An East African Materia Medica

Serengeti

Introductory notes: the plants referenced here are ones I have been using in the highlands of north-central Tanzania, at an elevation between 7,500 and 8,500 feet from sea level. The climate is generally moderate, with mornings in the 50s and daytime highs in the 80s. It is the rainy season right now - the flora will be different in the drier months (May to October). Generally, one could find these species in a broad area from lake Victoria in the west, north past Nairobi in Kenya, out to the Ethiopian highlands in the east and down past the Ngorongoro crater in the south.
I reference plants that I have been able to positively identify, gather, prepare and apply myself. Preparation notes are included. Botanical names, as well as Swahili (Swa.) and Maasai (Maa.) names are included if known. Clinical outcomes and observations are from my herbal practice in the context of Wasso District Hospital over the course of about four weeks of work. Patient volume varies; on a typical day there will be five or six patients returning for acute wound care, two or three new acute wounds of varying severity, two or three chronic wounds or infections, and between two and six cases from the internal medicine wards (chronic asthma, diabetes, hypertension, peptic ulcer, HIV and its complications).
Patient diets are generally similar, and quite simple: rice and cornmeal are the chief carbohydrates, and beans the chief source of protein. There are some tomatoes, cabbage greens and carrots used, and occasional meat (goat, beef). Sources of fat (used in abundance) are questionable, consisting mostly of refined vegetable oils. In the context of the hospital, dairy products are virtually absent. One conspicuous factor is the ubiquitous use of soda (often up to six or more bottles a day) which is in large part at the root of the cases of diabetes and gastrointestinal ulcer - the latter also connetected to the near-universal Heliobacter pylori infection and the frequent, indiscriminate use of antibiotics.
This inappropriate use of over-the-counter (black market) antibiotics, as well as prescribed antibiotics in the hospital setting, have led to both gastrointestinal disturbance and antibiotic resistance, particularly in cases of cutaneous staphylococcus infection (but also typhoid and pneumococcus). This makes the use of herbal medicine all the more valuable and important. Wound management in acute cases usually involves simply a liquid iodine solution, though in chronic wounds I used herbal treatment exclusively. Aside from that, unless otherwise noted in discussing specific cases, treatment used was entirely herbal.



Achillea millefolium (Yarrow): truly a wound plant like no other. Luckily, there is a fair supply planted as an ornamental in the hospital garden. Daily preparation involves gathering a large handful of leaves and a flowerhead or two, coarsely chopping, placing them in a bowl and using just enough hot water to cover the herb. Then the mixture is blended and the juice strained and pressed. Yarrow juice is used as a wound wash for chronic ulcerations in cases of leprosy, diabetic foot ulcer, or unaddressed infected wounds. Apply liberally to gauze and use to scrub and irrigate the wound, cutting away necrotic tissue as necessary, twice daily. Saturate and pack gauze into deeper wounds if prurulent discharge is present (wet-to-dry dressing, iodine alternative, very effective).


Zanthoxylum chalybeum (Maa: loisugi): a bitter, pungent preparation is made by collecting the bark (outer and inner, after removing knobs and thorns), cutting into coarse strips, and decocting about one cupful of shredded bark to 1/2 gallon of water for 15-20 minutes. The decoction is yellowish-brown and can be used to irrigate wounds (mixed with yarrow juice) and internally for peptic ulcer and as a bitter digestive tonic, dosed at about 2 ounces of decoction twice a day before meals. One patient (who began his treatment with two days of goldenseal [Hydrastis] powder, 1/4 tsp. twice daily before food but then switched to this decoction) remarked that his after-meal symptoms of burning pain were completely resolved. He had previously tried a range of antibiotic treatments with no success.


Bidens pilosa: I tried this weedy plant as an alternative to yarrow for washing wounds, with limited success. It seems to lack some of the topical astringent hemostatic effect of yarrow. However, it is quite useful taken as a juice for internal use, particularly in cases where vitality is weak, there is anemia and/or fatigue, or the tissue (internal or external) seems in need of drying or toning. When these constitutional signs accompany infection, Bidens provides valuable systemic anti-infective support. This was particularly evident in a case of leprosy, where yarrow and usnea powder helped the lesions considerably, but failed to completely resolve the issue until Bidens was added. The aerial parts are harvested daily from specimens that have just started flowering (no seedheads), the leaves garbled from the stems, placed in a bowl and barely covered with cold boiled water. Then the mixture is blended and the juice strained and pressed. Patients take around two ounces of juice three times a day. The juice will keep at room temperature for 48 hours, but any leftovers should be discarded after that.


Usnea spp. (barbata / longissima): this hardy and cosmopolitan lichen can be identified by the white inner fungal cord (medulla) and the green outer algal cortex which can be "stripped" from the medulla as one might do with electrical wire. It grows at higher elevations, hanging off old tree branches closer to the hilltops, blowing in the near-constant wind. Here you can find it by the bagful. I have been using it primarily as a wound powder, particularly in long-standing damp lesions where I leave it embedded in the tissue for two days at a time before cleaning it out with yarrow/loisugi mixtures. It helps to form a nice matrix for granualtion tissue, while preventing infection and drying suppuration very effectively. In the leprosy case, it actually embedded itself into new skin, forming a sort of hybrid usnea-callous that closed the wound while also providing excellent protection from the pressure and friction that caused the lesions to re-open (Mycobacterium leprae can infect peripheral nerves leading to loss of sensation, certainly the case in my patient). My preparation method involved sun-drying the lichen until it was brittle (thereby increasing usnic acid content, too), then just cutting it for 15-20 minutes with a serrated blade until it became a mass of green powder and tangly white strands. The mass gets passed through a mesh strainer to leave only a fine, green powder which is liberally applied to wounds.
A note regarding leprosy: dressing the wounds is often counterproductive. They are moist and ooze quite a bit, and enclosing the discharge actually retards healing. Twice daily application of usnea powder to replace any that fell off during walking does the trick after a week to ten days, along with Bidens internally and good foot hygiene. Patient was discharged with a big wad of lichen to use and apply as a spit poultice (small amount at a time) should any further wounds develop. He had been in the hospital for six weeks before we began herbal treatment. Antibiotics had been used (internally and topically), along with bleach soaks, to little effect.


Argemone mexicana (Maa: langanum): a britsly Papaveracea with a bright orange latex and beautiful flower, it usually grows as a weed in planted fields. It is used by the Maasai as an immediate antiseptic and hemostatic treatment for minor cuts and wounds - really useful on trail walks. The latex, which flows profusely when any part of the plant is broken, tastes remarkably like celandine's. I regret not having had the opportunity to try it in cases of cholecystitis, though there was one patient who did come through minor theater with that condition. It was a very instructive abdominal exam, with all the classic signs in the right upper quadrant and referred scapula pain too. Ultrasound was inconclusive in her case. She was sent home and told to avoid fats before we got a chance to start herbal treatment.


Zingiber officinale (Swa: ntangawezi): this famous rhizome needs no picture nor description. It is readily available, still covered in red soil, at the weekly market in town. I purchased a big pile of it for the equivalent of about $2. While I made the occasional anti-nausea tea (for Westerners), the main use of this plant was as an anti-inflammatory circulatory stimulant to support the healing of chronic diabetic foot ulcers. I had two patients whom I followed with this treatment, along with caring for their primary wound and conducting daily foot and leg massages to promote lymphatic drainage. The procedure for preparation was simple: grate the fresh rhizome (about 1 TBS), add about 1 cup boiling water, let steep five minutes or so, then saturate a clean cloth with the infusion and apply hot to the foot. Before applying, I would take the leftover grated rhizome and apply it to the dorsum of the foot, then wrap it up. This happened twice daily.
A note regarding diabetic foot ulcers: one patient developed the ulcer after stepping on an acacia thorn which pierced her flip-flop and went straight through her foot, emerging from the top a bit lateral and proximal to her big toe. The resultant abscess had to be surgically opened, and a chronic wound developed. It was about the size of a nickel when I first saw it, and the whole foot was noticeably edematous. She could not walk on it. Daily bleach soaks and antibiotics had not really helped for the five weeks she'd been doing them. Within three days of using ginger and eliminating the bleach, the swelling began to subside and peripheral pulses returned. After about a week, the foot was almost normal in size, and the ulceration had reduced dramatically in diameter and depth (yarrow juice + usnea powder). Her course of antibiotics had ended a few days before. After two weeks she was walking pain-free, the ulceration was gone and fresh pink skin remained, and she was discharged with a big bag of prickly pear cactus pads.


