I am self employed and so I have this morning emailed the people I work for to say that I won't be taking on any referrals until the second week in August. I always know that I am getting sick when my tremor begins, a sign that my nerves are literally on edge, and after reading your words I saw that my hand was shaking!
I love this post about nettles and I'd be the first to tell others to take a break so I took my own medicine too and this week having made more time for myself I'm gonna go out and see what state the nettle seeds are in? Every year I collect them, storing them in a big jar full to sprinkle them in my food as I go along, a tonic for my adrenals and I think a way to keep next years hay fever in check. It takes some doing but the seeds I think are worth the effort.
This Spring my husband and I were eating early Lime tree leaves in a wood when two teenagers stopped to ask us what we were doing, and we had a lovely little chat with them about wild foraging. It was pretty heartwarming to be asked and for these youngsters to be really interested. I'm determined to teach my granddaughter a healthy respect and a knowledge of plants if I can.
Another thing I have made this week is Bilberry vodka. Blimey, that was a labour of love collecting the little berries, but the colour presently leaking into the vodka is also well worth the effort. A gorgeous bluey purple. I could only make a tiny bit so it will be for sipping not gulping!
Thank you for your post, as always it has warmed my heart, made me think and this week made me act too!
This is so good to hear. Rest well! My equivalent of your hand tremor would be an eye twitch. A sure sign to stop. Nettle seeds are something I nibble on the fly, but probably could collect a little more concertedly, for once, as they are a great tonic in small doses. Flavoured vodkas are something of a signature hobby, and my fridge is full of things that could be ink or drink, but in deference to my flatmate, are clearly labelled...
This made me think of a fortnight ago, teaching a bunch of young kids (strangers... instant friends) that I was playing hide and seek with, to treat nettle stings with nettle juice and how to pick barehanded... before deliberately stinging myself all over my legs to prove that stings could sometimes be reinterpreted as warmth and tingling...
"Can I sting myself...?" immediately asked a wild eyed 5 year old, her voice brilliant with bravery. The nervous, stung and weepy 11 year old grew a little curious and peered on... I delighted in the needling tingle to my legs and the needling injury inflicted upon the machine.
I long to taste those Southern, clifftop brambles again and cook foraged finds with you. Thanks, once again for the perfect start to a week.
Excellent. I have friends who are happy to be stung, and some people consider it beneficial. Plus it's good for kids to to see that it is also no big deal. The long-lasting rash that my skin produces means I am somewhat more careful with these hairy friends than my adventurous nature would suggest.
"I can remember my youngest nephew picking nettles with me on a camping holiday, stoically holding back tears as he got a little stung on his wrists above his gloves while we gathered them. I was intensely proud of him. "
That is so sad. Teaching proto-toxic masculinity. Let the boy cry.
I am sorry, but that is bullshit. The paragraph has nothing whatsoever to do with what you accuse me of. My sense of pride was in his willingness to learn a new thing even though it may cause a little discomfort (a major theme of this entire Substack), not in any aspect of emotional repression. I guess you read into things what you want to read, but that doesn't mean it relates at all to what I wrote.
All children of both sexes can benefit from learning to tolerate a little discomfort and it be no big deal. Good grief, we are going to need it over the coming era. A sense of pride in mastering one's emotions is also not 'toxic', and is frankly the main lesson in almost all spiritual paths, my own included. The exact same thing happened to me and no one accused my mum of teaching me 'toxic masculinity' even though it was the precise same lesson. Take a brief look at some of the uncomfortable or even briefly painful rites of passage worldwide in vibrant living cultures, and you will see that hardiness is not gendered, and not everything people write about on the internet has anything to do with the axe you may have to grind about how you'd like the roles to be expressed by everyone else.
I also showed three nieces how to make nettle cordage and they were all equally stoic about little stings, I just don't have room for seven anecdotes, one for each beloved young relative. That nephew is now one of the kindest, most capable, excellent young men on the planet, and also is perfectly able to cry when needed.
I sincerely hope that this space doesn't degenerate into the same morass of rushed or selective understanding and egoic posturing that other social tedia have acheived.
This is English irony, right? humour does not travel well?
Ithink it unfair of you. They do not look rushed. I think caroline takes a lot of time to write the egoic posturings, as you call them. It must too take a long time for such busy person to read and like all the nice comments.
