applesauce, porridges- you know, the really healthy stuff. Dairy, sugar, large quantities of grains, raw foods will all use too many resources or actually feed the bacteria causing the cold. Help your body out. 

If you reach fever stage, I believe your body is throwing all available energy at raising your temperature to basically cook your illness right out of you. Support that with hydration, warm clothes, lots of simple resting, and fasting as you feel you need it. Now's the time to really check in and see what you're up for and in need of. It'll take your stock from #2 at least 24 hours to simmer into a mineral-rich broth that will feed your depleted immune system, so nap your way till then.

5. R.E.S.T.
Don't be surprised if you sleep for 12 hours or more. Don't be surprised when I suggest you go to bed before it's dark out. Give yourself the chance to recover. Just do it, please!

6. Recovery wasn't done in a day
Our culture does NOT value convalescence. But I do! And I get it, it's hard to all for recovery when we're so pressed with obligations and responsibilities from all sides. But if you keep your energy output to 70% MAX for at least 2 days after you start feeling better, you'll actually be able to recover to at least your pre-cold energy levels in record time. 

A woman was recently telling me about a strange rash she developed on her upper back. After a few rounds of doctor visits, she was finally told that it was coming from a virus that gave her an upper respiratory issue 3 months prior to the rash! Enough people had had the hacking cough AND didn't actually recover from it, leading to identical rashes on the outside of their lungs months later, that the local physicians were recognizing the symptoms- and recommending steroids. I recommend recovering fully in the first place. 

Drink your broth, make it into vegetable soup, eat your simple foods, allow for more time to do routine things, take naps, and when your symptoms start to recede start the clock- you still need at least 2 days of this easier pace to be well again.  

Have you ever had an out-of-body moment, when you don't recognize anything but suddenly realize that this is somehow your life? It feels like you're seeing the world like this for the first time, through new eyes, like you just woke up in this body with this life that you didn't have a moment ago.

​This has happened when I'm teaching a Pilates class, and I'm simultaneously confident in my instruction while also amazed at myself for knowing what to do next. It's also happened when I moved house often- 5 times in 5 years at one point. I'd walk into a room and think, "This is my stuff, but what's it doing here?" 

It also happened one morning recently, when I was suddenly struck by the quality of the light and the movement of the breeze in stiff bare trees and I was so sure, just for a minute, that it was a late Autumn evening and not 7am in mid-February. For just that minute, I was both here and there.

I think these experiences are actually practicable. The reality we each experience is created through our own personal sets of life-lenses. But I think we can practice seeing our own reality without involving our life's worth of expectation and experience and habits. Like in physical exercise, the benefits of a practice like this expand past the goal- beyond examining our own lives more objectively, this allows us to listen and learn in ways that might be logically unfathomable but just need an open mind to help you grow a little. 

​Somewhere along my herbal journey, I began to absorb the idea that plants weren't invented for our illnesses, that self-care and healing is labor and discipline and personal responsibility. It was a very gradual paradigm shift, and re-reading my early notes from the beginning of my training reveal that it certainly didn't start right away. 

Generally, we don't recognize that our "simple" health-related questions are based in an expectation of "take a pill for it," that assumes some outside force (person, drug, or plant) can/will/should do the work for us. We're actually told that we must submit to doctors and medications even if we feel worse in their "care."

I suggest, instead, that this is really your responsibility, and that all the "experts" are really just part of your team of advisers and require constant questioning. It's actually not fair to expect someone or something to fix you, because how could they ever know what you're experiencing as well as you do? How could they ever influence your choices and decisions and reactions more than you can?

By now, questions about "what herbs are for [health condition]" and "how much [standardized component] is in there/do I need/works best" no longer get straight answers from me. Should I take Valerian for sleep? becomes a conversation about: 

1. Valerian works by warming you up
2. So you have to know something about yourself and how you work
3. And your temperatures can change
4. So you have to work with Valerian and yourself to figure out if it'll help you
5. (And sleep is not a light switch, it's a state of being, you can practice being better at it, there's other interventions too...)

You see how this gets can-of-worms complex?

I want you to learn what you have influence over, what you don't, and where you stand in relation to the rest of everything. You have both power over and responsibility for your internal state, your reality. It's a huge shift to come to terms with this. Practicing this has made me a more engaged and stronger human, and has taught me things I didn't know I didn't know. 

​This is my challenge to you: practice being responsible for, or in charge of, your own reality. Practice stepping outside of it and seeing what things look like from there. Practice experiencing yourself, instead of accepting what outside messages say you think.

Practice seeing how you feel and react to your food, your medications, your herbs, your exercise, and all the other inputs in your life. Practice being part of the bigger picture, working with the weather, being part of the traffic, rather than outside them as if they are happening to you personally. 

Practice to see what you find, instead of searching for answers you think you want.