Opuntia ficus-indica (prickly pear, Swa: freisha): an exotic cactus, the prickly pear has naturalized extensively across the Tanzanian highlands. Some specimens I've seen are over ten feet tall, bristling all over with long spines and tiny, fiberglass-like hairs that are perhaps even more of a hazard than the visible thorns. The fruits are starting to ripen here right about now, and can be used medicinally, but I harvested the wide pads by scraping them clean of spines with my knife's edge, then cutting the pads. Some clinical research looks at the fire-roasted pads (used as a food source in the American southwest), but I just went ahead and juiced them fresh. A little water is added to the chopped, cleaned pads (scraped, washed, and towel-dried), then they are blended and the juice is taken, at doses of about 1/2 cup full, twice daily before meals. I used this juice, sometimes spiced with a teaspoon of cinnamon powder if available, for managing elevated blood sugar associated with diabetes.
A note on diabetes: this is a relatively new disease here. None of the Maasai I worked with knew of any diabetics in their community. The cases were in overweight, non-Maasai community members, and staff members at the hospital. Once again, it seems to be a disease of relative affluence connected perhaps to that wonderful American export, the sugary soda, which is shared at almost every social gathering and can be a bit of a branded status symbol. Blood glucose levels are measured here as they are in Europe: in millimoles per liter, unlike in the US where the units are milligrams per deciliter. The conversion is based on the molecular weight of glucose (one mole of C6H12O6 is 180 grams), so 10mmol/L = 180mg/dL. That's a pretty high fasting level! The guideline is 6mmol/L, or about 104mg/dL, for a fasting blood glucose. One staff member at Wasso Hospital went from 10.4mmol/L to 7.8mmol/L in less then a week using Opuntia and cinnamon (and strictly avoiding soda). This result was a bit amazing to me, but isn't out of the realm of possibility (she was certainly pleased). Some confounding factors: I'm uncertain whether she had drunk any soda before her first test (would definitely have skewed the result, but even after a soda your BG shouldn't be 180); two different lab techs conducted the two tests (you might say lab work is objective, but I'm not so sure). Regardless, her BG levels have been a lot better in the mornings with the Opuntia juice than suggested by past test(s).


Aloe spp. (vera, alata, ferox. Swa: msubili): This succulent, rich in soothing gel, is a classic burn remedy. To be honest, I used it mostly for our family and other Westerners transiting through the guest house - but was also able to apply it on the more superficial burns I saw in minor theater. It is excellent to relieve pain and speed healing for superficial burns, but I'm not confident enough in its antiseptic power to recommend it on full-thickness burns after the top charred layer of skin sloghs off. However, with extensive burns, one of the major risks after infection is dehydration - and aloe can help a lot for that. One child who had been sweeping the floor of her home was extensively, though not deeply, burned when her wrap caught fire. Both arms and the back and front of her torso suffered partial thickness burns, and the evaporative fluid loss was high. The healthy skin on her legs showed pretty substantial dehydration, despite a lot of drinking. We used aloe five or more times a day (training her parents on how to apply it), and silver cream just twice over a week, and there was no infection and much less dehydration.
Preparing aloe is fairly easy. You cut whole leaves, then remove the spines on the sides of the leaves (taking care not to cut too deeply and expose the demulcent pulp). Then, simply cut cross-sections of leaf, peel off the green parts, and mush up the gel in a container. Apply liberally to the affected areas. One note: the stuff is remarkably bitter. Wash your hands after preparing.


Phytolacca dodecandra (Maa: ol'diangorras): I was excited to find the orange-red berries of this local species of pokeroot. It grows vigorously, more vine-like than its American cousin, and has a thick and juicy root. With some coaxing, I was able to harvest a fairly sizeable chunk. From this I cut wide slices, which were then pounded and the juice strained out. I used about 1/2ml of this juice on myself at first, then closer to 1ml twice daily for an HIV patient who had lymphatic swelling in cervical, axillary and inguinal nodes. She saw some improvement from this approach - not a dramatic reduction in swelling, but a marked reduction in tenderness. I searched extensively for cleavers (Galium), but was unable to find this species outside of the Ngorongoro crater rim. Needing a lymphatic, I opted to try this Phytolacca and was not displeased with the results. The flowers smell amazing, kind of like lilacs. The Maasai (at least those I spoke with) only know it as a poison plant and warned me against eating the berries.


Eucalyptus globulus (Swa: Makaratusi): These trees were planted by colonists, and now there are some huge specimens, usually along main roads but often in the more secluded (and less fumigated) corners of the villages, by streams. Many trees have been cut down, especially those next to cultivated fields, as they tend to suck up all available water and can contribute to crop loss during drought. Nevertheless, the leaves are abundant and quite fragrant, and I would place whole branches, slightly broken up, in pots of steaming water for patients in the pediatric ward who had chest congestion. The steam smelled nice, nobody complained, and some of the patients remarked that they were breathing more easily after taking big inhalations of the steam. This was especially evident in a case of chronic asthma, aggravated by the dusty conditions here, where eucalyptus steam inhalation provided almost immediate relief. Use a towel over your head for maximum steam concentration.


Olea africana (Maa: ol'orien): These strange looking olive trees live quite a long time, and have thick, gnarly trunks that end in a burst of spindly branches, loaded with leaves and olive-like fruits with little seeds that mature to an unpalatable orangeish color. I harvested the leaves to use as a treatment for hypertension. This condition is relatively rare (most blood pressures were in the 100/60 range) but more and more folks are experiencing higher blood pressures and atherosclerosis these days - even in the Maasai community. I'm not sure exactly why this is. Nevertheless, I'd give out bagfuls of fresh olive leaves, with the instructions to chop or pound a good handful and steep in a pint of hot water, drinking daily in two divided doses. Results took time - at least a couple of weeks - but I was able to see a small but consistent drop (5-10pts systolic) in blood pressures for those taking these leaf teas consistently.
The Maasai used the leaves for malaria and fever. Given their anti-inflammatory and potentially antiviral effects (extrapolating from research on the European cousin of this tree), these traditional uses make sense.


Commiphora africana (Swa: mturituri): I was introduced to this species as a remedy for colds: the resin that exudes from the bark of older trees is traditionally steamed and inhaled. Also, the root of younger trees is wonderfully fragrant and actually sweet - a remarkable surprise. But seeing as how I couldn't find enough resin, and eucalyptus was working well for chest congestion, I recommended the bark of this plant be chewed as a remedy for high cholesterol and atherosclerosis. I am extrapolating here from research on its cousins C. mol-mol (guggul) and C. myrrha (myrrh), and it is too soon to tell what kind of effect it may have had, but between that and the daily 3-4 cloves of garlic I am optimistic. One gentleman accosted me for a consultation on cholesterol and atherosclerosis while I was buying bar soap to do my laundry at the little shop across the street. He needed some exercise too - I suggested some brisk walking and less hanging out at the shop drinking soda.


