I found myself among the cottonwoods and willows. I was probably there all along. I looked up into the high tree tipped with buds, the sun filtering through thick branches. I quietly filled my jar with buds and twigs. A bit of bark.
The breeze brought news of rain as I gathered and listened. My true essence blooming and enveloped me as I wild crafted the materials to make my pain medicine.
My fingers agilely gathered the herbs, a bit of pine, willow bark, cottonwood. For so long, eight tablespoons of this, two tablespoons of that, a waterproof label. The medicines amazing and developed to help masses of people. But my headaches still seemed unanswered. This time, among the cottonwoods, I heard the recipe. Simple really.
Finding oneself and recalling the gifts and genetic dispositions and self that is true within our inner most being often eludes in the face of the world. To find that knowing, that instinct and profound quiet, the peace of it all, the true self calls.
But there I was all along among the willows. My intuition full, my hands deftly fingering the right additives for my concoction.
Instead of alcohol I added my own homemade red wine vinegar.
I added the last of our honey harvest, licking the sweetness off of my fingers after squeezing it through.
I added oil to the salve ingredients.
The sun will infiltrate their cell structure and bring out its real essence. It knows what it is meant to be. And there I am too. Among the cat tails and meadowlarks.