No, Baba Yaga's Mom, my comment is to the previous level in the thread, which doesn't appear very obvious, given the webpage layout... I'm commenting about the (IMHO) misplaced accusation of encouraging toxic masculinity. It seemed rushed, ill thought through and perhaps even driven by signaling virtue though perhaps also by fears and lack of time - both outputs of the machine.
I'm always massively impressed by Caroline's thoughtfulness so no worries there. But kudos to you for sharing the burden of keeping this space sociable rather than just social; I hope that that role is shared and even becomes unnecessary as we each check our own contributions first and foremost.
sometimes the right words, the right story, comes when you precisely require it. this beautiful piece was the need i didn't know i needed. and multiple cheers for your next book!
It's a beautiful and heart-wrenching documentary about nettles and grieving and the healing power of weaving. So very beautiful and a similar reminder of their magic.
I haven't watched it all yet, but I commissioned a piece about the years of work behind it for Dark Mountain. I will soon have time to actually watch it all!
Reading this was such a bright spot today. You have taught me so much about medicine my friend, and making the space to care for oneself in body and spirit. I walked by the Motherwort this morning, bowed under the rains but still blooming joyously, and thought of you. I gave the nettles a high five too. :)
"When two or more people are gathered together to make a thread, from two or more fibres, perhaps the oldest human story is told again. Not the one with heroes, gods, beasts and villains; but the story underneath that story, the mythic net which holds it all together, gathers the wood for the fire around which all tales are told, mends the pouch in which the shard of flint to light the tinder of imagination is kept." Stunning Caroline - you capture what's sensed but been lingering unsaid for me with this passage and the 'mythic net'!!
Caroline, thank you. What a treasure trove. Particularly moved by Reweave Mythic Time. Medicine for the world afflicted by alienation, disembodiment and hubris. Feeling so much gratitude for your expression and the links too.
Thank you. We are sold alienation daily. But there are so many of us out here attempting to point out the free ways into connection left, right and centre, away from the hubris, judgmentalism and machinations of mainstream so-called culture. It's a good place to hang out with people, I think, to reorient ourselves.
I love this. Thanks for reading your post, your voice is very soothing. I am a knitter myself, although lately I have been thinking of returning to basketry, something I once did in high school for an art project. The cane I located is from Asia and I live in South Africa, so it would make sense to try out more local grasses, twigs and vines. Your description of the blackberries also took me back to my childhood when we would gather bramble berries from the marshy area below our cottage in the Drakensberg mountains.
This is so lovely. Thank you. Spinning is a constant for me, but I’m new to cordage. The nettles I planted surrendered to the burdock. There is still more wool than I can ever spin left from when i kept sheep. Your writing is a joy!
This is beautiful. And wise. I spin and weave but haven’t tried cordage. The wool from my past life as a shepherd keeps me busy and there’s flax in the barn ready to ret. I tried planting nettles but the burdock seems to have prevented them from joining the party in the back yard.
This was such a lovely post. I'm a knitter and a spinner, and without these in my life I think I'd go up the wall. I've been thinking of how to describe the importance of these crafts to me. It's not just a relaxing hobby, or an outlet for creativity. It's meditative, and freeing. I'm making my own clothes, slowly and in natural materials I've chosen or prepared myself, and I can change what I make however I like. They haven't been produced in a distant factory by miserable people. In the case of knitting it's a skill I learned from my mum; it's a real living connection to a crafting tradition going back who knows how long?
And your memories of being sent out on brambling missions took me right back!
I grew up picking morels with my Pap here in the forests of Pennsylvania.
When my son was born I kept him out of school + we spent our days in the woods. I tried to attract other homeschooling mothers to a similar mindset. More often than not, the children were scolded by their mothers to, "not get muddy," or, "keep [their] sneakers clean."
I learned: I am fortunate. I've lived a nourished life. My son, too. We feel quite at home when stained, muddied and blemished w/ the occasional rash.
Thank you for this Caroline.
I am self employed and so I have this morning emailed the people I work for to say that I won't be taking on any referrals until the second week in August. I always know that I am getting sick when my tremor begins, a sign that my nerves are literally on edge, and after reading your words I saw that my hand was shaking!