Urtica massaica: Oddly, the Maasai didn't have a name for this ferocious species of nettle, preferring instead to give it a wide berth on the trail. The stinging hairs on this plant are stiff and potent even after drying, and can be two to three inches long on the stem. The plants grow to over six feet in height, out in the full sun. The sting persists for 24-48 hours, depending on how deep you're stung, and caused an immediate urticaria rash on my skin (U. dioica just doesn't do that for me). So I started using scissors to harvest the green tops, pre-flowering, and would juice them to a dark-green-black frothy fluid. Delicious. I'd combine it with the juiced berries of Cyphostemma (see below) to make a nutritive tonic for anemic patients. One cupful a day seemed like a good dose. Good nutrition, especially for moms and kids, is really important here: many are anemic, blood is difficult to obtain, and malnutrition is rampant.
Another use of this juice was for symptoms of allergy and upper respiratory congestion in Westerners unaccustomed to the dust and allergens of this environment. Half a cup of fresh nettle juice, once or twice a day, reduced eye itching and nasal congestion. Overall, it is a very nutritious, very drying herb.

Cyphostemma serpens (Swa: mwengele, Maa: ol'kilenyei): this viney, trailing plant drapes itself over low acacias and on termite hills. It produces clusters of berries, which the Maasai harvest while still green to use as a food and especially as a tonic for children. The tuberous root can also be boiled and eaten, though I didn't try this. The fruits have an agreeable sour green flavor, and I expect they contain a fair amount of organic acids and perhaps even ascorbates - a great supplement indeed! So I'd harvest clusters of the berries and juice them up, often with nettles, to add into the diets of those needing a special boost. 1/4 cup of the blend for kids, 1/2 cup or more for adults, once or twice a day.
Traditionally, the Maasai add the fruit pulp to milk and feed it to kids to help them grow stronger.


The bitters: I used the bark of Acacia species for this purpose, primarily for myself, my family, and the Westerners with digestive complaints. I preferred loisugi for local folk, as it seems to be more of a tissue tonic for long-standing gastrointestinal inflammation. The acacias are bitter and, depending how they are processed, possess a varying amount of tannins which can be useful if there are digestive complaints accompanied by loose stools or diarrhea.

Acacia nilotica (Maa: ol'kiloriti): this is an excellent and useful tree though, like most Acacia species, it is viciously thorny. It has a characteristic shaggy, dark brown bark and rounded, yellow pom-poms for flowers. The Maasai go at the trunk with a machete, gathering the middle, soft, tannin-free bark layer. The outer bark is very astringent, and serves as an anti-diarrheal. The innermost layer is very bitter, and acts as a purgative. But the soft middle stuff - just right. At special dates two or three times a year, they boil handfuls of it in a goat stew which is eaten to "cleanse and renew the belly". It is moderately bitter, somewhat reminiscent of yellowdock root in flavor, and small sips (1-2 oz) of the decoction before meals improve appetite and regulate bowel function well.
I myself became quite fond of using the younger branches of this tree, adopting another common Maasai habit. Stripped of thorns, they make excellent toothbrushes and lack the inner purgative bark layer. So, after the morning run and before breakfast, I'd walk around chewing on a six-inch chunk of twig, swallowing the bitter and slightly astringent juice, and rubbing my teeth and gums with the juicy fibrous end.


Acacia drepanolobium (Maa: ol'munishui): nicknamed "whistling thorn" because of the big, dark, hollow galls that catch wind with a characteristic whistle, the Maasai use its roots as parturients to help expel the afterbirth. This is actually a big issue in the local community, with many women suffering prolonged post-partum hemorrhages that can be life-threatening. But I didn't use this tree for that. The inner bark makes another excellent digestive bitter, but it is a bit more pungent and almost numbing to chew, reminding me slightly of kava. Another traditional use is for sore throats, which makes sense (though no throats were sore at Wasso). I used an infusion of the inner bark, about 1 TBS per cup of hot water, with a little honey as a pleasant evening after-dinner digestif. Supposedly these trees, which can grow to 15 feet, are the giraffe's favorite food. I witnessed them browsing on some one afternoon. They have some tricky lips, getting around those thorns.
Walking through the bush, you move from green grass, yellow-barked acacias, red soil and a winding stream into denser forest with loisugi, vines, and epiphytes. Then you pass under a nilotica branch and find yourself on rich, black soil in a sparse forest of whistling thorns. There is a hiss in the air. The trees have a conical growth pattern and a grayish, mottled bark. This, along with the dark galls that look like black spruce cones, makes you feel like you just stepped into a grove of old spruce, towards the top of a mountain on the East Coast of the US. For a moment, the thorns look like needles. Then you see two Maasai kids, long sticks in hand, pushing goats through the thicket - and you're back under the hot sun.


Leonotis mollissima (Maa: ol'bibi): I first grew this plant back in Vermont, where I knew it as "wild dagga". I've smoked the leaves, and it is a mild euphoriant (very short acting). Here, it is an ever-present weed. If the bark of the whistiling acacia is a bitter with mild carminative action, leonotis is first and foremost a digestive antispasmodic, and a decent digestive bitter after that. It is a Lamiacea after all. I recommended the fresh leaves, two or three at a time, for intestinal cramps and spasms where it provides fairly rapid and welcome relief. It is similar to horehoud (Marrubium) in flavor and texture, and shares with it the presence of the bitter lactone marrubiin.


The aromatics: there are numerous scented plants everywhere. Most don't have specific uses, though the locals will rub them on their bodies as perfume, both to increase attractiveness and to repel biting insects. One aromatic plant, Hosnum suave, is eaten by hunters to improve focus during early morning hunts and also to disguise their body odor as the aromatic oils exude through their pores ("that's all the animal will smell", I was told). But there are a few that are, like most aromatics, used as diaphoretics, carminatives, and nervines - as pleasant beverage teas.

Ocimum kilimandsharicum (Swa: kirumbasi): spicy and rich in eugenol and camphor, this plant reminds me a lot of O. sanctum (tulsi, holy basil). It doesn't have quite as intense of a bite. Traditionally, it is used for fevers and upper respiratory infections where I have no doubt it functions as a mucolytic, diaphoretic, and antiviral (it is also rich in rosmarinic acid). I mostly recommended it as a tea, refreshing and carminative after meals, and also as a morning beverage for those who didn't want chai or coffee. It's stimulating and enlivening.


Lippia kituiensis (Maa: ol'sinoni): an indigenous species used by the Maasai for its carminative and diaphoretic effects, it is also called simply "wild tea", because its leaves make a delightful, airy, somewhat citrusy infusion that is excellent in the early evening after a day's work. I consider it a gentle local nervine, similar to lemon balm in its effects though less dry. There is ongoing research looking at its potential antimalarial activity.


There are many other interesting plants. Solanaceae: I harvested and dried Datura stramonium leaves, but was unable to convince an asthma patient that steeping them in Konyagi (some kind of distilled Tanzanian spirit that may start with fermented ginger root) was actually going to yield anything medicinal. Withania somnifera grows wild (I did point its root out to a gentleman who was interested in greater sexual vigor, translating the Ayurvedic name "ashwagandha" as best I could). Solanum incanum, the "Sodom's apple", is everywhere and used for everything from scrubbing pots (its gritty leaves) to dressing wounds (the fresh fruit juice), though I never felt drawn to using it. Lamiaceae: wild patchouli was an awesome discovery. Rosaceae: so many different kinds of wild hybiscus, red flowering, yellow flowering, delicate white flowering. Asteraceae: the important Artemisia annua and some of its cousins grow wild, a treasure against malaria. Very few if any plants are truly dangerous, if you're careful about where you step and avoid the thorns. Euphorbia candelabra, which drips a caustic white latex, may be an exception: it blisters the skin and causes temporary blindness.

In the end, I can only repeat what I've said before: plants are communion. If you get to know them, if you allow them to become a part of you by eating them, drinking their infusions, merging their tissue with yours like usnea in a wound, you become part of the land you're in. If you want to know a place, walk outside. Hold people's hands. Eat what grows. You'll never be the same.

