The world is full of medicine. 

But given the state of things, you might not believe me.  I mean, if the medicine is everywhere, why are we all so sick?  This is exactly the sort of disconnect that made my tummy hurt as a child and sent my teenage rage spinning out.

Well, I’m sure I don’t have the answer. That would require the world to make sense, for it to be just and predictable.  Well it’s not and it doesn’t and we might have a better chance of survival if more folks would just admit that.

But leaving the chaos that is the human experience aside for the moment, what I think I can say is that no matter the ills, or the grief, or the terror, we can find a medicine that helps us on our journey. 

Because our medicine chest is greater than a pill bottle.  It is filled with wise weeds and with nourishing people, it holds the stars and the blue heron. 

It’s a medicine of place.  And it’s strong.

Herbally yours,

Spring is popping! 

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