Healing and Transmuting Grief with Herbs
“I wanted to change the world. I changed myself and the world changed.”
Hello Friends,
People of good conscience everywhere are reeling from current events in the world that mirror the challenges in our own psyches and relationships, writ large.
None of us could possibly heal alone, nor change the world alone, nor are we meant to.
Plants are part of our community of healers, so please let them help you strengthen, nourish, and support yourself, so we can all bring our talents and love together to make the world we know is possible a living reality for all beings.
In our own homes and relationships we can live this reality now, holding a place of peace and respect that ripples out into our beloved world.
I know sorrow. I have descended into the depths of it and risen, again and again. Whether we are responding to personal losses, or are grieving for all the life that is being harmed, the communities that are being ravaged, the water and air that are over-burdened with fossil fuel pollution, our grief needs to be felt, cried, and expressed physically and emotionally, so that our natural joy can flourish, too.
Grief and Joy are like yin and yang; they are essential expressions of becoming a fully humane, compassionate being. They are part of the circle of life.
We are often told we have to ‘just let it go,’ whatever ‘it’ is. While you can let challenging experiences settle to the back of your mind and heart instead of them staying in the forefront, what you’ve seen, you’ve seen. Where can you let it go? What has happened has happened. And yet, the past can only become the past when you fully enter into the new present. Painful events, like celebratory ones, are part of you, part of what makes you who you are. Experiences that hurt so badly when you’re going through them ultimately serve to awaken your compassion and foster the deepest healing and reconnection. And Joy.
Hearts get broken. They always have, and they always will.
“The only heart that can’t be broken is the heart that is already completely open.”
You can consciously partner with an herb using a specific intent to reconnect to and open your heart, to remember how to put love first. I counsel people who have been trying to let go and yet feel totally stuck, that the task is not to let go but to allow their own heart to expand in order to hold the pain and not be engulfed by it—to metaphorically grow the heart so that the pain can be there, held in their love, which is so much greater than they can imagine.
I realize this is not easy. It requires courage, clear intention, and support. It asks for your willingness to release attachment to your story, to your interpretation of events. Along with this flexibility of mind, it requires clear seeing, which is to simply see what is without blame.
Some of my favorite herbal allies for heartbreak and heartache, shock, and grief are: lavender, rose, hawthorn, motherwort, linden, and violet.
Other supportive herbal allies are sassafras, burdock, nettles, and holy basil. I also like chamomile, mimosa, and cherry blossoms. Soothing nervines that are helpful to get to know are California poppy, skullcap, orange blossoms, and oat straw. Flower essences play a part here, too, as do herbs that match a specific individual in a specific situation.
Keep reading for more information and recipes with hawthorn and mimosa…
If grief and sorrow have a hold on you at this time, turn to the unassuming, gnarly-looking hawthorn tree for powerful, gentle healing to help you through life’s thorniest situations. Her berries and flowers make a potent brew to heal your aching, or even broken heart. I wouldn’t want to be without this beloved ally and I drink her medicine when life is sweet, and when it is at its most bitter.
When Your Heart Hurts and You’re Not Sure You’re Strong Enough Blend:
Hawthorn Berries – 1 cup
Oat tops – 1 cup
White Oak Bark – 1/2 cup
Put the dried herbs into a half-gallon jar and add boiling water. Fill the jar as full as possible and cap tightly. Let steep 10-12 hours, unrefrigerated. Decant. Squeeze out the herbs. Re-heat and drink several cups daily. Refrigerate the rest and re-heat it to drink.With each sip, gulp, or cup, feel your heart lift and lighten, your mind clear, your nerves relax, and your soul strengthening.
Linden is not only a popular wildflower for making honey, but is a "honey" of a tree. Linden opens the emotional and spiritual heart even as it improves cardiovascular circulation. If you are willing, linden helps you dance with current grief and clear out old, "stuck" grief. Linden has a divinely inspired way of opening you to the bliss of your true multidimensional nature - the larger reality we're all part of. I have often turned to linden in times of loss.
You can drink the infusion to calm you and to help you sleep. Taking a linden blossom bath is a particularly magical way to experience the linden tree's special medicine.
Here’s a recipe for a simple, yet potent linden-infused bath from my book The Gift of Healing Herbs:
Linden Blossom Bath
2-3 cups dried linden blossoms
Pour boiling water over the herbs in a half-gallon jar. Fill the jar as full as possible and cap tightly and let sit 1-2 hours. Pour the liquid through a good strainer and add it to a bathtub filled with hot water. Then pour another half-gallon of boiling water over the herbs in the jar, and let that sit overnight to drink the next day (cool or reheated). Refrigerate the remainder after that.
I suspect that the vast heart - and soul-opening that can sometimes occur spontaneously after a deep loss may happen because your loved one is able to share a taste of what their newly expanded state feels like.
A linden bath can help open your senses to feel your departed loved one nearby, responding to your love. Even if you are crying a river of tears, linden brings a bright, golden-light energy to touch the heaviness of sorrow over death and loss. It's as if you are dancing single-mindedly with grief, and suddenly bliss cuts in and invites you to dance in the present moment where there is no death, no separation, only awareness and love. Only joy!
Grief, especially when it is not fully felt and expressed, can too easily turn to despair, overwhelm, or numbness. And though it is essential to rest when everything is pushing us to speed along, it is also vital to take action. There are innumerable mental health and spiritual benefits to taking action. You can create art. You can join with others in your community to take care of what you love, and/or to take a stand against what must not be allowed to continue. We mustn’t fall prey to debilitating despair and allow it to consume us. The tide is turning and we are all needed. The chaos of now is part of our evolution.
When I do magical spells and rituals for specific outcomes like stopping the newest fossil fuel project being pushed in my town, I always end my spells with:
And may the Greatest Good of All be Served. Blessed Be.
Earth. Mimosa is a common “weed tree” in the Leguminosae (Fabaceae) or pea family. Like all common names, ‘mimosa’ can be used to refer to different plants and trees in different regions, but this species (Albizzia julibrissin) the only one I am writing about as it’s the only one I have personal experience using.
Gazing at them softly can be healing to an aching heart. When I lived on busy, treeless West 14th Street in New York City, I used to walk four blocks south and half a block east toward Fifth Avenue, and then simply stand still under a beautiful little mimosa tree growing out of the sidewalk on the small, charming, west village street. One of mimosa’s nicknames is “silk tree” because she is so silky-smooth and soothing.
Whenever I felt an aching longing for nature or for like-minded companions, the mimosa’s flowers—soft, feathery, gossamer balls made of silky strands of pink magenta and glimmering gold—would almost always bring me back to delight. I had no idea that I could make tea or other medicine from them.
(all excerpts above from The Gift of Healing Herbs)
Harvest these beauties for a delightful Mimosa Flower Water or turn it into a tincture!
Green Blessings,
Robin Rose