So I leave you with one last plant.
Commelina benghalensis (Maa: engaiteteyai): this is a simple and common spiderwort, and grows in shady places. I'd find it covered in dew on my way back home, in the early morning. The Maasai ol'oiboni, or shaman-healer, uses it as a way to bless and protect those who have come seeking health. Dipping the fresh plant fronds in raw milk, he sprinkles the petitioner with the magical infusion, releasing negative influences and promoting wellness and growth. May your life be blessed. May no thorns find your feet. And may you have joy in simple things, wealth in those you love.

Numen: The Healing Power of Plants

Let's face it, herbalists are lucky. We get to interact with plants and people in a very special way, one that emphasizes an age-old evolutionary connection between the two. This was recently brought home to me, yet again, sitting in circle with a group of herbalists, on a warm October day, after harvesting a bunch of excellent roots. We spent time giving thanks to the land, to the plants, and to the gatherers' hands. We spent time just participating in a moment of deep animal-vegetable relationship, one which humans must have experienced over and over again in the course of our long journey.
In this timeless moment, we tapped into something more than the botanist, with her rich knowledge of the vegetable kingdom, or the physician, with his clear insight into the human body and pharmacy, can routinely experience. Something born of the fact that the roots we pulled, painstakingly, from the soil can help people feel better - and that people, plants, and ecology can all thrive when they actually interact. It's more than observation, it's more than knowledge. It's something akin to the essence of life itself. The ancients called this essence "numen", or spirit-power, life-force. It isn't something that "is", it's something that "does": the counterbalance to entropy, the destroyer-force. It organizes, creates, loves, heals.



The excellent film by Ann Armbrecht and Terence Youk elegantly brings this life-affirming force into view. Through the words of those whose journey is devoted to plants, healing, and ecological connection, the timeless life-power humans have thrived on becomes clear. For me, it is a celebration! Experiencing the images and words Ann and Terry have woven together reinforces the feelings of connection all herbalists have known. But perhaps the greatest gift that they offer is to those who haven't ever felt this life-power for themselves. It is those who haven't tasted the call of springtime roots and greens, who haven't heard the words of mugwort on a full moon night, who have only a vague idea of how individual and ecological health might be connected, that really need to grok this film.
Which is why I'm really excited and grateful that Numen: The Healing Power of Plants is available for free viewing, for ten days starting on October 20th, to everyone everywhere. It is an opportunity for herbalists to celebrate, and be filled and renewed by, the joy of being plant people. But crucially, it is a chance for us to bring nature-based, herbal life-power into the lives of those who haven't really experienced it yet. It is a chance for our families, and our extended communities, to really "get" why we love this art so much, why we have chosen this path. I hope you share this with those you love. Who knows what will follow.

Nike! An equinox exploration on psychedelics, running, and victory

In the story of the battle of Marathon it's rumored that, after running back to Athens following his people's brutal battle with the Persians, Pheidippides uttered a single word - nike!, which means victory - before collapsing dead from exhaustion. He most likely meant to convey news of victory in battle, but he may have meant it for himself, too: despite his unfortunate end, there must have been a moment of deep joy and satisfaction once he actually made it home.



So the outcome, I'm learning, may mean less than the struggle: experiencing challenge, whatever that means to you, is more life-giving than actually surviving, coming in first, or whatever external measure of success you may choose. When performed repeatedly, the process makes us "better", more creative, and more confident. Some say adversity builds character, but I'd say that it's moving through the adversity that really makes us strong.

At Johns Hopkins University, in the medical research department, they seem to have found pharmacological agents that can approximate these effects. When people consume them, their spirits become younger, their thoughts more flexible and tolerant, their minds more creative. In other research, clinicians are discovering that the profound retreat, fear, and rigidity that accompanies post-traumatic stress can be healed by similar substances. It turns out that these are deep, shamanic medicines that humans have used to "tone the spirit" for a very long time: mushrooms rich in the alkaloid psylocibin are gaining more and more interest as tools for psychiatric disease. Somewhere out in interstellar space Timothy Leary's disembodied energy construct is chuckling.

Psylocibin and other "psychedelic" substances are interesting in their effects. Most of them have a certain degree of discomfort that accompanies their use. Some, like salvinorin-A (from Salvia divinorum) are downright scary at high medicinal doses. If you've ever tried these plants or fungi, you may have noticed that there is a period of "ramping up" of the effects, a "peak" during which the effects are most intense, and a long "tapering off", which can last hours. During the peak, people can feel confusion and disorientation, or even fear, as pretty dramatic changes sweep over their bodies, sensory systems, and mind. I've often seen folks attempt to escape the drug's effect, which is unfortunately impossible, and get stuck in spirals of self-doubt, paranoia, and isolation - the classic "bad trip". But most of the time, we move through that tough part by letting go of fear, and then the hours that follow become a joyous celebration of "victory" in the battle with the darker side of the psyche.




Perhaps it is this struggle and release that makes psychedelics such good medicine: they present us with a challenge and a choice, give us a chance to meet the tough part of life, and let us wind our way through. This isn't the false sense of invincibility engendered by stimulants, nor the care-free euphoria induced by depressants. It's an actual challenge, and the work is up to us, not the substance. Once we do the work, we become "better", more creative, more confident. We may not need to cling to our old mental framework for self-validation anymore - so our personality becomes more tolerant. Fear loses the ability to keep us locked in.

So for me, finding a way to experience the tough parts of life routinely, in a safe way, is an important spiritual practice. I use physical exertion to do this, and specifically running. I won't go in to why I think running is the best tool for this - that's really just my own opinion. Ultimately, it doesn't matter how you get there, be it through running, other physical activity, meditative practice, fasting, your job, or maybe just your life's circumstance (the fact that I have to actually work at finding adversity in life is a reflection of my societal priviledge). So if you're a runner, what follow are some of my thoughts on training, progress, and balance. If you find your challenge elsewhere, take them as a metaphor during these days around the equinox, when the days rush fast to dark, and the wind blows leaves around.

We don't train for speed or distance - those are just tools. We train to keep going through the tough bits.

We don't train for speed or distance - those are just tools. We train to keep going through the tough bits. Speed and distance are ways to get us there. How do you know that you're experiencing difficulty in training? Well, it just feels difficult! But beyond the subjective feeling, there is a semi-objective way of quantifying your level of physical exertion: the ratio of strides per breathing cycle.

A breathing cycle is inbreath-outbreath. It's interesting to note that this cycle tends to settle into a regular rhythm with strides: during a light jog, you might get three strides in for each in-breath, and three more during the out-breath, for a total of six strides per cycle. Five strides per cycle is still pretty relaxed, but by the time you're at four strides per cycle, you are certainly working a little harder. I aim for this target in my workouts: the first quarter should be at four strides per cycle, the second and third quarter at three strides per cycle, and by the time you're at the last quarter, you should be experiencing some two-strides-per-cycle stints fairly frequently. Two strides per cycle is tough. It's hard to sustain. Try to sustain it.

Since the level of oxygenation required is a direct reflection of your fitness, there's no "pace" that correlates to two strides per cycle. It depends how fast you're going, how far you've gone, and how fit you are. You can get there quick with speed. You can get there slow with distance. But I've often thought, breathing in-out-in-out with every step, how the feeling I'm experiencing is the same feeling all humans have had at this level of exertion. It's universally relate-able. We may be going at different paces, but it's tough - and if we can push through it, we feel amazing! It's an altered state few even get to touch, let alone indulge.

