by Susun S. Weed
I love autumn, don't you? The days shorten and fall colors thrill my senses. Perennial roots get busy storing nourishment that will last them through the winter. And the meadows bloom with purple asters and riotous goldenrod flowers.
Goldenrod (the Solidago genus, Asteracea family) is one of my favorite plants, and hopefully, soon it will be one of your favorites too.
Before you complain that goldenrod is a pest and you're allergic to it, let me set the record straight: You aren't. No one is, no one can be, allergic to goldenrod pollen. Why? It has virtually none. What little pollen it makes is sticky, all the better to stick onto insects who pollinate the goldenrod. Only wind-pollinated plants - like ragweed (Ambrosia artemisifolia), which blooms at the same time as goldenrod, and has an especially irritating pollen - make enough pollen, and spread it widely enough, to cause allergic reactions.
Set aside your mistaken bad thoughts about lovely goldenrod, and, if you can, visit a patch. Goldenrod is a wide-spread wild plant in North America (found from Florida to New Hampshire and west into Texas), Europe, and Asia. Goldenrod is also treasured as a garden plant from New Zealand to Germany, and has become a highly-successful weed in Japan. So, no matter where you live as you read this article, it is likely that you can find a patch of goldenrod.
One of my first, and still one of my favorite, reasons for learning about plants was to become more in tune with my environment: the weather, the flows of water, the places of special energy, Mother Nature herself. The woods are lovely and deep, and there are many mysterious and powerful plants there, but they are special allies for special times.
(Speaking of which, the Russian government, I am told, in desperation, went to consult with the witch Baba Mat, The Wise Old Woman Who Lives In The Land Of Many Tall Trees Beyond The Black Mountains. She is rumored to be an excellent herbalist and the only one who can save Mother Russia.) And while I like to walk in the woods, the plants I find myself using on a daily basis are the weeds right under my feet - in gardens, yards, driveways, playgrounds, hospitals, fence rows, institutions, and campuses. These ordinary plants have abilities that seem miraculous to me.
by Susun S Weed
My friend Elsa always talked to plants. I thought she was crazy. Safely insane, but definitely disassociated from reality. Until the plants laughed at me.
Autumn of 1980, returning home from a rare dinner out after a healing intensive at my land in the Catskills, I stopped to get my mail. An unusual envelope contained a $500 money order, signed "Mother Nature" and this note: "It's my birthday and I could think of no better gift than giving you the means to build a shelter for your teaching."
How wonderful. How perplexing. Even way back then, $500 would not put down a floor, let alone walls or a roof! What building could I create with such a large gift of such a small sum? In a waking dream I saw the answer.
by Susun S Weed
Deep within you, whether you are aware of it or not, is your primal need for breast. It is part of you; it was born with you. It has been with you for millions of years.
When you emerged into the world of air, hunger came with you. And linked to hunger was the remedy for hunger, already known to you. You had, at birth, the skill to guide yourself to it by touch, by smell, by warmth, by sweetness. You had, and still have, internal, ancient coding to find the breast and suck.
‘Find the breast and suck.’ This message sings in you, in every one of us, from birth to death. It says: ‘Find the breast, source of nourishment, source of contentment.’ It urges: ‘Find the breast, where hunger ceases, where you are one with the mother, one with the pulsing heart of the Mother, at one with Breast/Heart/Mother/All.’
by Susun S Weed
I'm so glad I'm finally old. Sadly, many of my friends don't like me to use that word. They say they don't want to be "old". I think what they really mean is they don't want to be the kind of old that's infirm and dependent. I agree.
Vigorously old, excitingly old, sensuously old, daringly old - those are the adjectives I like to apply to myself as an old woman.
Toward the goal of remaining vigorous, exciting, sensuous, and daring for many more decades, I pay close attention to the food I eat and the medicines I use, and don't use. So you may be as vigorous, exciting, sensual, and daring as you wish to be, too, I'll share my thoughts and choices about health and nourishment with you.
by Rita Lewis
We are so fortunate, for the Goddess is everywhere. She can be seen in the Peruvian jungle, in stone carvings of roses and grain decorating European churches, in Buckingham palace as Isis supporting the hearth, and as a gentle, haunting spirit in the traditional sacred groves of the British Isles.
I have been blessed to feel Her presence in all these varied places, but it was in my own back garden in Buckinghamshire where I first truly saw Her face, heard Her voice and enjoyed Her constant, wise companionship.
by Susun S Weed
In the beginning, according to the Wise Woman tradition, everything began, as everything does, at birth.
The Great Mother of All gave birth and the earth appeared out of the void. Then the Great Mother of All gave birth again, and again, and again, and people, and animals, and plants appeared on the earth. They were all very hungry. "What shall we eat?" they asked the Great Mother. "Now you eat me," she said, smiling. Soon there were a very great many lives, but the Great Mother of All was enjoying creating and giving birth so much that she didn't want to stop. "Ah," she said smiling, "now I eat you." And so she still does.