I love this post about nettles and I'd be the first to tell others to take a break so I took my own medicine too and this week having made more time for myself I'm gonna go out and see what state the nettle seeds are in? Every year I collect them, storing them in a big jar full to sprinkle them in my food as I go along, a tonic for my adrenals and I think a way to keep next years hay fever in check. It takes some doing but the seeds I think are worth the effort.
This Spring my husband and I were eating early Lime tree leaves in a wood when two teenagers stopped to ask us what we were doing, and we had a lovely little chat with them about wild foraging. It was pretty heartwarming to be asked and for these youngsters to be really interested. I'm determined to teach my granddaughter a healthy respect and a knowledge of plants if I can.
Another thing I have made this week is Bilberry vodka. Blimey, that was a labour of love collecting the little berries, but the colour presently leaking into the vodka is also well worth the effort. A gorgeous bluey purple. I could only make a tiny bit so it will be for sipping not gulping!
Thank you for your post, as always it has warmed my heart, made me think and this week made me act too!
This is so good to hear. Rest well! My equivalent of your hand tremor would be an eye twitch. A sure sign to stop. Nettle seeds are something I nibble on the fly, but probably could collect a little more concertedly, for once, as they are a great tonic in small doses. Flavoured vodkas are something of a signature hobby, and my fridge is full of things that could be ink or drink, but in deference to my flatmate, are clearly labelled...
Thank you. “Ink or drink” made me smile! A very cautious flatmate I imagine!
We have shared homes 4 times so he knows my schtick: ink or drink, goop or soup, hedge or veg...
Wonderful!
This made me think of a fortnight ago, teaching a bunch of young kids (strangers... instant friends) that I was playing hide and seek with, to treat nettle stings with nettle juice and how to pick barehanded... before deliberately stinging myself all over my legs to prove that stings could sometimes be reinterpreted as warmth and tingling...
"Can I sting myself...?" immediately asked a wild eyed 5 year old, her voice brilliant with bravery. The nervous, stung and weepy 11 year old grew a little curious and peered on... I delighted in the needling tingle to my legs and the needling injury inflicted upon the machine.
I long to taste those Southern, clifftop brambles again and cook foraged finds with you. Thanks, once again for the perfect start to a week.
Jx
Excellent. I have friends who are happy to be stung, and some people consider it beneficial. Plus it's good for kids to to see that it is also no big deal. The long-lasting rash that my skin produces means I am somewhat more careful with these hairy friends than my adventurous nature would suggest.
"I can remember my youngest nephew picking nettles with me on a camping holiday, stoically holding back tears as he got a little stung on his wrists above his gloves while we gathered them. I was intensely proud of him. "
That is so sad. Teaching proto-toxic masculinity. Let the boy cry.
I am sorry, but that is bullshit. The paragraph has nothing whatsoever to do with what you accuse me of. My sense of pride was in his willingness to learn a new thing even though it may cause a little discomfort (a major theme of this entire Substack), not in any aspect of emotional repression. I guess you read into things what you want to read, but that doesn't mean it relates at all to what I wrote.
All children of both sexes can benefit from learning to tolerate a little discomfort and it be no big deal. Good grief, we are going to need it over the coming era. A sense of pride in mastering one's emotions is also not 'toxic', and is frankly the main lesson in almost all spiritual paths, my own included. The exact same thing happened to me and no one accused my mum of teaching me 'toxic masculinity' even though it was the precise same lesson. Take a brief look at some of the uncomfortable or even briefly painful rites of passage worldwide in vibrant living cultures, and you will see that hardiness is not gendered, and not everything people write about on the internet has anything to do with the axe you may have to grind about how you'd like the roles to be expressed by everyone else.
I also showed three nieces how to make nettle cordage and they were all equally stoic about little stings, I just don't have room for seven anecdotes, one for each beloved young relative. That nephew is now one of the kindest, most capable, excellent young men on the planet, and also is perfectly able to cry when needed.
I sincerely hope that this space doesn't degenerate into the same morass of rushed or selective understanding and egoic posturing that other social tedia have acheived.
This is English irony, right? humour does not travel well?
Ithink it unfair of you. They do not look rushed. I think caroline takes a lot of time to write the egoic posturings, as you call them. It must too take a long time for such busy person to read and like all the nice comments.