Speed is the tool of fire - it's short, but intense. There are a couple of ways to experience difficulty using speed: you can go at a tough pace for a medium distance, or you can go really fast for a short stint, take a little break, and repeat (a practice known as "intervals"). As usual, start with a pace that puts you into four strides per cycle. If you're not moving naturally into a three-strides ventilation cycle by the 1/4 mark, you need to speed up. See how this can work for any distance? If you want to go for two miles, you should be switching to three strides by the half-mile mark. If you want to go for twenty miles, hold off until you reach the five mile mark.
Interestingly, when using speed as a tool, your heart rate is generally higher. Herbs that support this training are often hot and fiery themselves: ginger, cayenne, even turmeric. They improve circulation and maximize oxygenation. The injuries that result from fire-training are injuries to the soft, connective tissue of the body: ligaments and tendons. Herbs that support these are cooling and often demulcent: solomon's seal, comfrey, horse chestnut. Too much yang injures the yin.

Distance is the tool of water. It's long and slow, but grinding - eroding at you like waves on a rocky coast. You get to the tough parts by exhausting all your energy - a different feeling from the muscular fatigue that accompanies speed, but an important one to dance with. What's "distance"? It varies from person to person. If you start getting into a two-strides-per-cycle pattern after two miles, even if you start out nice and easy, then two miles is "distance" for you. But regardless, if you aren't into a three-strides pattern by the halfway mark, you need to pick up the pace.
When using distance as a tool, you need to feed your system with watery, nourishing herbs and foods: oats, even licorice. And the injuries that come from distance are often injuries to the vital fire: we need adaptogens like rhodiola, schisandra, eleuthero and cordyceps if we find that distance workouts leave us feeling achy, depleted, and listless the next day. Too much yin injures the yang.

Speed and distance are the fire and water, the light and dark, of training. Try for a little of both each week. But both are challenging. Though they reflect balance, we also need to balance difficult training with more restful, "easy" days. If you run three days a week, try for one speed day, one distance day, and one day where you stay at four strides per cycle or more for the whole run. This gives you a chance to warm up your body and then maybe do some gentle stretching or strength training afterwards. If you feel tired, haven't gotten enough sleep, or are a bit under the weather, consider modifying your workout: if you're going for speed, keep the same pace but go a shorter distance. If you're going for distance, keep the same mileage but go slower. Eat well. Take your herbs. Sleep deeply.

Finally, there's a seasonal cycle as well. Find the time of year when you like to go faster and farther. Find the time of year to focus on less vigorous exercise, too. If you listen to your body while ensuring regular, ongoing discomfort, then you will embody the spirit of the equinox: balanced, but rushing. Perfectly poised, but wildly flying apart. The repeated experience of challenge will make you stronger, and your mind and emotions will benefit, too. Victory!

Aromatic plants – cultivating the scented garden within.

It is legend that, some twenty-five hundred years ago, a ruler of  Babylon (or was it Niniveh?) commissioned a wondrous garden, terraced up from the flat plains between the rivers of the Fertile Crescent. Its levels were built of huge slabs of stone, elaborately carved and supported by high vaulted colonnades. Huge amounts of soil were transported to create hills and fields in this garden many, many feet above street level. Sundry species of trees, shrubs, flowers and herbs were brought in to plant its winding paths. Using giant corkscrew pumps, thousands of gallons of water were moved against gravity on a daily basis to keep the garden lush and green. The ancient historians named it one of the seven wonders of the world, and marveled at this oasis, high above the incessant bustle of the city, smoothed with endless marble and steeped in a deep, seductive fragrance from the constant bloom of aromatic plants. 

 It is also said that it was in fact the queen who, longing for her homeland in the rich, flowering hills of the north, had pleaded with her husband for a retreat that could remind her of her younger days, of her family, and of what brought her joy. Watching her languish in the hot, humid, noisy city at the heart of his kindgom, he met her request in grand style - and her Hanging Gardens have been the stuff of myth ever since. But while some may wonder at the choice of such a garden to appease the restless spirit, it makes perfect sense to me: a retreat of roses and jasmine, lavender and linden is the perfect prescription not only for bringing a quiet respite in the middle of a hectic life, but also for re-inspiring and re-awakening the joy and creativity of childhood. Furthermore, the fact that it was literally floating above the day-to-day activity of the city serves as a fitting metaphor for the scented garden itself: a time apart, uplifted, serene.

Think of the last time you received a bouquet of flowers, or brushed past a patch of mint in a field, or simply stood in the deep part of a forest and smelled, just smelled, the earth, the spruce, the moss. Chances are you experienced a moment where you lost track of your responsibilities, your desires, your plans and just existed in the fragrance. If even for a second, you tapped into a very primeval state of being: it is childlike, flowing, and free. In such a state, it is difficult to be judgemental, anxious, rigid, sad, or angry - and this may be why we so often give gifts of scented flowers when we want to nurture an atmosphere of love, understanding, and joy. 

 This fact may also underlie the nearly universal practice of burning scented plants, resins, and oils to alter the "energy" of a room or space: it clears the mind, sets the stage for creative, spiritual work, and attunes us to the present moment. Cultural rituals have harnessed the power aromatic plants hold over us and have embedded their use into the peak times of our lives: at birth and death; during marriage celebrations; as a cornerstone of purification ceremonies; during the dark, wintry months when the light is low; as part of meditative practice. Perfumery and aromatherapy have long recognized the power scent has on the human spirit - even real estate marketing suggests that a home, when appropriately scented, may put prospective buyers in a relaxed, comfortable mindset. In the ancient world, a thousand years before the Hanging Gardens were built, priests in the old stone temples along the Nile were mixing kyphi, the sweet and spicy incense sacred to the pharaos. 

 But the Egyptian ceremonies didn't only involve smoke and scent. Often, the priests leading the rituals would also ingest a good amount of kyphi, powdered and dissolved in wine, as a sort of primitive herbal extract. Here the truest power of scented herbs is revealed: when they are ingested, their action is magnified and lasts much longer. The smell may awaken us, bring us into the present moment, and help us flow through change more gracefully: but once the aromatic plants enter our bodies, their volatile constituents first relax our bellies, then disslove into our bloodstream and reach all of our internal organs. If there is underactivity in an organ or tissue, fragrant plants can "wake it up" (think of ginger, or peppermint). Conversely, if a tissue is overly tense, aromatic herbs "loosen the knot" (like fennel seeds after a huge meal, or lavender oil during a massage). Net result: a more balanced state of internal tension. Since forever, herbalists have called many of these plants “nervines”, loved the scented brews they yield, and prized them as stress-tamers, tonics for the nerves. 

 More modern research gives us two interesting pieces of information to help understand how this works: first, the chemicals in highly scented plants (specifically, their volatile oils) have the ability to alter the way smooth muscle contracts, depending on its current state of tension. Smooth muscle is found in the lining of all our hollow organs - lungs, gut, bladder, and uterus - as well as in the heart and blood vessels. Plants that affect smooth muscle can thereby affect how we perceive our internal state - and anyone who has experienced a spasming, crampy belly knows what a dramatic impact this can have. It is fascinating to note, however, that the place in the brain tasked with assessing this "internal state" is exactly the same place most affected by the perception of smell itself! The limbic system, a complex of brain structures known for its processing of emotion and its ability to guide "executive function" (our ability to flow through tasks efficiently and productively), is where all of this information is integrated. Aromatic plants thus have a dual effect: their smell immediately awakens and engages the limbic system, and if consumed, their chemistry helps adjust internal tension, removing the distractions that keep us from the present moment. When they are ingested, clinical research always shows the same results: more balanced mood, more restorative sleep, better attention, and an ability to move through challenging tasks more smoothly (and joyfully).

If you are seeking respite from the demands of the modern world and the bustle of the city, the scented garden and incense-filled temple may well be the answer. But fragrant herbs are the way to take your garden with you, to suffumigate your own internal temple. There are so many options available to help with the milder cases of restless or despondent spirit: sedatives for anxiety and insomnia, stimulants for apathy and sluggishness, narcotics to escape, concentrated extracts of botanicals like kava or St. Johnswort, and designer drugs for depression and the mental malaise of today's life. Unlike all of these, aromatic herbs are not strongly mind-altering, are safe and non-habit-forming, and quite easy to grow and use! They are part of a very old toolkit available to humans, and many animals before us, to enter more fully into the flow of life. When led by scent, we follow a path through a garden where intuition and emotion, more than analysis and control, dominate the landscape. 

