STINGING NETTLE

You know that first day in the last reaches of winter, upon which sun’s rays cup your cheek in their palms, and you actually, truly, feel the warmth?

You feel the warmth soak into tingling skin, and wonder how anything could feel so good. You get lost in the alchemy, as rays reach into chilled bones to loosen the grip of a long winter trance.

My feet carry me by memory to the greatest alder tree I have ever been in the presence of. The same tree I have been kneeling beneath all winter; knees wet in worship at the roots of the unseen. These roots are hidden beneath rich black soil blanketed by moss, leaves, lichen, and the tree’s own fallen limbs.

A feeling stings my eyes as I greet the little ones I’ve been waiting for. The stinging nettles have arrived from their dark winter womb. Hundreds, no, surely thousands, of nettles erupt through the moss, decaying leaves, and lichen below the great alder. Tender young leaves unfurl at a pace slower than I am able to comprehend. I see only stillness where there is undeniable growth.

This calms me; to know the forces I cannot see are as true as anything tangible. I bow to all of the invisible forces that shape me, guide me, protect me, and teach me a deep faith in the world. I bow to the unseen.

I think of what it means to be a nettle-eater. I think of what it means to place the life-force of a being into your mouth, swallow, and absorb it into your body. I cannot think of any being more worthy of reverence than the ones I am in relationship with in this way.

It is a warm March day and I drink nettle tea down into a thirsty body. I feel the elements all dancing in me, feel fire tingling in my fingertips from harvesting. It has been a long winter of worship at their roots, clearing salmon berry bushes and tending to this nettle patch, and I am beginning to understand the word gratitude. Not as the three syllables my tongue can create, but as a feeling woven into my bones, like the first touch of spring.

𝘛𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒̱𝘸𝘪𝘬̱𝘸𝘢̱𝘴𝘶𝘵'𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘹̱𝘸 𝘏𝘢̱𝘹𝘸𝘢'𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.