No, Baba Yaga's Mom, my comment is to the previous level in the thread, which doesn't appear very obvious, given the webpage layout... I'm commenting about the (IMHO) misplaced accusation of encouraging toxic masculinity. It seemed rushed, ill thought through and perhaps even driven by signaling virtue though perhaps also by fears and lack of time - both outputs of the machine.
I'm always massively impressed by Caroline's thoughtfulness so no worries there. But kudos to you for sharing the burden of keeping this space sociable rather than just social; I hope that that role is shared and even becomes unnecessary as we each check our own contributions first and foremost.
sometimes the right words, the right story, comes when you precisely require it. this beautiful piece was the need i didn't know i needed. and multiple cheers for your next book!
Have you seen this film?
https://www.nettledress.org/
It's a beautiful and heart-wrenching documentary about nettles and grieving and the healing power of weaving. So very beautiful and a similar reminder of their magic.
I haven't watched it all yet, but I commissioned a piece about the years of work behind it for Dark Mountain. I will soon have time to actually watch it all!
Oh beautiful. It immediately reminded me of you. ♡
🌹
Reading this was such a bright spot today. You have taught me so much about medicine my friend, and making the space to care for oneself in body and spirit. I walked by the Motherwort this morning, bowed under the rains but still blooming joyously, and thought of you. I gave the nettles a high five too. :)
"When two or more people are gathered together to make a thread, from two or more fibres, perhaps the oldest human story is told again. Not the one with heroes, gods, beasts and villains; but the story underneath that story, the mythic net which holds it all together, gathers the wood for the fire around which all tales are told, mends the pouch in which the shard of flint to light the tinder of imagination is kept." Stunning Caroline - you capture what's sensed but been lingering unsaid for me with this passage and the 'mythic net'!!
What an absolute gift this was to read
Caroline, thank you. What a treasure trove. Particularly moved by Reweave Mythic Time. Medicine for the world afflicted by alienation, disembodiment and hubris. Feeling so much gratitude for your expression and the links too.
Thank you. We are sold alienation daily. But there are so many of us out here attempting to point out the free ways into connection left, right and centre, away from the hubris, judgmentalism and machinations of mainstream so-called culture. It's a good place to hang out with people, I think, to reorient ourselves.
I love this. Thanks for reading your post, your voice is very soothing. I am a knitter myself, although lately I have been thinking of returning to basketry, something I once did in high school for an art project. The cane I located is from Asia and I live in South Africa, so it would make sense to try out more local grasses, twigs and vines. Your description of the blackberries also took me back to my childhood when we would gather bramble berries from the marshy area below our cottage in the Drakensberg mountains.
What a gloriously perfect post. And akin to something I experienced myself this past week. Thank you!
This is so lovely. Thank you. Spinning is a constant for me, but I’m new to cordage. The nettles I planted surrendered to the burdock. There is still more wool than I can ever spin left from when i kept sheep. Your writing is a joy!
This is beautiful. And wise. I spin and weave but haven’t tried cordage. The wool from my past life as a shepherd keeps me busy and there’s flax in the barn ready to ret. I tried planting nettles but the burdock seems to have prevented them from joining the party in the back yard.
Thank you for writing this.
This was such a lovely post. I'm a knitter and a spinner, and without these in my life I think I'd go up the wall. I've been thinking of how to describe the importance of these crafts to me. It's not just a relaxing hobby, or an outlet for creativity. It's meditative, and freeing. I'm making my own clothes, slowly and in natural materials I've chosen or prepared myself, and I can change what I make however I like. They haven't been produced in a distant factory by miserable people. In the case of knitting it's a skill I learned from my mum; it's a real living connection to a crafting tradition going back who knows how long?
And your memories of being sent out on brambling missions took me right back!
Thanks for posting! Carrie
I grew up picking morels with my Pap here in the forests of Pennsylvania.
When my son was born I kept him out of school + we spent our days in the woods. I tried to attract other homeschooling mothers to a similar mindset. More often than not, the children were scolded by their mothers to, "not get muddy," or, "keep [their] sneakers clean."
I learned: I am fortunate. I've lived a nourished life. My son, too. We feel quite at home when stained, muddied and blemished w/ the occasional rash.
Thank you for this, Caroline. Lovely!