For now, happy Full Moon, happy First Harvest. Our gardens are in fullest bloom. But since I so often turn to these gifts during the darker months of the year, when night is deep and one can't often see the path to brighter days, I leave you with the words of Margared McKenny, recalling her own garden on a January dawn:

                "The snow still lies upon the ground,

                And yet I feel

                The shadow of the scent of flowers;

                Breathless the firs against the gray -

                So still the air

                That hung upon a bare rose spray

                Are drops of rain

                Left there by midnight showers -

                (.....)

                Black head atilt

                A chickadee

                Whistles the first love-notes of the year."

               

A brief and practical introduction to pulse and tongue assessment

Any assessment or diagnostic technique that seeks to make sense of what’s happening inside the human system is inherently pretty complex – be it a modern tool such as a CT scanner, or a traditional device such as the stethoscope. Interpretation is tricky, and the background knowledge required can often be intimidating. While using the tongue and pulse to get a glimpse inside the human body is not an exception, one can nevertheless glean really useful, actionable information with even a basic understanding of the technique. This basic understanding can become richer and deeper with ongoing practice. The complexity evidenced in traditional texts on the subject should not be a reason to keep you from experimenting!

Basics: Excess / deficient. Hot / cold. Dry / moist. The polarities!

            Pick two people and look at their faces. Feel their skin. Who is more red? Whose skin more dry? Who speaks more loudly and often? Who is more reserved and shy? The answers to these questions are clinically relevant, and it is in these basic categories that we will try to fit our observations of pulse and tongue. They have been universally recognized in traditional healing systems, from Chinese yin/yang theory to the Western humors.

The Pulse: Neuromuscular tension and tone

            When feeling the pulse, set your fingers on the radial artery. It can be found on the palm side of the wrist, right where the hand (thumb side) ends. You can often find a pair of strong tendons here; feel for the pulse in the little “trench” just above these.

            What we can learn from pulses: relative state of anxiety, tension, stress. Underactivity in the heart, vessels, and spirit (or, conversely, overactivity). 

            Herbs we can use to rebalance pulse: aromatic plants, and sometimes rooty, nourishing adaptogens. Archetypal plant for the pulse: Holy Basil (Tulsi – ocimum sanctum).

            Polarities to observe:

-         The pulse has a depth. It is right on the surface, somewhere in the middle, or deep down. This is determined by the amount of pressure required to find it. Surface pulse with no depth indicates “paper fire” (quick burnout, moody and changeable, hyper then crashing. Consider lavender, linden). Deep pulse that’s hard to find can mean depletion (hard to get going, tends to depression, fatigued. Consider ashwagandha, ginger, cayenne, green tea).

-         The pulse has a width. Think of the artery as a river, ideally flowing through the middle channel of depth. If it’s full and noticeable at all depths, it might be called “flooding” (excess function, high blood pressure, over-intensity. Consider motherwort, rose). If it’s thin and feels like a string, it might be called “tight” (high tension, excess sympathetic discharge. Consider motherwort again, lemon balm, scullcap). If it’s just thin, it might be a sign of deficiency and we would turn to the nourishing herbs (ashwagandha, oat, licorice, American ginseng).

-         The pulse has a speed. This is a pretty classic assessment: greater physical activity usually raises the pulse rate. When sitting, speedy pulses usually indicate anxiety or poor physical conditioning. Aromatic plants and exercise are called for. In extreme situations (requiring hospitalization: shock, toxicity, severe dehydration) you can see rapid, thin pulses too – but hopefully you won’t ever run in to these as they are emergency situations.

-         The pulse should respond to breath. Feeling the pulse, have the person take a deep, full breath slowly. The pulse should quicken on inhale, and slow down noticeably on exhale. Failure to do so indicates poor heart rate variability: if the pulse has low depth, feels thin or absent, consider nourishing and building here (ashwagandha, oat, licorice, American ginseng). If the pulse is of surface depth, flooding, or tight consider aromatherapy, and any aromatic plants (chamomile, linden, lemon balm, scullcap, mint, rose, yarrow).

-         The pulse should come back well after being completely blocked. Occlude the artery by pressing hard, then feel for the return of blood. Slow return to the “normal” state (taking more than 1 second) may indicate blood stagnation (purple color, cold, areas of chronic pain. Consider yarrow, elderflower, Salvia milthiorrhiza)

Basically, aromatic nervines make great teas and are often just the ticket for an imbalance in the pulse. This is because the radial pulse reflects the degree of sympathetic, or fight-flight, tone really well, and these plants are supremely useful for those who have either excessive or deficient tension in their systems. They modulate how we respond to change in the world within and without – and if we’re not doing a great job of it, the pulse tells us. If the pulse truly seems weak, sunken, and/or thin, you might want to add nourishing adaptogens as well to provide a literal foundation for stress hormone production, not just a way to balance response.

The Tongue: state of the mucous membranes

            When looking at the tongue, ask the person to really open wide and stick their tongue out completely. Then, tell them to relax it (often the “sticking out” causes the tongue to get really tight and weirdly-shaped).

            What we can learn from the tongue: relative state of activity and moisture of the membranes that line the GI tract, but also the respiratory passages by reflex. Degree of inflammation. Degree of swelling / moisture.

            Herbs we can use to rebalance the tongue: bitter and astringent plants. Archetypal plant for the tongue: Agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria).

            Polarities to observe:

-         The tongue has a body color. This is the general hue of the tongue itself, not its coating, and indicates the degree of blood flow and activity in the mucous membranes. Pale tongue can indicate anemia, poor nutrition (consider yellowdock, rehmannia, protein). Red tongue indicates inflammation and irritation (consider dandelion and also slippery elm or meadowsweet depending on dry vs moist below). Purple: blood stagnation (see above).

-         The tongue has a coat. It should be whitish/gray, and relatively thin. Absent coat calls for soothing, especially with a red body (consider slippery elm, licorice, flax seed meal). Thick coat calls for bitters, especially if the coat has any signs of yellow in it – though watch for coffee stains! (consider dandelion, yellowdock, burdock)

-         The tongue has a shape, largely determined by its moisture (though the coat can tell us about moisture, too). Wider, thicker, glistening tongues indicate a swollen, boggy gastric mucous membrane. Often there will even be the scallops of tooth marks on the side (consider specific bitters such as goldenseal or barberry, but also meadowsweet, cleavers). Thin, wrinkly tongues indicate an atrophied, dry gastric mucous membrane (consider dietary oils such as sesame, bitters, and potentially soothers such as slippery elm especially with redness).

Basically, bitters are often a great choice for any tongue signs, except maybe in cases where the tongue is really pale and wet and there are symptoms of looseness in the bowel. This is because bitter herbs stimulate and awaken digestive function, and tone the mucous membranes in the process. They help us deal well with what comes to us from the world outside (most often food) by making sure that the interface (the mucous membrane) is functioning well. The tongue is a convenient piece of mucous membrane we can always observe!

Conclusion

            None of the diagnostic signs are infallible, of course – and should always be read in the context of symptoms and case presentation. The assessment of pulse and tongue can precede the oral interview, and guide it: for instance, feeling a tight and rising pulse with poor response to breath, you might want to ask about tension, anxiety, and a difficult response to life’s changes and stresses. Or noticing a dry and red tongue, you might ask about heartburn and/or constipation. Conversely, the assessment can come at the end of the oral interview, and be used to corroborate information obtained through conversation. Finally, the maxim: treat the person, not the tongue (or pulse)!

