Coming out of Winter and into Spring, you are in one moment marveling and giddy at the upward spokes of thrusting crocus, tiny fragile leaves huddling together on the muddy ground, and even (!!) some miraculous delicate blue and white blossoms no bigger than the tip of your pinky… and a moment later belligerently grumbling, dragging yourself out of the dark womb of home and hearth, hungry from a long winter, ready to eat, ready to be warm, ready to be ready already! I always am reminded that spring is that pushy season of rebirth—we are all infants again, once more learning to walk in the world, for the first time all over again, with all the ecstatic moments of bliss and crankiness of re-finding our feet.
Winter is not only a time of shorter days and longer nights, of huddling under layers of warm wool, wrapping your hands around warm mugs and bowls of savory rooty stews—it’s also a time of digesting mentally, sorting through the lessons of the year prior, mending and washing and folding our emotional laundry, which has been well-worn by hard work and good fun, and sometimes soiled with sadness, tinged by anger.
There’s a cathartic courage in stepping into spring, having done one’s dark-time homework, and facing bravely the wide world once more, inviting new experiences. With inspiration and input from my teacher and classmates at Sacred Plant Traditions, here is the infusion that I’ve put together—heartening, encourage-ing, nourishing, and soothing for the springing self.
A heartening spring tea blend
1 rose petals
1 chamomile blossoms
1 1/2 nettle leaf
1/2 orange peel
Use the above proportions to make whatever amount you so desire. Steep tea for at least 10 minutes. Inhale. Enjoy.
Happy spring, everyone.