Recently, scientists uncovered the remains of a Neanderthal
tribe that lived in the area now known as Spain, some 50,000 years ago. Analyzing residue on their teeth, the researchers discovered traces of powerful
chemicals: triterpenes and lactones from chamomile and yarrow were still
detectable, and indicated that these early hominids consumed these plants,
which have little or no caloric value. It’s an intriguing finding: have we been
harnessing the power of herbs for that long?
In fact, we may have been herbalists well before we were
human – from an evolutionary perspective, at least. Primates are the most
enthusiastic, but many other species (from bees to elephants) employ plants
just as the Neanderthals seem to have done: small quantities of wild botanicals
that have little caloric value are used, deliberately and effectively, to
maintain health.
While lacking an understanding of physiology and biochemistry, animals (and
early humans) still realize that renewing a connection to the wilder side of
the dinner plate is a daily necessity.
Christina Warriner studies archaeological evidence to piece
together a picture of what how our oldest ancestors nourished themselves. She has come to three basic conclusions:
first, ancient diets were incredibly diverse. They were different from region
to region, from season to season, and featured a vast amount of different
plants as well as some meat and animal fat. Second, all those plants came in
small, frequent doses, and included herbs that were relatively “calorie-poor”
(as we saw in the Neanderthals). Finally, the plants our ancestors consumed
still had large amounts of phytochemicals – plant constituents with biochemical
action and that have been largely bred out of modern vegetables. The plants we
used to eat had strong, often bitter flavors, were hard to find in quantity,
and were – to put it simply – powerful.
What happened? Over all these years, we’ve drifted away from
these plants. The diversity of our diet is at an all-time low, starring only
corn, wheat and soy (along with traces of other, highly hybridized, veggies).
We eat lots and lots of these plants, and almost none of the “calorie-poor”
herbs that have been animals’ companions for millions of years. The chemical
potency of our dietary plants is all but gone, bred out because of its
unpalatable flavor. Many have been telling us that the “Western” diet is
killing us slowly, and lies at the root of the modern epidemics of mental and
spiritual distress, digestive disease, cardiovascular illness and cancer. They
warn us to turn our backs on the modern foods we’ve grown accustomed to – and
that our lives may depend on it.
If you’re into herbs, you may have a different take. It may be possible, and in fact preferable,
to restore diverse, wild, powerful botanical chemistry into our daily lives
and, by so doing, circumvent the risks of the “Western” diet. It may not be
that wheat, soy and corn are killers: it may just be that, without our old
allies, our bodies have forgotten how to work properly. They are out of
context. And wouldn’t it be great if, by bringing that context back, we could
enjoy a modern, urban life without the risks and diseases associated with it?
That is precisely what herbs can offer us: they are easy to grow, simple to
prepare, and deeply nourishing, enlivening, and restorative when consumed
habitually. They provide the context our physiology needs, while linking us
back to the wilder side of nature. This wilder side is calling us: it’s green,
open, sexy and powerful. With it, we are at our most vibrant.
So herbs are radically different from drugs: they are more
akin to physiologic building blocks, the vectors for cross-kingdom signaling, a
way for plants to guide us to our best potential. While some can definitely
treat disease and infection in the short term, herbs really shine at slowly
rebalancing us in our entirety, so that mental distress, spiritual malaise,
toxicity and inflammation melt away like snow in warm sunlight. The safe
medicinal herbs are often weedy, or at least ridiculously easy to grow, and
their preparation and administration are simple and worry-free. And think about
what happens when you start to see a dandelion as more than just a pest: could
it be an old friend? Could it have something in it that we lack, that used to
be as familiar as electricity is today? Strange things start to happen to our
ecological and cultural outlook when we begin to ponder these questions.
This is what I encourage you to do: find a wild plant, maybe
one with a historical record of medicinal activity, to be your ally this summer. Identify it with certainty, make sure it’s safe. Watch it grow, slowly
at first, then faster as it bursts into flower, sets seed, matures its root.
Taste it. Harvest it. Sit with it on sunny mornings and through rainy
afternoons. This medicine is very real, but it is also very different. If you
want to find the true power of an herb, you will have to approach it as a
friend, not as an alternative to a pill. In so doing, you won’t just discover
medicine. You will come home, too.