Joyful herbs for the darker days

All of us feel the loss of daylight to a certain extent. For some, it may be occasional sluggishness, less motivation to get outside and exercise, or less of a desire to spend time with friends and family. Others may feel even deeper withdrawal, or experience less control over anxiety and the sometimes overwhelming responsibilities of daily life. To a certain extent, the culture has tried to address this by consistently packing in times of remembrance, celebration, and family during the darkest months of the year – but by the time it’s all over (or even during the often stressful holidays), there are still many months of darker days left and it is usually at this time that folks express the desire for more fun, more joy, more light.

Aside from creating internal tension by working the same schedule regardless of season every single week of the year, darkness literally affects our mood, in a pattern that has been fairly well characterized and is known as seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. This pattern can carry a significant depression along with it, though most often it is a period of withdrawal, sadness, and perhaps increased anxiety whose chief feature is that it occurs as the daylight wanes.

So what can be done? Naturally, being outside is extremely important. Feeling sunlight directly on the skin, for even 30 minutes a day, can have substantial benefits! Some choose to install and operate full-spectrum lighting in their homes. As an extension of this, folks also supplement with between 1,000 and 4,000 IUs of vitamin D daily. This important nutrient is essential for those who suffer from a seasonal sadness pattern. But there are some specific medicinal plants that can reinforce these sun-seeking impulses, while at the same time buffering the symptoms of sluggishness, sadness, anxiety and withdrawal. All of this put together helps us not only feel better during the winter months, but also perform better at work, play, and family gatherings.

 

Pulling out of the “hole”: stronger botanicals for SAD

 

St. Johnswort (Hypericum perforatum) has a well-deserved reputation as a good herb for mild to moderate depression, and clinical research has confirmed its effectiveness for this condition. SAD, usually a moderate case, responds extremely well to this plant, which not coincidentally has a long history of solar mythology tied to it. Though also useful for anxious conditions, it is better suited to the depressive side of the winter blues, where it warms, enlivens, and improves circulation.

Consider between ½ tsp and 1 tsp (3-5ml) of a good, fresh tincture prepared from the whole buds and flowering tops. This extract can be taken up to 5 times a day – though it should never be consumed alongside conventional medication without checking with an herbalist first.

Mimosa (Albizia julibrissin) is perhaps a bit less well-known, but is a stellar and powerful plant for supporting darker, sadder moods characterized by apathy and withdrawal. It comes from the flower and bark of a medium-sized tree, and has an astringent and somewhat acrid flavor. The tincture is usually taken at a dose of 30 drops all the way up to 1 tsp (1-5ml) twice a day.

Rhodiola (R. rosea) is an anti-stress, energy-enhancing tonic. As such, it lessens the pressures our psyches may feel when we are also sluggish or anxious from the changes in daylight. And of all the “stronger” herbs, it has the greatest affinity for the overwhelmed and frazzled type, where it also serves the purpose of enhancing and evening out energy throughout the day. ½ tsp once, or sometimes twice, a day usually suffices to add spark back into a tired life – and sometimes enough spark to start back in to an exercise program, a snowshoe adventure, or that wintertime project you were putting off…

Aromatic plants: a daily habit to keep us happy, focused, and “in the flow”

            Plants with strong smells, rich in volatile essential oils, have been used throughout history as ways to facilitate ceremony, mark momentous (large or small) events, reduce the effects of stress on the human system, and spark creative focus. They accomplish this by quite literally balancing the level of internal tension we experience: tension in our internal organs, along our nerves, in our skeletal muscle. Though probably best to consume them daily, they make a more frequent appearance in my life from about mid-September to mid-March – the darker half of the year. All of the plants below can be combined together, are very safe to use alone or in concert with conventional medication, and are perhaps somewhat interchangeable. Find a few that you like, and try to start consuming them regularly before mood becomes an issue: it’s always easier to prevent a downslide than it is to climb back out of a dark hole.

Holy Basil (Ocimum sanctum, aka Tulsi) reduces inflammation in the body, buffers the effects of stress, calms anxiety and gladdens the heart – all while tasting delicious as a simple cup of tea! Various teabags prepared with Tulsi are available today, and almost all are delicious, safe, and effective when used habitually (2-3 cups of tea a day). The tincture too can help, when at least ½ tsp is taken twice a day, perhaps alongside other herbs.

Frankincense (Boswellia species) is a resin from an east African / Arabian tree. It is traditionally burned as incense, but its internal use is also storied and has been receiving a lot of attention over the last decade.  It seems very useful at controlling inflammation, especially in nervous system and cardiovascular tissue, but has important mood-balancing effects as well. It is a rich and sensuous ally for the darker days. Typically ¼ tsp to ½ tsp of the “tears” (amber-like resin chunks) are eaten daily.

Lemon Balm (Melissa officinalis) has a delightful scent that is enlivening and makes for a happy heart. It brews a delicious tea, and its aromatic constituents are antidepressant and very, very useful in anxiety. Clinical research shows that consuming a strong cup of Lemon Balm tea (2TBS of leaf per cup) or its extract (1tsp per dose) lessens anxiety and uplifts the frazzled, overwhelmed person for up to six hours! That said, I usually recommend at least 3 cups or doses a day.

Rose (various Rosa species, the stronger scented the better) holds a sad heart and nourishes it. In clinic, its specific use centers around trauma, physical or emotional, and the withdrawal and closed-heartedness that can result. But it is also quite applicable in any context where sadness is overwhelming the ability to enjoy and engage life. Typically not used alone, Rose makes an amazing addition to tea blends and extract formulas for sadness and apathy. Use about 1tsp of petals per cup of tea, or 30-60 drops of tincture. If you can find a “rose elixir” (Avena Botanicals makes an amazing one), 5-50 drops can be used as needed to mend a broken heart.

Pine (Pinus species, often P. alba or white pine), along with spruce and fir, is an evergreen that has always been associated with the darker winter months. It’s for reasons that are more than celebratory that its fronds are brought indoors to decorate the home when the light is waning: the smell is uplifting, antidepressant, and energizing. It is also a great source of vitamin C and very good for the lungs. I’ve only ever used a tea of the fresh needles, regardless of species: about 1TBS of chopped needles steeped in a cup of hot water, taken 2-3 times a day.

Finally, Oats (Avena sativa) is the most nourishing of the bunch. It may be needed for folks who have experienced a SAD pattern for years, or who are perhaps getting worse and worse with every dark season’s passing. It also makes a good tonic for those used to burning the candle at both ends – all in all, not the strongest and immediately relieving anxiety and depression, but the secret ingredient for building resistance to stress and weathering the lack of sunlight with greater grace. Typically a tea is made with 2TBS of unripe, dried oat seedheads per cup of hot water – and 3-4 cups are consumed every day.

There is extensive research correlating the use of highly scented plants (think lavender, for example, or peppermint) to less tension, stress, anxiety and sadness. People have consumed these plants in a range of ways: as teas and extracts, but also as aromatherapy essential oil blends, in room diffusers, as incense, or in bath sachets. Other plants, such as white sage, pine, and citrus fruits, are brought into the home for decoration (and their noticeable medicinal effects). One way or another, it does us all a lot of good to share our space and lives with these sweet-smelling herbs: and it may be that the rise in patterns such as SAD in our culture parallels the loss of these allies in our environment. Many of the scented candles used for the holidays are artificially aromatic nowadays, their medicinal effects unclear (and perhaps even detrimental, as they might lead to hypersensitivity symptoms). So consider real plants, wreaths of evergreen fronds, and true potpourri and mulling spices as part of your seasonal rituals: there are good reasons for these customs, and a happy heart may be the most important!

