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calendula officinalis
as the season shifted, a dear friend and i had plans to explore and harvest some of the last gifts of elderberry.
she came to my home from the land she tends in central oregon. with a bag of beautiful freshly harvested calendula. we laughed, and dialogued about whether to shift plans.
pivoting is an ongoing learning in my life, and i was really ‘hoping’ for elderberry. so we ventured out to a place i had been more than once.Ii lost my way, turned around.
we laughed and tried one more familiar place, and found no elderberries, but a beautiful piece of obsidian by the root of the elder.
the juxtaposition of the darkness of the rain filled clouds, leaves falling from limbs, and directness of obsidian.
i had tears in my eyes on the way home, speaking of inquiry. wondering, remembering the seasons in my life where i wondered what is wrong with me? embarrassed that i had pushed forward to predetermined plans, uncomfortable with the unknown and unanticipated.
we got home late, and the process of distillation was markedly different than it had been previously.
confused, i turned off the fire, and waited for it to cool.
we sat by the fire and shared the warmth of seeing and being seen.
after she left, i sat in the rain, as the sky darkened, making medicine with the gift of calendula flower.
an invitation to be with what is present, without illusion or pretense.
the process asked for deep curiosity, and in the end this medicine was made in a hydrodistillation process, as the small, delicate flowers slipped into the water reservoir, resulting in a deeper color to the hydrosol.
relationship with calendula is an inquiry of curiosity.
acknowledging experience and inviting innocent, childlike curiosity to this moment. an understanding that while a moment may appear familiar, i have never been in this time and space before.
with a deep reflection of the sun, calendula illuminates what is.
what is.
calendula expertly tends to the wounding that is married to being manifest in human form. a deep understanding of the gentle directness that is needed.
offering deep nurturance of skin, our largest sensing organ. teachings of the strength of sensitivity.
growing abundantly from seeds that are reminiscent of a curved spine, a picture of what it is to rest deeply in the knowing that this moment is equally as brutal, beautiful, and poignant as the last.
and as i sat in the rain, finishing the medicine- i threaded marigold, a dear kin of calendula. i counted the flowers, 12, interesting i thought.
and then one calendula bud that had been hidden. 13 flowers. pointing to the 13 lunar cycles, and the passion of womb tending that inspired the gathering of this particular medicine.
may you rest within and without.
all ways,
always.