Herbs for Athletes

Lots of folks are getting back outside and becoming more active as Spring (finally!) moves forward. When we stop to consider how much our physical frame and physiological systems endure for even a moderate walk around town (coordination, tendon stretching, impact buffering, blood sugar changes, and more), it’s remarkable that human beings perform so well when engaged in physical activity! Good pre- and post-workout nutrition is crucial, as quality fuels provide a lot more than just energy to our bodies, but beyond eating well, herbal support can address three key areas that are important for athletic types and for anyone who is even moderately active: preventing problems, enhancing stamina and endurance, and treating any injuries that might sideline us. Usually herbs are used internally for the first two areas of focus, and in treating injuries external and internal therapies can play a role.

Prevention: strong blood, good circulation, supple connective tissue.

The areas that tend to get the most abuse in many athletic disciplines (even walking) are the joints, ligaments that surround them, and the tendons that attach muscle to bone and joints. Muscles themselves can also experience strains and tears, but these usually heal more quickly than those in joints or connective tissue.

Stretching and listening to your body are, obviously, crucial. Beyond this there are some key preventive strategies where herbs can really help.

· First, it is important to build and maintain “strong blood”. This really means that the blood should have excellent oxygen-carrying capacity and plenty of red blood cells and hemoglobin, so that muscle tissue receives all the oxygen it requires for healthy aerobic activity. When starved and forced to work anaerobically (without oxygen) for any length of time, muscles are more susceptible to injury. Additionally, “strong blood” usually includes the idea of “clean blood”, a somewhat mysterious herbal concept, which usually means that there are fewer reactive free radicals present in the bloodstream. The blood itself is therefore less pro-inflammatory. Inflammation is, of course, at the root of much joint pain, chronic fascia, tendon, and ligament pain, and more.

Astragalus builds the oxygen-carrying capacity of the blood. It also is a preventive agent for common viral infections, often the bane of athletes. You can simmer a few tablespoons of the root with vegetables and/or bones when making a soup stock, or take about 500-1,000mg twice a day in capsule form.

Ginkgo is not that useful to strengthen blood, unless you’re moving to higher altidude (over 5,000 ft or more) and you aren’t used to the lower levels of oxygen one finds up there. 240mg daily of the standardized extract for 3-5 days prevents altitude sickness and speeds the blood’s adaptation to the new environment.

Curcumin form Turmeric has a host of beneficial functions in the body, but for athletes one of its most important is the ability to reduce inflammation overall by acting as an antioxidant and liver balancer. It is used for chronic joint pain and injury, but is an excellent preventive agent as well. To this end, we usually use about 1,000mg of curcumin daily, taken with a little black pepper in the middle of a meal.

Fish oil and other omega-3 fatty acid sources (lots of greens, flax seed for example) are another class of nutrients essential for keeping overall inflammatory burden in check. We suggest 2g daily for maintenance, and up to 4-6g daily during peak, intensive training.

One final nutrient is related to the side effect of a commonly prescribed class of medication. Statin drugs (lipitor, zocor, et. al.) are used to treat high cholesterol, but have the unfortunate side effect of depleting Co-Q10 from cells. I recommend this supplement for athletes who are taking statin drugs and notice an increase in fatigue.

· Blood with a good capacity to carry oxygen and control the production of inflammatory chemicals is a great start, but beyond this we also need to ensure adequate circulation. This is for the muscles again, but even more crucial for tendons and ligaments where circulation is notoriously poor to begin with.

Gotu Kola is a water-loving ground cover plant that grows quite well as an annual in Vermont. It is a tonic for connective tissue and also improves circulation and oxygenation of all organs of the body. The daily dose is 3-5 fresh leaves, or about that many droppers full of a liquid extract (tincture). 3 capsules a day is ok if nothing else can be found.

Hawthorn berries, Blueberries, and other colorful berry fruits are fantastic sources of bioflavonoids which improve circulation, reduce inflammation, and protect the heart and capillaries so they can continue to perform as efficiently as possible. Aim for ¼ to ½ cup a day of mixed berries, fresh or (even better) frozen. Jam preparations are also acceptable.

Caffeine should be used with caution. While a little seems to boost performance somewhat, it can also restrict circulation to the heart and muscles when overconsumed, leading to premature fatigue. Play it by ear – I typically find that 1-2 cups of coffee is fine. Black tea has less caffeine and way more circulatory-enhancing and anti-inflammatory antioxidants, too.

Performance: herbs that improve speed and endurance and enhance recovery

Most athletes are interested in ways, beyond training, that they can support themselves as they push the body further in distance, speed, intensity, or all of the above. Usually, one reaches a limit where the physiology’s ability to absorb more training and improve hits a plateau, and continued exertion can lead to burnout, injury, or both. Generally speaking, the “adaptogenic” herbs can push that limit back, allowing for more exertion, improvement, and therefore greater performance. Here are three excellent and effective adaptogens to help us bounce back faster from hard training and also improve performance in the short term.

Rhodiola rosea is the root of an Arctic plant traditionally used to support stress and counteract fatigue. Exercise is perhaps the “purest” embodiment of physical stress on the system, and Rhodiola can help both in the short term (before a race, e.g.) and long term by pushing back the threshold of fatigue and getting us quickly ready for the next workout. Try a liquid extract, using about ½ teaspoon once or twice a day during training, or ½ to 1 teaspoon before a challenging workout or race.

Eleuthero (a.k.a. Siberian Ginseng) is a classic athlete’s tonic. It was first researched in Russia to enhance the stamina of its soldiers and cosmonauts, but quickly found its way into the athletic programs as well because it is effective. 2-3g of the root are consumed daily.

Cordyceps is actually a mushroom, not an herb, and there is some conflicting research showing that it may increase performance and endurance when taken regularly. Some of the recent clinical evidence did not show much effect; my feeling is that it helps individuals who might be already in a depleted state (i.e. coming back from an injury, or following a taxing race). Typically between 500 and 1000mg are consumed daily.

Treating common injuries: anti-inflammatory herbs and connective tissue repair

In working with active people, it seems that the issues that come up over and over again either involve connective tissue (sprains, tendonitis, fasciitis) or joints and articulations (arthritis, bone spurs). The preventive health strategies discussed above are important, of course, as is a concerted program of rest and physical therapy to rehabilitate the injury. Beyond this, we have a lot of great herbs to use both topically (on the site of pain) and internally that are a great alternative to ibuprofen.

Arnica is used topically as an oil or gel, and internally as a homeopathic remedy (usually the latter is at a 30C potency). It reduces inflammation, prevents bruising, and just greatly speeds the recovery process for almost any injury, but especially sprains (twisted ankle, e.g.) and trauma (bashes, falls, etc). For more nagging, chronic injuries such as tendonitis, runner’s knee, IT band syndrome, fasciitis and more, Arnica is less useful but can still be helpful, especially if combined with Horsechestnut (see below).

Ginger makes an excellent compress for sore muscles or for specific areas of inflammation around a joint or tendon. Brew a strong tea by steeping 1 TBS of powder in a cup of hot water for 5 minutes, then soak a cloth with the tea and apply to the affected area a few times a day.

Wintergreen essential oil is another excellent liniment, more for arthritic and other chronic joint complaints. It’s a bit too strong to use “neat”, or undiluted, so use about 10-15 drops of oil in 1 ounce of a carrier oil such as olive or grapeseed oil. It has a very cooling quality, and works well in alternation with the ginger compress.

Horsechestnut is a remedy often used internally for varicose veins and chronic inflammation throughout the body. In Europe, it is also used topically for any type of connective tissue injury or chronic inflammation – sprains, and tendon/ligament/fascia injuries. The liquid extract is a great way to use this plant both ways: 45 drops twice a day internally, and rubbed directly onto the affected area topically twice a day. It reduces not only inflammation but also the swelling associated with it.

Final note: often many of these herbs are employed at the same time, depending on the situation at hand. For instance, a combination liquid formula made with Hawthorn, Gotu Kola, and Horsechestnut could be used to speed recovery from a twisted knee and prevent recurrence at the same time. Additionally, the concomitant use of internal and external herbs along with physical therapy that strengthens the muscles and connective tissues around the injured area yields the best results.